CHAPTER XIII_The Soul of Golf

THE LITERATURE OF GOLF

It will be readily understood by those who have followed me that I

consider that golf has been badly served by those who have essayed to

teach it by books. The main, if not indeed the whole, cause of the

trouble is the manner in which writer after writer has allowed himself

to be influenced by the work of those who have preceded him. This is

neither amusing nor instructive. The essence of progress is research.

We cannot progress in anything by repeating parrot-like the fallacies

of those who have preceded us.

I want to make it particularly plain that this book aims at absolutely

dispelling the fog and mist, the obscurity and the falseness which now

clusters about the game of golf. One dear old chap was explaining to

me how he tries to drive. He said, "When I get to the top of the swing

I have so many things to remember that I get all of a dither and mess

it up hopelessly." Could anyone express it better?

About seventy-five per cent of the golfers who follow the usual

tuition are "all of a dither." The whole trouble is that they are

given too much to think of _during the stroke_. I am certain that the

secret of success in golf is to eliminate the necessity for thinking

_and theorising_ on the links. This, I contend, can be done by

_knowing_, not merely by _reading_, the contents of this book.

So strongly do I feel in this matter that I consider that every

beginner who desires to succeed at golf should know what is here set

out, while every misguided golfer who has been jumping from his right

leg to his left, and putting his left hand in command instead of his

right, should lose no time in getting the truth and so revolutionising

his game.

I have stated in my Preface that this book is a challenge. So, in

effect, it is. It stands for truth and practical golf, instead of the

nonsense which is generally published about one of the greatest and

simplest of games.

I must here refer to a book entitled _Practical Golf_, published by

Mr. Walter J. Travis, the Australian who perfected his golf in America

and won the Amateur Championship of England.

Mr. Travis' book is very interesting in many ways. He calls it

_Practical Golf_, and it ought to be, coming from him, but Mr. Travis

falls into nearly all the mistakes of those who have followed the

time-worn fetiches of the people who handed down to us "the traditions

of golf." I was much astonished at this, for Mr. Travis tells us

himself that he worked out his own salvation, at the same time as he

remarks that "as a general rule the average professional, while he may

be a good player, lacks the faculty of imparting proper information to

beginners."

This, unquestionably, is true, but one cannot expect too much theory

from the professional, who is not, generally speaking, a very well

educated man, but from a man in Mr. Travis' position one has a right

to expect a fairly good grip of fundamental principles. He says that

"All good players work practically on the same basic principles." This

is, of course, right. The trouble is that most good golfers, like Mr.

Travis, work on the same correct basic principles, but advertise to

their unfortunate readers and pupils those which are utterly opposed

to their practice.

Mr. Travis absolutely subscribes to the fundamental but common error

with regard to the distribution of weight. He says at page 30: "In the

upward swing it will be noticed that the body has been turned very

freely, with the natural transference of weight almost entirely to the

right foot." At page 7 he says: "The ease and rapidity with which the

weight of the body and arms is transferred from the left leg to the

right and back again, joined to wrist action--concerning which

reference will later be made--are largely, if not wholly, responsible

for long driving."

It is obvious from this that Mr. Travis thinks that one's weight ought

to be on one's right leg at the top of the swing. It is also obvious

that he thinks he throws his weight about from one leg to another when

he is playing. It is, notwithstanding this, certain that he tells us,

as does every man who writes a book about golf, that the head must be

immovable during the operation of driving. We must wait for Mr. Travis

to tell us how this conundrum can be solved, as none of the famous

golfers of the world have yet been able to do it. If the stance has

once been taken with the weight equally distributed between the legs,

it is impossible, if the head be kept still, as Mr. Travis and

everybody else says it should be, to get the weight on to the right

leg at the top of the swing, but it is not impossible to get it on to

the left leg, where it should be, and where, indeed, it goes quite

naturally.

In speaking about the palm grip Mr. Travis says: "This style is more

affected by cricketers and base ballers, but it is open to the

objection that it introduces a tendency to hit the ball with tautened

muscles, and discourages the proper follow-through."

Personally, I cannot see that there is any objection whatever to

hitting the ball with tautened muscles--in fact, it absolutely must be

done in that way, and in no other, or the result will be dire failure.

James Braid himself says that at the moment of impact the muscles are

in a state of supreme tension, and as a matter of practical golf there

can be no doubt whatever that this is so. Mr. Travis also comes into

line with the general body of golfing opinion with regard to the

fetich of the left. He says on page 14: "As a general rule the left

hand should grip somewhat more firmly than the right." I may say that

Vardon and Taylor do not agree with Mr. Travis, and the mere idea of

putting the left to exert a firmer hold on the shaft is a reversion to

primeval fables.

Mr. Travis tells us, speaking about the waggle: "Do not on any account

in this preliminary address _lift_ the club up. Lifting the club

pre-supposes stiffness and rigidity of muscles and the resultant

stroke cannot be thoroughly satisfactory."

It will be obvious that as the club is at the lowest portion of its

arc it is necessary to lift the club. This is done by an easy action

of the wrists, and the waggle, of course, then becomes a swing worked

almost entirely from the wrists, but it is absolutely essential to

lift the club for the ordinary waggle.

At page 19 Mr. Travis says: "When the top of the swing is reached,

without pausing, bring the arms and body around as swiftly as possible

and _swish_ the ball away." We see here that Mr. Travis is also an

adherent of the fetich of the sweep, but we must in his case call it

the fetich of the "swish." In golf it is now realised that the golf

drive is a hit of the very finest order.

Mr. Travis says at the same page "Do not seek to artificially raise

the left foot on the toe. Strive rather to keep it rooted--the natural

turn of the shoulders and body rotating to the right will bring it up

and around. Keep the right leg as stiff and as straight as possible.

And whatever you do, do not move the head." If one is going to pivot

on the left toe in any way whatever, it is fatal to the rhythm of the

swing to wait until the arms pull the left heel off the earth. The

left heel should leave the earth almost simultaneously with the club

leaving the ball. If this is not done it will be impossible to

maintain the rhythm of the swing. Mr. Travis shows himself in nearly

every case pivoted on the _point_ of his left toe at the top of the

swing. This is now universally admitted to be bad form, as one should

put the weight on the ball of the toe, and forward from that at the

side of the shoe.

It is, of course, possible to play the drive practically flat-footed,

in which case one's swing will naturally be much flatter than the

ordinary swing, but this is not generally done. For those who pivot on

the left toe, Mr. Travis' advice to wait for the arms to pull the heel

up is, I think, absolutely bad. His advice to keep the right leg stiff

and straight is quite good, and, of course, there can be no doubt of

the correctness of his advice when he says "do not move the head," but

will he tell us how, with a perfectly stiff and straight right leg,

and no movement whatever of the head, he is going to transfer his

weight to his right leg? for, as he truly says on page 20, "If the

head is kept still, no swaying of the body can be indulged in."

There is a very remarkable statement on page 20. Mr. Travis says: "Any

doubt as to whether the head is moved may easily be satisfied by the

player assuming a position with the sun immediately at the back of

him, and watching the shadow of the head during the swing. If the

head is shown to move, the swing should be persistently practised

until this fault is remedied." If I were not now writing practical

golf myself, I might suggest putting in a peg on the ground to watch

whether one's shadow impinged on this peg or not, but as a matter of

practical golf if I considered anything of this nature necessary, I

should prefer a string stretched across by my right ear so that

swaying would be bound to make me touch it, but as a matter of

_intensely practical golf_ neither of these expedients is in the least

degree necessary if the player will only get it firmly rooted in his

mind that his weight must be on his left leg at the top of his swing,

and he will then find that he has no temptation whatever to sway.

On page 23 Mr. Travis says: "It is not really the length alone of the

downward swing that contributes distance so much as the rapidity with

which the club head is moving at, and just after the moment of

impact." It is almost unnecessary to draw attention to the fact that

what happens "just after the moment of impact" does not much matter to

the ball. It is what happens during the impact which is of importance,

although it stands to reason that if the speed during impact has been

sufficient, just after impact it will still be the same, minus the

force expended on the golf ball.

Mr. Travis makes a terrible error in _Practical Golf_ when he says,

speaking of the downward swing: "Let him resolve to centralise the

power of the stroke immediately the ball is reached."

This is an idea fatal to good golf. As I have frequently pointed out,

and as James Braid in _How to Play Golf_ also emphasises, the meeting

between the ball and the club should be _merely an incident_. Any

attempt to try to do anything during impact in the drive is futile.

Mr. Travis at page 24 makes the same error with regard to the speed of

the club after the ball has been hit. He says: "A great deal more

depends upon the maintenance of speed after the ball is struck than is

commonly supposed. This part of the stroke is known as the

follow-through, and plays a very important part in the length of the

drive as in straightness." Mr. Travis evidently does not perfectly

realise that the follow-through is of no importance whatever except as

the natural result of the correctly played first part of the stroke,

and the maintenance of speed after the ball has been struck is of no

importance provided that the first portion of the stroke has been

properly executed and at a sufficient pace. The only importance of the

maintenance of speed in any way whatever is that this indicates that

the first half has been correctly performed.

Mr. Travis seems to be very hazy as to the causes of slicing and

pulling. A ball being hit slightly to the right of its centre would

not necessarily produce a slice, although it would probably deflect it

from its intended line of flight. A slice is produced by the amount of

rotation which is imparted to the ball by the glancing blow. He says:

"With a pulled ball it is just the opposite--the ball is hit to the

left of its centre, that is, nearer the player, producing a spin from

right to left." This is not in any way necessary. The ball may be hit

absolutely at the point farthest from the hole, and with the club at a

perfect right angle to the intended line of flight, but the point

which Mr. Travis does not mention is that the club is travelling

upward across the intended line of flight and outward from the player.

This it is which produces the beneficial spin of the ball in the

pull.

At page 31, Mr. Travis says: "Every golfing stroke describes a circle,

or a segment of a circle." This is an egregious error, for the golf

stroke, quite naturally from the method of its production, bears a far

greater likeness to an oval than to a circle. Anyone endeavouring to

produce the golf stroke as a circle would certainly not get either a

very graceful or a very accurate result. Mr. Travis falls into the

astonishing error for a man who plays golf so well as he does, of

thinking that it is possible to juggle with the golf ball by means of

a golf club during impact. Speaking of brassy play, he says: "The

lofted face, joined to the slight whipping up of the hands at the

proper time--that is after the club meets the ball--will produce the

desired result. Don't on any account seek to bring the hands up too

quickly, otherwise a top will assuredly result."

Mr. Travis here falls into the common error with regard to using the

wrists during impact. It will be observed that he avoided it in

dealing with the follow-through, but in this matter he makes the usual

error. This turning up of the wrists which he refers to comes long

after the ball has been hit, and is the natural turn up which follows

any slice or any cut played to raise a ball suddenly.

At page 41 he makes the same error, for he says: "By striking the ball

slightly towards the heel of the club, and immediately after bringing

the arms somewhat in and finishing well out, a slight spin is imparted

to the ball which causes it to rise more quickly." Here it is clear

that he thinks that one may, after impact, do something with the hands

to affect the manner in which the ball leaves the club. There could

not possibly be any greater fallacy in golf than this. That this is a

rooted fallacy of Mr. Travis I shall show later on when I deal with

his remarks about bunker play.

Mr. Travis says at page 49: "Hitting with the heel of the club meeting

the ground after the ball is struck will cause the ball to rise more,

and, joined to the spin imparted by drawing in the arms and turning

the wrists upward, will produce a very dead ball with hardly any run.

The science of the stroke consists in hitting very sharply, and

turning the wrists upward immediately after the ball is struck."

Here we see the same delusion. The essence of this stroke is purely a

matter of practical golf which I have not seen mentioned in any book

or essay on golf. When one plays a ball off the heel of one's mashie,

it stands to reason that one gets the ball on the very narrowest

portion of the blade, and that therefore one hits the ball as far

beneath the centre of the ball's mass as it is possible to do--so much

so, in fact, that a very considerable portion of the ball overlaps the

top of the face of the club. This puts a tremendous amount of undercut

or stop on the ball. This is the practical golf of the shot which Mr.

Travis is attempting to describe, but his idea of putting cut on it by

juggling with it during impact is fatal.

In speaking of approach puts, Mr. Travis gives some wonderful advice.

He says: "You should aim to hit the ball as if it were your intention

to drive it into the ground.... This will cause the ball to jump, due

to its contact with the ground immediately after being struck." This

is practical golf of a nature which we may very well pass without

discussion. I think that there are very few golfers who will desire to

bounce the ball off the earth when they can play it off the face of

the club.

This is Mr. Travis' advice as to how to cut the put. At page 65 he

says: "Put cut on the ball by drawing the arms in a trifle just at the

moment of striking." The drawing of the arms across the ball is not to

be done at the moment of striking. It starts at the beginning of the

swing and finishes at the end thereof. This is how cut is put on a put

by practical golf. Mr. Travis advises for putting that people should

select "a particular blade of grass" on the line to the hole. He then

says: "Take your stance and square the face of the putter at perfect

right angles to the blade of grass you have picked out." As a matter

of practical golf I may remark that blades of grass have a remarkable

family likeness.

Mr. Travis says: "Close observation of all missed puts discloses the

interesting fact that by far the large majority go to the left of the

hole, thereby indicating the presence of the pull, due to the arms

being slightly drawn in just after striking." This is what is called a

sliced put in England, but again as a matter of practical golf I may

say that many of these puts are simply misdirected, such misdirection

being due to the turning over of the wrists _too soon_ in the action

of striking the ball. Unless one determinedly follows through well

down the line the natural tendency is to hook one's put across the

line, but this does not indicate any pull. It merely indicates, if of

frequent occurrence, ignorance or carelessness.

Speaking of stymies, Mr. Travis says: "Occasionally you will be

confronted with an absolutely dead stymie by having your opponent's

ball just on the edge of the cup, your own being so close, say seven

inches to a foot away, that it is impossible to negotiate the stroke

by either curling around or lofting. In such extremity there is only

one way of getting your ball in the hole unaccompanied by your

opponent's, and that is by what is technically known in billiards as

the follow shot." As a matter of practical golf the stymie stroke

introduced by me is far more likely to prove successful in this case

than the follow shot, for we are dealing with very tricky things when

we try to play billiards with golf balls covered with numerous

excrescences or dimples. If the stymie described by Mr. Travis is

played by my stroke, it should be got five times out of six, and I

very much doubt if Mr. Travis or anybody else could get anything like

this with the run through stroke.

Writing of "Playing out of hazards," Mr. Travis says: "Then bring it

down again on the same line with all the force you can controllably

command, consistent with accuracy. As it sinks into the sand its

course may then, but not until then, be slightly directed towards the

ball."

Coming from a practical golfer this is an absolutely amazing

statement. The idea of attempting to deflect one's niblick from the

line originally mapped out for it as it enters the sand is too amazing

and too utterly unsound to merit any further comment or notice, except

to say that it would be impossible to deflect the club head from the

line of travel mapped out for it at this moment without materially

reducing the force of the blow, and when one is hitting into heavy

sand, to get underneath the ball and in many cases to get it out of

the bunker without even touching it with the club, every pound of

force that can be put into the club is necessary.

There is another thing which Mr. Travis tells us that certainly is not

practical golf, and it does not seem to me to be practical carpentry,

but he says at page 126, speaking of the brassy: "The screws which

hold the blade sometimes work loose. This trouble may easily be

remedied by putting glue in the holes before inserting the screws."

One is never too old to learn, and I think that in any future efforts

I may make at amateur carpentry, I shall glue my nails!

Mr. Travis makes a very remarkable statement at page 139, speaking of

the guttie ball as opposed to the Haskell: "The latter, by reason of

its greater comparative resiliency does not remain in contact with the

club head quite so long, and therefore does not receive the full

benefit of the greater velocity of the stroke in the same proportion

as the less resilient guttie"; but surely the greater the resiliency

of the ball the longer it will remain in contact with the club. It

should be obvious that one of the reasons for the greater swerve in

the sliced or pulled rubber-cored ball as compared with the guttie, is

that on account of the longer period of impact the ball acquires a

greater amount of spin.

Speaking of the waggle, Mr. Travis is delightfully indefinite. He says

"With the club gripped pretty firmly with both hands in the manner

already described, it is well to see that the whole machinery is in

good working order by waggling the club a few times over the ball,

allowing the wrists to turn freely, without, however, relaxing the

grip. The waggle should be entirely free from any stiffness, which

simply means that the wrists should be brought into active play."

This is certainly delightfully vague, and is not, I am afraid, of much

use to anyone as a matter of practical golf. The waggle is

unquestionably of importance in the game of golf, otherwise it is

quite improbable that we should see it employed by so many of the

famous players. The curious thing about this waggle is that it seems

to be confined to games wherein one plays a stationary ball. The same

operation is gone through at billiards with the cue, but is there

known as cueing at the ball. With a very great number of players the

waggle may be described as moral cowardice--an excuse for putting off

the evil moment. Many players convert the waggle into a performance

which is both tedious and stupid, and which instead of giving them a

better chance of hitting the ball, has a very great chance of

absolutely putting them off their stroke.

I do not know that I have ever seen the necessity for the waggle

explained, nor have I seen the waggle of any of the famous players

illustrated. There can, however, be very little question that in the

majority of cases the address and waggle is unnecessarily exaggerated

and prolonged.

In _Modern Golf_ I have illustrated George Duncan's waggle. So far as

I am aware, this is the only time that such a thing has been done.

Duncan is probably the quickest player living, so that it will not be

necessary for us to assume that every one will be satisfied with so

little preliminary work as Duncan puts in before hitting the ball. His

method of playing is to take his line to the hole as much as he can as

he approaches the ball. He then marches straight up to it and takes

his stance, at the same time swinging his club head out so that it is

roughly on a level with his waist and pointing towards the hole, but

being at the same time almost above the line of flight to the hole. He

then brings his club back to the ball, and addresses it in the usual

way, soling his club close behind the ball. Now he lifts the club

practically straight up for six or nine inches and carries it forward

of the ball in a gentle curve for about six inches. From here he

carries the club head back along the plane of flight produced through

the ball as far as it will go without turning his wrists over. The

club then is swung easily and naturally back to the ball almost in the

same manner as it would come to it in the drive, until it arrives

close behind the ball, but about two inches from the turf, when it

sinks to rest by dropping straight down behind the ball. It is now

soled again as in the original address.

This sounds like a somewhat lengthy process, but as a matter of fact

it is probably the shortest waggle used by any golf player who is in

the front rank. In fact, so rapid is Duncan in his play, that very

frequently spectators who are not accustomed to his methods, do not

see him play the ball, as they allow for the more deliberate style

generally followed by the other leading professionals. In Duncan we

have a player who in my opinion is as good a golfer as anyone in the

world. We see clearly that he wastes very little time in addressing

his ball, either through the green or on the putting-green. On the

other hand, we see some men of greater fame than Duncan whose

deliberation is tedious in the extreme, although it must be admitted

that in so far as regards the waggle in the drive, the great players

do not overdo this nearly so much as do amateurs of an inferior class.

I am not aware that anybody has yet explained the reason for the

waggle. It seems that it is a natural movement, or in some cases a

very unnatural movement, which players fall into in endeavouring to

readjust their distance from the ball and their position with regard

to the line of flight. Very many players who waggle, produce most

remarkable flourishes with their club. The club is made to describe

curves in the air which it could not possibly do in any other

operation at golf than the waggle. The whole object of the waggle

seems to be to allow the player to get his eye in, as it is commonly

called, at the ball, to loosen his joints, and, which is a point that

I have not seen previously made, in a measure to produce in

anticipation the motions of his wrists and club immediately before,

at, and after impact with the ball.

If this view of the object of the waggle be accepted as correct, it is

obvious that in nine cases of ten the attempted waggle is force

hopelessly wasted--in fact, worse than wasted, for it has been

occupied in describing weird geometrical figures in the air, figures

which can have no possible reference whatever to the work which the

club is expected to do. In Duncan's waggle it will be observed that

firstly he swings his club head out down the line towards the hole,

and secondly that he carries it back for a considerable distance from

the ball in the plane of flight produced through the ball. It will be

seen from this that to a great extent he produces in the waggle the

same motions as his forearms and wrists go through immediately before,

at, and after impact with the ball. On examining the photographs of

Duncan's hands in the drive, we find that for the space of nearly two

feet before he reaches the ball, and probably for quite that distance

after the ball has been struck and he has continued the

follow-through, there is no turning over of the wrists--that during

this space of roughly three feet, the space wherein James Braid says

that the wrists _have it all their own way_, Duncan's wrists are

practically quiescent, and that during the whole of this time the club

is travelling at almost its maximum speed, but the arms and wrists are

doing very little more to it than to withstand the centrifugal force

developed in the earlier part of the swing and to keep themselves

braced to withstand the shock of impact.

These are merely a few instances taken haphazard from a book called

_Practical Golf_ by one who is, undoubtedly, in so far as regards his

own play, a practical golfer. This does not, however, prevent him from

furnishing another and a very striking example of the curious fact

that nearly all good golfers teach the game in a manner entirely

different from that in which they play it, and that their tuition, if

followed out, must result in their followers learning to play in very

bad form, and probably also learning much which has to be painfully

unlearnt later on when they have discovered the truth.

AFTERWORD

It would be very easy for me now to begin to explain in the ordinary

manner of golf books how the game is played, but to do so would be

going outside the scope of this work, and interfering either with the

proper functions of the professional, or the proper practice of the

intelligent golfer.

I have, in this book, taken my readers through all those matters which

are of the most vital importance to the game, and practically

everything which is contained between the covers of this book may be

better studied and digested by the golfer, be he a champion or a

beginner, in his arm-chair than on the links. He who wishes to know

golf to the core, must know what is in this book, all of which he can

thoroughly understand without taking a club in his hands.

The whole fault of the false doctrine which has been so plentifully

published about golf in the past, is that it has given the unfortunate

people who have taken notice of it an incalculable number of things to

think about. The truest and best tuition in golf is that which

advances by a process of elimination and so proceeds that it gives the

learner a minimum number of separate circumstances to think about

during his game; in fact, if the tuition has been properly carried out

the golfer will have astonishingly little to think of at the moment

when he is making his stroke. This is the ideal condition of mind.

The remark which the puzzled golfer made to me that when he started on

his downward swing he had so many things to think of that he was "all

of a dither" expresses marvellously accurately the condition of mind

of about ninety per cent of golfers who think they have studied golf.

The golfer who studies this book soundly and intelligently will learn

what he will learn from no other book on golf, and that is what a vast

number of things there are in connection with the golf stroke which it

is expedient to forget at the moment one is making it.

Let me give an illustration of what I mean. The golfer is told now

that at the top of his swing he must get his weight on to his right

foot, and that he must keep his head still. The merest attempt to do

this produces a conflict at once. Then he is told that his left hand

must dominate the right: here is conflict again. But when he learns

that in order to keep his head still he must put his weight at the top

of his swing on his left foot, the conflict vanishes, he finds that it

is natural and easy to do; and he forgets to encumber his mind with

the fact that it has to be done, so that it becomes just as habitual

with him to put his weight in the right place as it is when he is

walking. The same thing applies with regard to the instructions which

he has always had drilled into him to allow the left hand and arm to

usurp the position of the right. Here again he is distinctly exhorted

to encourage these two members to enter into conflict during the

stroke. Although I explained to him most clearly that this idea about

the left being the more important member of the two is utterly wrong,

and that the right is, and always must be, the dominant member in the

golf swing, I did not tell him to remember this during the golf swing,

and he is indeed a very foolish person if he attempts to remember it.

All he has to do is to cut the false doctrine out of his mind, and

nature will attend to the rest. So it will be seen that when one has

grasped the truth in connection with golf one has advanced by such a

process of elimination that there is left for the happy golfer when he

addresses his ball very little to think of but hitting that ball.

Golf in the past has suffered from the multiplicity of false

directions. It is by recognising these for what they are, and by

forgetting them that the golfer will ultimately arrive at _The Soul of

Golf_.

INDEX

Accelerating speed, Vardon on, 104

Address and impact similar, Braid on, 137

Address, Braid on, 133

Apportionment of back-spin, 263, 270, 271

Arm roll in stroke, 210

Arms measure distance, 46, 174

As you go up so you come down, 97, 219

Ayres, F. H., Ltd., 289, 324

Ayres, Mr. Rupert, 289-291

Back-spin at impact, rate of, 272

how obtained, 247

Professor Tait's experiment, 225

Professor Thomson's error, 246

Badminton _Golf_, 120, 158, 214, 218

_Badminton Magazine_, 222, 226

Ball, Mr. John, 153, 157

Ball, action of, during impact, 237

brambly, inaccuracy off putter, 287

centre of gravity, 292

centre of gravity, test for, 294

effect of marking, 302

effect of untrue centre, 299

flight parallel with earth, 265

guttie, truth of, 294

Haskell, 253

indented or dimpled, 286

instability of the golf, 284

smooth, flight of, 289, 311

tests, 296

the golf, 283

track of, on green, 286

unscientifically made, 261

Balls, dimpled, 291

Base ball, spin in, 233

Beauty of flight, 3

Billiard balls, excrescences on, 283

Billiards, blind spot in, 175

Blackwell, Mr. Edward, 153

Blindfold golf, 164

Blind spot, 168, 169, 173

Blow in golf horizontal, Professor Tait, 265

upward, 265

Body movement after impact, 167

Braid on distribution of weight, 119, 135

on influence of club after impact, 101

on putting, 50, 55, 58, 77

Braid's putting, 75, 76

uncertainty about wrist work, 208

Bullet, drift of, 235

Catapults, Sir Ralph Payne-Gallwey's, 296

Cleek, push stroke with, 194

Vardon's push shot with, 194

Clubs, all illegal, 322

construction of, 316

rusty, 333

_Contemporary Review_, 320

Corkscrew action in stroke, Braid on, 213

Croome, Mr. A. C. M., 198, 199

Cross-bow, Professor Tait's experiment, 266

Cross wind, Professor Thomson on, 240

Sir Ralph Payne-Gallwey on, 298

Vardon on, 256

Cut, principles of, 89

Cutting round a stymie, 73

Direction, demand for, 3

Downward swing, control of, 133, 278

Downward swing, Duncan and Vardon, 130

Drag for bolting puts, 62, 63

in putting, 60

Drive, tension of muscles during, 38

Duncan, George, 7, 82

and mashie stroke, 72, 82

and smooth ball, 289, 309

Dynamical problems, Professor Thomson on, 228

Elimination the secret of coaching, 352

English mental attitude towards games, 4

_English Review, The_, 267

_Evening Standard and St. James's Gazette_, 288

Eye, lifting the, 34, 35

Eyes, effect of, on weight, 167

function of, 162, 163

movement of, 166

Vardon on movement of, 168

Fallacies of golf, 95

Feet, movement of, Duncan, Vardon, and Braid, 134

"Flick" in golf stroke, 213

Flight of ball, 222

Follow-through, 128, 129

control of, 278

Forearms, action of Duncan's, 210

in stroke, roll of, 210

Freemasonry of golf, 6

_Fry's Magazine_, photographs in, 125, 138

Golf books, unscrupulous practices, 10

_Golf Illustrated_, 197

and Professor Thomson, 253

Golfers groping their way, Braid, 269

Grip, apportionment of power in, 150

old, 152, 153

overlapping, 152