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The fine line
Posted: Friday June 16, 2000 01:18 PM
Sports Illustrated senior writer John Garrity was a 42-year-old 8-handicapper when he suddenly lost his swing. Since December 1989 he has been looking for it -- a modern-day Odysseus adrift on the troubled waters of swing theory. As Garrity travels the world reporting on golf, he visits as many driving ranges as he can, avoiding the dreaded "mats only" ranges that prevent him from teeing it up.
Thursday, June 15 PEBBLE BEACH, CALIF.-- I shot a 99 yesterday morning at Spyglass Hill, and at one point my playing partner commented, "Six must be your favorite number." He was too polite to add that the repeated motif, "6-6-6," was a clear indication of Satanic influence. Anyway, I shot 99, the kind of number I have put up over the last decade whenever some slight swing flaw sabotages an otherwise formidable game. There were, of course, mitigating circumstances. The sun was shining brightly, the wind wasn't blowing, and deer were frolicking in the fairways. Who can play under those conditions? The oddest thing was, my 99 was not the result of a "meltdown" as I have come to know (and personify) the term. I chunked no chips, popped-up no drives, laid no sod over the ball. I birdied a par-3 from five feet. I hit five drives that I could have sold to any pro. I was pin-high in two on the par-5 first hole. So how, you ask -- okay, I ask -- did I shoot 99? First reason: Spyglass Hill. It's a very hard golf course, if you haven't heard. Everywhere you look you've got deep bunkers, oceans, forests, iceplant, and terrain that is, overall, more severe than the tee line at Chelsea Pier.
Second reason: Sand phobia. As I have mentioned in recent columns, my recent swing and equipment changes have for some reason left me incapable of hitting an explosion shot. I have tried every setup imaginable, every swing plane, face open, face square, cut swing, hook swing, you name it, and I can't hit the so-called "easiest shot in golf." Yesterday I had four greenside bunker shots - one partly buried and three up close to the lip -- and I airmailed the green with all four. I desperately need a sand lesson from Brian Mogg. Or from Brian Boitano, for that matter. Third reason: Putting. I have a good putting stroke, but when it comes to reading unfamiliar greens I am functionally illiterate. I never once got up and down at Spyglass, and I three-putted eight times. My problem was distance control. Unable to see the ambient slope because of the trees and architectural trickery, I tended to mistake uphill for downhill and vice versa. Fourth reason: Inexperience with real golf. I hate to say it -- this column, after all, is about the Joy of Practice -- but I've been spending too much time on the range. I hadn't played an actual round of golf since my windy outing at Mauna Lani in January. So when I had a hanging lie for my first 90-yard approach shot, I hit it a hair right of the green and made 6. When I misclubbed myself on the downhill par-3 third, my shot that covered the flag all the way buried in the front bunker and I made 6. Hell, when I went into the halfway house and ordered a Sprite, they gave me a 6. But hey, I hit some super drives and a few good iron shots. As the pros say, "It's a fine line between shooting 69 and shooting 99." All right, the pros don't say that. I did get a compliment. One of my playing partners told me, "You've got a really good swing." That alone was worth the forty dollars I lost on our 5-5-10 Nassau, and it proved that I am progressing from obvious hacker who can't play golf to cunning POSEUR who can't play golf.
Watch this space for another installment of Mats Only. To send John Garrity advice, share your experiences or suggest a driving range, click here.
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