The knack of throwing yourself at the ground...

...and missing.

Douglas Adams thus describes the art of flying in his Magnum Opus, the in-aptly named 5 book Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy trilogy (if I remember correctly it's in Life, the Universe and Everything although please don't leave angry comments if I'm wrong ;-). He goes on to detail how some flying clubs employ arrestingly attractive nude models or interesting conversationalists to distract the would-be flyer at the point where collision with terra firma appears inevitable.

It may seem odd that this came to me whilst pondering my last round of golf, but occur it did, and I'm going to use the rest of this post in an attempt to explain the relevance.

As I was returning from a break, I felt out of practice and thus didn't have the trust in my swing that had been there some two weeks previously. I'd even gone back to worrying about how the club face was positioned at address, with the result that it all looked strange no matter how I applied it. My playing partners commented on how I seemed to be thinking too much- an occupational hazard for those of us who paid to think. The corollary was that I was taking more time over the ball, leading to impatience around me. The time I take over the ball isn't an issue if I'm hitting it well, but if I'm not then it becomes a problem.

I wouldn't be worried if I took the maximum time allowed to enable me to hit the ball well; playing partners would just have to accept I was entitled to it. However, I'm increasingly coming to think that when I'm playing well I take the least time over the ball, and slowing down becomes part of the problem itself rather than a necessary part of the cure.

This has lead me to experiment whilst on holiday at my parents' house. Their lawn is large, and in poor condition due to lots of moss. This is great as it means they're unconcerned about how it looks after I've stayed (the moss is also springy enough to simulate coarse wet sand thus improving my bunker play ;-). Practicing chipping, I've come to realise that I perform my best when the shot routine is thus:

Stand behind ball, on ball target line to get sense of direction and identify target (& landing spot, as this is a chip, not such an issue for full shot as too far distant); take a clearing breath with eyes closed, open them at the end of exhalation whilst gripping the club. Then walk up to stance, keeping eyes on target. Set up for practice swing beside ball (as it's a short game shot, distance most important; for long game shot, it'd be behind ball on ball-target line as line most important) Swing eyes to where ball would be, start swing just after eyes alight there. Then set up behind ball with eyes on target, swing eyes back to ball and start swing just after they come to the ball.

Results with this have been fantastic on both line and length; I don't think it's accidental that this is also when my routine is at it's slickest. Or in other words:

It's vitally important that I start swinging my club before I have a chance to start thinking.

This way, all of my mind is filled with thoughts of the target and my body can get on with swinging the club at a brain stem/reflexive level, rather than under the clumsy auspices of conscious cerebral cortical control.

This may seem a rather convoluted way to realise that I need to feel the target and trust my body to swing, but it's the only way I've come to understand what I've read so many times before. It really is tricky to stop thinking when you're paid to think at work, and work in a job where a degree of neurosis is helpful, even essential. I often golf with fishermen who marvel at the knots my mind can tie itself in. This is my way around that.

The nice corollary is that, by improving my play by taking less time over the ball, I play faster for two reasons, making me a better golfer and better playing partner. Which can only be good.

This is how I can learn to throw myself at the ground...and miss.