THE "PRO."

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 111, 13 May 1925, Page 9

THE "PRO."

A VERY TOLERANT MAN. GOLF HIS LIFE WORK. A PEEP AT HIS SCHOOL. Wonderfully tolerant is the "pro." Though his heart must almost break— though he must sull'er as much pain ns if he were struck with a driver—when raw amateurs slice and slash, fozzle, and strike all manner of un-Grecian like attitudes, he bears it all with fortitude. He restrains his feelings with restraint born of years of experience. He is a martyr, and the symbol of his martyrdom is a hopeless amateur, murdering an easy ball with a mashie. The "pro" sees every species of golfer and would-be golfer imaginable. He has transported the game of golf right into the heart of the city, for his "school" is in a building overlooking our main street. His "course" is one corner of the room, netted in on three sides. His "tec" is an ordinary mat, and his "putting green" is made of canvas. Three Classes of Pupils. His pupils may be divided, roughly, into three classes —good, promising, and hopeless. When a good pupil comes to him for a lesson, the "pro's" eves sparkle with anticipation—the pupil i« after his own heart. (In the arrival of a "promiser" the "pro" is almost as enthusiastic, but when a "hopeless" puts in an appearance his eyes grow dull, although the rest of him appears natural enough to the casual observer. But, somehow, he gives his exhibition drives listlessly and his putting, accurate though it is, seems heartless—the ball appears to roll towards the hole reluctantly. But, as we have said before, the "pro" is a tolerant man. He has to be. The "Pro" is Happy. It is great to see the "pro" at work. At the present time, he has a young lady enthusiast on the "tee." She is a "gooder," and the "pro" is quite happy. He dreams of the day when she will have reached that sublime golfing stage known as "golf-mad." He gives his instructions with zest. He talks rapidly of hips and arms, eyes and heels, holds, balls, and objectives. He "fine-fines" when the young lady plays a really beautiful shot, and "tut-tuts" good naturedly when she sends a bundle of bristles from his mat, living into the air. "Keep your head straight—ah! that's it —see the difference it makes. Draw in the elbow—further—that's it—oh! hard luck! Try again. Ah, now you've got it— see the idea now': But steady, steady! — what about that heel': —wonderful" the force you can get behind a drive if you let your heel up properly. Ob, that's it, that's it—if you can cultivate that stroke, Miss, you'll be as safe as houses." With the Mashie. "Let's try a mashie now," says the "pro," handling one lovingly, after the young lady has sent ball after ball into the net. ''You say you can't control a mashie. eh? Well, we'll soon settle that. Ah—l thought so—look how you're holding it—that's -why you can't control it. Now watch t'hij hold(whizz!) —you see how the arm . . . ." And so he goes on, instructing, cautioning, encouraging. He likes the young lady's style—yes, she's a line stylist— a born golfer. Later on, "she'll hold her own with any of them," the great "pro" has spoken. The Pro's Ideals. The "pro" is profoundly sorry when his fair pupil's time is up. His next pupil on the "course" will be a "hopeless"—a young man "hopeless." Probable he has him in mind, when he mentions that golf is the most deceiving game in the world. It deceives those who can play, just as it deceives those who can't. Hut the "pro" who teaches everything but the "language" of the game—and that comes naturally— endeavours to wipe away some of the disillusionment. He tries "to show everyone, good, promising and hopeless, some of the fine points that make him take up clubs and ball as his life's interest. He is a "champion" of the game in every sense of the word. The "pro" is a remarkable man. Amongst those whom he has helped out of the bunkers on to the fairways, thus making their lives worth living, his name is called blessed. He hates to see anyone, even "hopeless,'" stymied. Wonderfully tolerant is the "pro."" Golf itself has taught him to be.