GOLF.

Press, Volume LIX, Issue 17691, 17 February 1923, Page 11

GOLF.

•—«— GETTING READY FOR THE GAME. TRAINING AND PRACTICE. (spbciaixt warms job "th» razsa.") <By Harry Vardon.) In travelling about Britain one is presented repeatedly with an expression of opinion which runs something on these lines:—"No wonder the Americans beat us at €olfl Look at the way they train for it I Their leading golfers prepare for championships just as their great runners and jumpers do for track and field athletics. And other things being equal, the better,trained men are sure to win." Now I am inclined to think that the impression which has gained ground in Britain as to the assiduity with which American golfers engage in physical exercises, have their muscles massaged, receive a rub-down after every round and do various other things in order to promote efficiency on the links, is mostly a myth. At any rate I have come into contact with very little of it during my tours of the United States. In point of fact, there is nothing very extraordinary about the way in which American champions make' ready. And I am certain that training of tne kind to which boxers and runners subject themselves is unnecessary for golf. It is worse tn&n unnecessary; it is a downrignt disauvan&age. Ine man who plays toif two or tnree times a week wains as far as the average athlete in his course of preparation — every time he has two rounds, he tramps appAjymately seven miles — and as regards other physical exercises, tne swinging of the club provides exactly the kind of muscular exertion that he needs. My own experience tells me that there are certain muscles which play a more prominent part than _ otliers in the execution of golf snots, .and that their perfect condition for golf is cultivated only by playing golf. They have to be strong, healthy and supple —not developed on abnormal lines. I am convinced that exercises with Indian clubs and dumb bells are not for the *good of the golfer, because they disturb the condition of his golfing muscles. After a long spell of digging in the garden, I have found my swing utterly out of order because of the disarrangement of these golfing muscles. , A 1914 Eebel. Somebody has said that golf is "nine-tenths mental." The estimate is not far wrong. For that reason, training which involves a compliance with regulations that are irksome is apt to be a bane rather than a blessing to your game. For this game you need above all things to be in a tranquil frame of mind. To keep reasonable hours and observe a reasonable diet are obviously advisable tendencies, just as in any circumstances of life. But if you start worrying about following a certain mode of living—as, forexample going to bed at. 10 o'clock when you would rather etay up another hour—the chances are that yon will worry out of yourself all the faith that ever you possessed to play a powerful and natural round of golf. For one thing, you may not sleep haft the night for thinking of the importance of your regime. I had an experience of this in 1914. For some time, I had been undergoing electrical treatment, and when I went north several weeks before the open championship at the doctor gave me a. diet-list to observe stringently. I was to have apples for breakfast, chicken for lunch and the lightest of light meal —if any—at night. I have no doubt that his advice, which I followed rigorously, helped me.. Indeed, after a while, it must have made me terribly fit; for I became rebellious. I was' not playing at all well, so I wrote to him and said that I wanted a cut of beef as a change from chicken, that I felt harassed by She limitation of dishes, that I just wanted to be like other human beings. He did not reply, so I went on with the rebellion. And, at any rate, I began to play better, from that day, and won the championship. . ■--• Such is the advantage of mental peace. Naturally, I had taken great care to keep fit even when, as a sheer desperado, I started eating a little beef, the benefit was in doing what made be feel tranquil. By the same token I pursued an entirely different course when I won the open championship at Prestwick in 1903. At that time, I was in the throes of a rather wretched illness. I felt that I wanted very little to eat, and so I ate little. Each night I had a glass of stout at eight o'clock and went to bed. Smoking on the Links. Once I did give up my pipe for a whole month before the championship. That was in 1909, and as I won that year at Sandwich, the moral of this story of the harassing effects of very strict training may not be perfect. Still, I think that smoking—even while you are playing—is far from being a handicap. It helps to soothe the nerves. That may be a commonplace remark, but it is a true one. For years I refrained from smoking when playing in tournaments or exhibition matches because I thought that It did not look altogether in Keeping with the dignity of the game. I began smoking while playing during my tour in the United States in 1913, and it has clung "to me since. ~T~have only a dilettantish interest in cigarettes, but a pipe in the round is a real friend. Moderation in one's manner of living is naturally essential to fitness, but as regards actually training for golf, I think there is nothing better than play- [ ing golf —just enough of it, and not too much. Jimmy Wilde, the famous boxer, once told me that rounds of the links constituted half of his process of getting fit for a big fight.

There is one important matter to which, I think, the young British players of to-day pay scarcely the attention that it deserves. I am not sure that they do sufficient practising—that is, going out with one or two clubs to try certain shots. I know that so far as concerns professionals, there are many lessons to be given, and that they occupy a lot of time. Often you will hear a young professional of'promise say: "I haven't half-an-hour to devote to practice. I'm teaching all day." I know, too, that often members want to take the professional out to play a round, and that it is difficult for him to refuse. My observations lead me to think, too, that often he would much rather go out and play a round than give the time to solo practice. Whatever may be the difficulties in the way of obtaining practice, the rising player will never regret putting himself out to overcome them, if only to go out for a quarter of an hour two or three times a day to study certain shots and probe their secrets. There always have been obstacles. In my young days it was part of my contract with the Bury Club that until 4 p.m. each day I should devote all my time to the upkeep of the course and play only after that hour. If there be only ten minutes to spare it is good to take out a club and a ball and practice shots.