Golf is not like religion: dedication is not enough. If you really want to become a better golfer, you need to spend time chipping and putting
It's one of those milestones you can't quite downplay. The middle of your fifth decade on this planet offers such an infallible argument for introspection that it is pointless to resist it. Assuming you're lucky enough to live to be 90, then you've just turned the corner. And the prospect of taking stock in the clubhouse before reaching the back nine seems fair and cautious, almost thrilling. People in the groups further on say that the course only gets more difficult from here. “You've done your best, but you can't avoid growing up now, my friend… Do you have any epiphanies?” asks the playing partner. Immediately your father's words, spoken years ago, ring in your ears. “If you can call someone with something like that an adult.”
I still have that piece of daddy. But I learned to play for it. If there is even a glimmer of wisdom, it is the realization that haphazard hard work is foolish; rather, it's about working hard at the right things. Your swing thoughts cannot be internal; not about positions and how to hit the ball. But rather, as Bubba Watson says, “out there.” Golf, like life, is out there. Choose a line where the ball should start and a place where it should end. Close the loop, and then just go ahead and do it. Don't hinder yourself with thoughts and trust your instincts, because that's all you knew as a teenager: how to send a ball to a goal. Balls were expensive and precious and 'driving range' is a phrase you've never heard before. Your father glared at you and made you find the ginger ball if you happened to hit it in the boondocks. There was a very real need to keep that ball in play.
Once again, golf has come to your rescue: it offers an irrepressible digression into existential dilemmas. The more you think about that, the more that theory reaffirms its validity. Ben Hogan had no video analysis; he didn't even have high-speed cameras. And the greatest workman and experimenter the game has known worked on his swing based on what the ball did after leaving the clubface and where it landed in relation to where he hit it.
Professional golf on the PGA Tour in the 1960s and 1970s didn't have the kind of money players make today. Making the cut was often what put the gas in the car to play the next event, or the difference between sleeping in a motel or in your car. Placing the ball in a spot on the green was not only important, but crucial. That would explain why most professional players in India who graduate from the caddy ranks almost always end up on the circuit, while a number of kids from affluent economic backgrounds do not. A privileged background has its own price. You get the curse of choice; good luck realizing your potential.
On your desk at work there's a sign that says, “Professionals can do their best work even when they don't feel like it.” That's very admirable, and you like the thought. But you never followed it. If you don't feel like doing something, you only do it if you have to. And the fact that you have acquired a reliable, even beautiful, greenside bunker splash technique must really be attributed to chance and luck. If you really want to become a better golfer, you need to spend time chipping and putting. Actually, that should be all you practice. Come to think of it, if this new decade can trade some of your height off the tee for some finesse around the greens, then you'll gladly take it. When former world number one Yani Tseng spoke about the focus on hitting the ball 'as hard as possible' during her first few years of playing the game, she was talking about her childhood. Golf rarely rewards the player who smashes the ball with all his might. Say that to yourself every day.
You'll remember a lesson from Amandeep Johl, the PGTI (Professional Golf Tour of India) veteran, at the Siri Fort driving range in Delhi. You were disappointed when he didn't give you a detailed swing analysis. “You're too focused on your body,” he said after watching you hit a few balls, adding, “Just go back to trying to hit the ball at a target without thinking about how you're doing it . ” It takes a few weeks for the wisdom of that advice to filter through. “Golfers, stop all that thinking,” was all Sam Snead had to say about golf instruction.
Like many golfers, you love yoga. You were lured into it by the promise of more flexibility in the backswing, but stayed hooked because of what it did to your overall sense of well-being. But when you really dived deep, you realized you were doing it for the wrong reasons. The asanas are only a small part of yoga; their purpose is merely, as Iyengar puts it, “to make the body a vehicle suitable for the soul.” When you fall in love with one element, you may never see the whole. Stop golf swinging. It is the game that deserves your attention.
The swing is set. It's not perfect, far from it. But it's your swing. And when you learn to trust it again, you know that you are doing well. In fact, it's time to forget about the swing altogether and start hitting some shots.
Winter is just around the corner and hopefully some showers are in the offing to clear some of the grime from Delhi's air. There's only one reasonable thing to do on a Sunday like this. Set it to cowboy. And stop snooping.
Meraj Shah is a Delhi-based writer, golfer and television producer.