ON FOURSOMES
The four-ball foursome--Its inferiority to the old-fashioned
game--The case of the long-handicap man--Confusion on the
greens--The man who drives last--The old-fashioned two-ball
foursome--Against too many foursomes--Partners and each
other--Fitting in their different games--The man to oblige--The
policy of the long-handicap partner--How he drove and missed in the
good old days--On laying your partner a stymie--A preliminary
consideration of the round--Handicapping in foursomes--A too
delicate reckoning of strokes given and received--A good foursome
and the excitement thereof--A caddie killed and a hole lost--A
compliment to a golfer.
I think it is to be regretted that the old-fashioned foursome, in which
the respective partners play together with the same ball, has so
completely lost favour of late, and that it has been superseded to a
large extent by the four-ball foursome. To my mind the old foursome
provided a much more interesting and enjoyable game than its successor,
and tended much more to the cultivation of good qualities in a golfer.
It seems to me that this new four-ball game is a kind of mongrel
mixture. It is played, I presume, because men feel that they would like
to have a game of partners and yet are unwilling to sacrifice half the
strokes of a round, as they do in the old game, and also because the man
who is on his game desires all his power and brilliancy to count, and
that they may not be interfered with by the possibly erratic procedure
of his partner. But this is a selfish spirit, and quite opposed to that
which should properly animate the men who play in combination. When a
golfer is thus anxious for the display of his skill, surely an ordinary
single-ball match is the proper thing for him. The four-ball foursome,
I admit, has much to recommend it when the partners are equally matched,
when both are really good players--more likely to do a hole in bogey
than not--and when the course is clear and there is no prospect of their
protracted game interfering with other players who may be coming up
behind. When a short-handicap man is mated with a long one, the place of
the latter in a foursome of the new kind is to my thinking not worth
having. Is it calculated to improve his golf, or to afford him
satisfaction of any kind whatever, if he plays his ball round in what is
for him very good form, and yet only contributes the halving of a single
hole as his share of the victory of the combination? Very likely after
such a game he will feel that he must fall back once more on that old
excuse of the golfer for a disappointing day, that at all events he has
had the fresh air and the exercise. The tasting of the pure atmosphere
and the working of limb and muscle are splendid things, enough to
justify any day and any game, but no golfer is heard to put them in the
forefront of the advantages he has derived from his day's participation
in the game unless the golf he has played has been miserably
disappointing. This new foursome is also a selfish game, because it is
generally played with too little regard for the convenience and feelings
of other golfers on the links. It is very slow, and couples coming up
behind, who do not always care to ask to be allowed to go through, are
often irritated beyond measure as they wait while four balls are played
through the green in front of them, and eight putts are taken on the
putting green. The constant waiting puts them off their game and spoils
their day.
Another objection that I urge against this kind of game is, that even
when there is nobody pressing behind and there is no particular reason
for hurry, there is a natural tendency on the part of each player to
make haste so that he shall not delay the other three. This is the case
all the way through the green, and particularly when the hole is
reached and the putters are taken out. Then everybody's ball seems to be
in the way of the others, there is continual lifting and replacing, more
hurrying, and then, to make matters worse, there is a doubt as to what a
man should do in order to help his side--whether he should hole out in
one or two, or whether there is any use in holing out at all.
Consequently his mind is in a confused state of reckoning and doubt when
he makes his putt, and poor putt it is likely to be in such
circumstances. Frequently, when a blind hole is being played, it needs a
few minutes' close examination to decide which ball is which after the
drive, unless each has been carefully marked to distinguish it from the
others. As a final indictment against this species of golf, I would say
that even when the partners are equally matched and both good players,
there is still a tendency for their individual play to be spoiled,
inasmuch as there is the feeling constantly present in the mind of each,
that even if he does happen to do a bad hole it will not matter very
much after all, as the other man is sure to come to the rescue. When it
happens that just the same thought enters the brain of that other man, a
lost hole is likely to be the result. Decidedly this is not the sort of
game to improve the golfer's play.
The four-ball foursome is so very like two single matches that there is
little special advice to offer concerning the playing of it. One of the
few special points to be observed by the player who is taking part in
such a match is that, without being unduly selfish and grasping, he
should as frequently as possible avoid being the last man of the four to
make his drive from the tee. The man who drives last is at a very
obvious disadvantage. In the first place, if he has seen the other three
make really good drives, he is too much tempted to try to beat them all,
and the usual result of such temptation is a bad stroke. On the other
hand, if he has seen two or three foozles, it is quite possible that he
will follow the bad example that has been set him. Thus, whatever has
happened before, the last man has no real encouragement offered to him.
In addition to these objections, when three men have driven from the tee
they are somewhat impatient to be moving on and playing their second
shots, and in this mood they have little care for what happens to the
last drive. They have already had quite enough of driving. The fourth
man is quite conscious of this impatience on their part, even though it
may not be openly expressed by the smallest sign. So he is in a hurry to
oblige, and his effort is then disappointing. I seldom hit my best ball
when I am driving fourth in a four-ball foursome. Of course somebody
must drive last, but not necessarily the same man every time. All that I
wish to suggest is, that a player should not be too self-sacrificing,
and should not, with too much modesty about his own prowess on the tee,
always volunteer to drive after his partner.
The old-fashioned or two-ball foursome makes a really fine and enjoyable
game. It brings golfers together on even more intimate and friendly
relations than usual. Partners in a foursome see very deep down into the
human nature of each other. They are overwhelmingly conscious of each
other's faults and weaknesses. They are enormously dependent upon each
other. At the same time I do not think that even this kind of foursome
is the best thing in the world for the improvement of a man's game, and
I advise the young player to resist the temptation to take part in too
many foursomes, to the neglect of ordinary match play in singles. For
one thing, the partners, of course, only get half as much golf as they
would if they were playing a round in a single match, and for another,
they are too constantly anxious to play their best game. The sense of
responsibility is frequently a little too much for their nerves, and you
often see a man, a most dogged and persistent player in an ordinary
match, who is a consistent failure in foursomes, and who in this style
of game ought to be rated at six strokes higher handicap than his
allowance for ordinary purposes. One feels in a foursome that one must
be so very careful, and take so much extra pains, and when that feeling
is uppermost in the mind while the stroke is being made, the result is
often disastrous.
It is unwise to interfere unduly with a partner's system of play while a
match is in progress. He may be missing his drive because his stance is
wrong or his swing is faulty, but the state of affairs would probably be
worse than ever if an attempt were made to put him right while the game
is going on. The hint will be more useful when the match is over. And if
he has a particular fancy for playing his brassy, when experience tells
you that an iron club should be taken, it will not generally pay to make
the suggestion at the time. The man naturally takes the club with which
he has most confidence and with which he believes he can make the shot
that is wanted. It is fatal to interfere with confidence of this kind,
and to substitute for it the hesitation and doubt which inevitably take
possession of the man when he takes in his hands a weapon with which he
rarely does well, and which, whatever you may tell him, he is convinced
is utterly inadequate for the purposes of the situation. Let each man
play the various strokes that have to be made in a foursome in his own
way without interference, for nothing but chaos and a lost match can
follow upon the enforcement upon each other of individual ideas and
methods.
This, of course, is not saying that each man should not play his game so
that it may fit as well as possible into that of his partner. He may
play with the club he particularly fancies, and play it in his own way,
but there should be some sort of a general understanding about what he
is going to do and the exact effect which his performance is likely to
have upon the way the hole is played if everything happens according to
programme. This makes it very desirable that the partners in a foursome
match to which any importance is attached, should have more than a
passing knowledge of each other's play, and of individual weaknesses and
excellences. One partner may be particularly good at making a fairly
full iron shot, but shaky indeed when it comes to a little pitch with
the mashie over the bunker that guards the green. It is clear, on
reflection, that the chief part in this playing up to each other's game
should be taken by the man who has the longer handicap, and is therefore
the weaker all-round player. The scratch man, being a wise and
experienced golfer, will naturally place his nervous 18-handicap friend
in as few difficulties as he can, and will constantly exert himself to
leave him a comparatively simple shot which he may be depended upon with
some certainty to accomplish in a workmanlike fashion. But the junior
player must remember that it behoves him to be the most careful and
considerate in matters of this kind, for in an emergency it is generally
the senior who must be depended upon to win the hole or pull the match
out of the fire. Let him, therefore, impose upon himself a considerable
measure of self-sacrifice, playing up to his partner for all he is
worth, contented in the knowledge that he is doing the proper thing, and
that, though he is sinking his own individuality and doing much of what
can only be described as donkey work, he is being considerably honoured
by being invited to play in such superior company. It is not always the
place of the junior partner to take risks; that is the prerogative of
the senior. There may be a particular carry on the course which the
young player is always doubtful about, but which when playing alone he
constantly makes an attempt to accomplish, and very properly so. But if
his effort is as often as not a failure--with the result that he is
badly bunkered and the hole is lost--it would be madness for him to
attempt the carry when he is playing in a foursome with a far better man
than himself as his partner. He must depart from his usual custom, and
play short for safety. It will be a great relief to his partner. Not
lately, but in the early years of my experience, I have seen this
principle carried to a curious excess. When there was a difficult carry
from the tee, and an inferior player and short driver had the turn to
make the stroke, I have seen his partner instruct him to miss the ball
altogether--not tap it off the tee, but miss it. Thus the other man,
presumably a good driver, had the ball left teed for him. These men
reckoned between them that on an average it would prove of more
advantage to be well over the far hazard in two strokes, than to take
the risk of being short with the tee shot and possibly not getting over
with the second or even the third. However, there is no doubt that
performances of this kind were a violation of the spirit of golf. It is
the game to hit the ball, and it is unsportsmanlike to try to miss it.
Nowadays the golfing world quite realises that this is the case.
In the same way, in playing through the green and in putting, it must be
the constant object of the junior to play the safety game and to feed
his skilful partner with as many as possible of those strokes at which
he is best. Do not let him try for a desperately long second, emulating
the example which his partner set him on the tee, in the hope that he
may land the ball on the green. He is not expected to do anything of the
kind. If he should happen to be successful, his partner would know that
it was not his usual custom, that he had played beyond himself, and that
therefore there was something of the fluke in the stroke after all. He
would be much more likely to fail and foozle, and then what a miserable
golfer would he be! His obvious duty is to play a simple, easy stroke
which will be practically certain of placing the ball in such a position
that his partner will have no difficulty in getting on the green with
his third. And on the putting green, when anything over ten feet
distance intervenes between the ball and the hole, while always giving
the latter a chance, he should remember that his first duty is to lay
the ball dead. If he holes out, well and good, but his partner insists
first of all that the ball should be laid dead. At this crisis, also, he
should be particularly careful that he never commits the unpardonable
sin of laying himself, or rather his partner, a stymie. Of all the
stymies in the world, that which has been laid you by your own partner
in a foursome is the most exasperating.
Of course, for the proper blending of each partner's game with that of
the other, it is advisable, or rather necessary, that before the first
stroke in the match is taken there should be some kind of general
understanding about the policy that is to be pursued. First
consideration is given to the turn in which the tee shots are to be
taken, and the drives are so arranged that the better player takes them
at a majority of the tees where good drives are most wanted. But it
seems to me that very often an arrangement of this sort is arrived at
without sufficient consideration. For example, it frequently happens
that a long-handicap man is a very good driver indeed, better in fact
than the man who is his partner and has a handicap of many strokes less.
And in the same way it commonly occurs that a short-handicap man may be
decidedly weak with his short approaches. On the average of the play
from the tee to the hole the senior player may be fully so much better
than the other as the difference in their handicaps suggests, but it by
no means follows that in particular features of the game there is the
same difference. Therefore the wise partners will adapt themselves to
each other, so that they will get all the good out of themselves and
leave untouched that which is bad. And when this compact is completed
and honourably adhered to, there are at hand the makings of a victory.
When four players have decided among themselves to play a foursome, and
there are wide differences in their respective handicaps, there is often
considerable difficulty in arranging the best partnerships. It is good
to be guided by mutual preferences, for preference means confidence, and
that is everything in foursome play. But at the same time it is always
advisable to sort out the players in such a manner that there is as
little as possible of giving and receiving strokes. For example, where
there is a scratch man, two 9's (or a 6 and a 10), and an 18, the best
and most enjoyable match is always likely to result from a combination
of the scratch man with the 18 against the two players of medium
handicaps, although the scratch man, if a selfish player, may not be
disposed to saddle himself with the unreliable person at the other end
of the scale. It is a point to be borne in mind that the 18 man, if,
despite his handicap, he is a real and conscientious golfer, is more
likely to play above his handicap than the scratch man. It is much
easier for an 18-handicap player to perform like a 12 than it is for a
scratch man to play like a plus 3. In my opinion the arranging of
strokes to be given and received in foursome play is far too delicate
and complicated. In ordinary single-match play handicapping does not
always work out very well, and it is often made to look foolish in a
foursome. Far better is it than adding up and dividing by clumsy
fractions, and then finding that one party gets five strokes or eight,
that the players should take a broad view of their respective merits,
and then decide that they will either play on level terms or that a
third or a half shall be given and received. The best foursome of all is
one played on level terms, and an effort should always be made, and even
a point strained here and there, to effect such partnerships as will
make this arrangement feasible.
A really good foursome, when the partners play harmoniously and the
holes are well fought out, is a splendid diversion from the ordinary
game of golf. The interest and excitement of each member of the party
often seems to affect the others, and to lead up to an intense mutual
keenness which is often superior even to that experienced in single
play. There is a wholesome satisfaction in the community of interests.
The winning of a hole is coveted as it was never coveted before. Have
you heard what should be a classical story about the foursome? The match
was all square on the sixteenth green, and one excited Scot stood by
while his partner made a drive upon which the fortunes of a hard-fought
game might rest. The caddies had been sent forward. The tee shot was
pulled, and the ball went twisting round in the direction of the
driver's boy. It struck him and he fell flat upon the ground. The
driving partner dropped his club, and, with his face turned pale,
muttered hoarsely to his friend, "Tonalt, I've kilt the caddie!" But
Donald's mind was fixed upon other matters than the mere question of
life and death, and with many excited gestures and a shriek of despair
he exclaimed, "Then, tamn it all, we've lost the hole," as under Rule 25
they had.
At the end of this chapter I will make the simple remark, that you can
pay a golfer no higher compliment than to say that he is a good foursome
player, for such a one must not only be a good golfer and a steady one,
but a man of the serenest and even most delightful temperament. You must
always feel that you could not play in the company of such a man too
often, either with him or against him.