Ian Wood: Different strokes are hard to master

Published on Sunday 7 June 2009 22:53

OLD habits die hard, they say, and they're probably right. The trouble is that there isn't much to be done about it. A habit's a habit and the older it is the more it has become built into the system. I am currently trying to snap out of a habit which has been with me since I was a member of the Mickey Mouse Club. I mention the club merely to convey the message that this habit set in early and is, as a consequence, seriously old. It is the habit of putting with the hands set low and

The repeating swing has been the talk of the game for a long time now and the irony of my situation is that the only part of my game that repeats on a regular basis, is my putting stroke and it's killing me. Changing things is not going to be easy. Setting the hands low came about because I feel comfortable that way. Of course, when I started, I didn't know the putter's toe was off the ground at address. Ignorance, in this instance, wasn't all bliss, but it kept rogue thoughts at bay. Things you don't know about don't worry you. Once some well-wisher had told me about the putterhead, I was more or less doomed and the corrosion has been progressive ever since.

Playing in a tournament run by W.D. and H.O. Wills at Dalmahoy, Peter Thomson used a brass-headed putter we hadn't seen before and apparently he had a few wobbles with it in an early round. At a press conference, he was asked if he was aware he had the toe of the putter slightly off the ground at address and he replied that over the years he'd noticed that people only mentioned this idiosyncrasy when things went wrong. When all was well – and in his case it usually was – the airborne toe was never mentioned. Actually, compared to Isao Aoki, Thomson was a model of correctness when it came to wielding a putter. The Japanese golfer was one of the deadliest greensmen in the game and the toe of his putter remained untouched by grass throughout his career.

As it turned out, Thomson went on to win the Dalmahoy tournament, which suggests he hadn't allowed the voices of doubt to get to him, but then there's nothing like a few Open championships to stiffen the resolve and he had five. Not having this kind of morale-booster to fall back on, I don't have the same ability to withstand the voices and, anyway, my putting has never been much to write home about. This being the case, I've decided to try arching the wrists – a decision I take with grave misgivings.

I've had fitful spells of arching before, but they never lasted. This was partly because the high hand position seemed to render me incapable of smooth movement. Also, I felt I'd been trussed up and nailed to the ground. Even the pre-putt squint along the line became robotic, an uneasy swivel which did everything except creak and, I suspected, gave me a bird-like look I could well do without. However, I've been persuaded to experiment further after being loaned a Scotty Cameron putter designed along the lines of the early Pings and which more or less demands that the user sets the head squarely on the ground and arranges him or herself around the club.

A disciplined approach is called for, with no slouching or lounging around and the hands have to be arched. It feels awful, but then most of my failed putters felt great and caused nothing but misery. This way, the misery comes first and, with a bit of luck and perseverance, glittering success will follow. Little has happened as yet, but this is a time for patience. A small number of putts have fallen, but then, you'd sink a few with a clothes-pole if you kept at it long enough. I don't expect early results. I am only too well aware that putters don't show their true and generally nasty natures until money has changed hands and that won't happen in a hurry.

I feel no guilt about this leisurely payment business, for I've been on the non-receiving end myself on many occasions. For instance, an acquaintance became interested in a 3-wood of mine which he knew I was about to ditch and asked if he might try it out with a view to a possible purchase. This was a few years ago. Fairly recently, I suggested that he might, by this time, have come to some sort of conclusion about the prospects for a more permanent union of club and golfer.

It is not putting it too strongly to say he looked wounded. I could only assure him he wasn't half as wounded as I was.