Ian Wood: New Year golf resolutions - smartly conceived and quickly forgotten

Published on Sunday 2 January 2011 15:43

Among my many failed New Year resolutions is the one about trying not to mention New Year resolutions.

The reason for this consistent failure is that usually at this time of the year there isn't much else to go on about. The recent period has been a prime example, most sports having been more or less grounded at one time or another. Golf, for instance, has been something of a non-starter. Many courses had to close for a time and now that they're getting back to business, some of the soggier specimens pose the threat of trenchfoot and the danger of sinking without trace.

That being the case, there's little else to do but dust down a few old resolutions which have flickered and foundered and perhaps, by a process of careful investigation and analysis, establish why they were so short-lived. Why, for instance, did Gary Player's tip about mentally striking a match when playing from bunkers fall on stony ground - if such a phrase can be justified in connection with the negotiation of terrain which is almost 100 per cent sand?

When I first came across that tip, I felt the solution to a great puzzle had just been revealed to me. It made so much sense and was so ridiculously simple. It said it all, suggesting crispness, precision and clean-cut authority. I couldn't wait to get out on the course and put it to the test.

It took about 20 bunker shots to convince me that I couldn't do it.

The shot involved briskly removing a shallow layer of sand from under the ball and by doing so launching the ball on a controlled flight to the holeside. It was, I suppose, the equivalent of an approach from the fairway which used to be described as "cutting the feet from it" - a lofted shot usually played with a mashie-niblick in days of yore and now often seen being played with lob wedges by professionals with great feel and unbelievable confidence.

As a boy, I used to be able to play that shot, or something like it, for it was in common use then, at a time when there weren't any wedges around, there being a war on and so forth. When a bit of instant loft was required, drastic action had to be taken. Willie Park Jun., in a dissertation on the subject, states that the aim of the shot is to "whip the ball up," and says the essence of the stroke lies in "hitting the ball smartly and quickly."

I think it's the smartly and quickly bit that proved my downfall. There's usually a point in my golf swing - and this is not confined to bunker play - when I seem, inadvertently, to move up a gear. At such moments, "smartly" becomes "fast" and quickly becomes a blur. Whatever the truth, what should have been a simple case of cutting the feet from it in sand was totally beyond me. I'd been visualising it ever since I'd read Player's tip, but when it came to the bit, I couldn't do it and still can't.To be more precise, it comes off now and again, but rarely, and when it does, it has little to do with me.

Another vivid image which promised much though it didn't quite deliver, was Ian Woosnam's advice on how to get in a mental groove which will facilitate a sound and powerful swing. The little Welshman advises golfers to imagine they are walking through a field of barley with light sticks in their hands and says: "You would see nothing difficult in flicking off an ear of barley here and there as you walked by."

Having set this idyllic rustic scene, he then proceeds to lay waste to it by suggesting: "Stand still for a moment and take a full swing, to try and knock off as many (ears) as possible." He goes on: "Well, that is exactly what the right-hand side of the body does, when hitting a golf ball."

This tip, too, had a strong appeal for me. It had a promising feel to it and I could sense the whip and freedom which might be generated by such an action. I was intrigued and one warm summer's evening I went out on the course to give it a whirl. The first hole went well and I boarded the second tee in an optimistic mood. The second hole is a par-3 and was playing at around 150 yards. As I addressed the ball, I could smell the barley. The swing, when it came, was relaxed and oily, just as Sam Snead said it should be.

I realise this is the point where the inevitable let-down normally occurs, but on this occasion it didn't. The impact was sweet as the proverbial nut and, as the ball soared on its way, I knew I couldn't have hit it any better. I was scarcely surprised when the ball dropped in for a 1. A golfer who'd just driven off the third tee came across to offer his congratulations and I'd have felt strangely humble if I hadn't been so pleased with myself. The let-down, incidentally, came at the fourth and I couldn't have cared less.