TOO MANY CLUBS

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXIV, 20 June 1931, Page 10

TOO MANY CLUBS

I MAKING GOLF DIFFICULT (By Harry Yardon, Six Times Open ! Champion) (Specially written for ‘The Mail”) ) There ear. he no doubt that a great many golfers try to be a master of too many dubs. It is an increasing disposition lo carry a set of graduated irons whose distinctions of loft are so line that they cannot do other than produce confusion in the mind of tlie ordinary player. The truth is that often lie doe's not know which to take, because lie lacks tlie inborn gift of judging distances, and, being in doubt, lie never settles down to accomplish the stroke properly. As for tlie first-class goner, lie lias no need of such 'icencc. an I wont i make the game heft or by doing witiioiu' ii

The development is of latter-day origin, and 1 am certain that, tlie standard of skill lias not improved one jot as a result of it. Indeed, to most of its devotees, the fashion lias probably been a handicap rather than a help, because they have not given themselves To chance to becone inas'.?r of any shot in particular. It is no uncommon tiling at the championships to see players equipped with about, twenty clubs. 1 think Horton Smith, the young American professional, likes to ha\ e a rather larger number.

He is so essentially a natural golfer, possessed of every attribute that mortal could desire in physique, temperament and ability, that I really believe he would fare even better with half the number, for then he would know exactly what each was capable of doing. There must obviously be a stage at which the mere magnitude of the kit begins to create confusion of thought. If if, possessed any virtue as an aid to success, it would have been exploited long ago. Many a golfer would have taken fifty clubs round with him if he had been able to see in this multiplicity any hope of equalling the bogey score 1 for the course, let alone winning a championship.

HUMAN LIMITS Mr Max Belir, the American player, who lias a more profound knowledge of golf through the ages than anybody else since the Jays of Mr John L. Low, was once at pains to prove that the standard of skill lias not improved one iota during three generations. He did it by comparing the scores accomplished in these respective generations' with the par figures for the courses, which varied in different eras according to the ball in use—first the feather-stuffed ball, then the solid gut-ta-percha ball, and, in later days, ihe all responsive rubber-cored ball. His calculations presented (lie conclusion that the men of the “gutty” age had done best.

I do not know about this, but it is at least a feasible proposition that in such a. game as golf, which simply calls upon its votary to get the ball into the hole in the fewest possible strokes, tlie people of a hundred years ago discovered as good a way as any that has since been evolved.

History in every .walk of life goes to show that their standard of intelligence and enterprise was not one whit less than that of the present period. The only progress has been in the direction of slowly expanding invention made possible I v new material and machinery. I sec no reason to doubt the deduction that, in tlie art of hitting the ball accurately, the golfers of the past were as skilful as those of to-day. And they certainly achieved their end with far less fuss and variety of armament than many of their successors are wont to affect.

I remember Mr William Greig, of St. Andrews, who used to beat all sorts of notables in the amateur championship (including even Mr F. G. Tait, twice winner of that event) with a meek collection of five clubs, carried by his daughter. Ever, in this generation, the small ikit has soared to the highest triumphs.

Edward Ray, the last British player to win the open championships of both America and this country, would have difficulty in making up a set of ten necessary clubs. In truth, he has established his reputation with live—driver, deck, mid-iron, niblick and putter. I doubt whether he ever used any other in securing his championships on both sides of the Atlantic. At my best, I was content with eleven, and James Baird only carried thirteen because lie regarded it as ins lucky number.

MECHANICAL AND SLOW

One of the worst features of the gigantic equipment is that it causes a slow-ing-down of the play. It is the main reason, I believe, that the rounds in the championship now take from half an hour to an hour longer than they used to do. The judgment of distance is supposed f,o be no longer an art. It is a mathematical problem, relating solely to irons that are numbered 1,2 3,4, and so on. according to their degree of loft. Consequently, the player considers not how he shall swing the club to obtain the distance. The swing is the same for them all. He has to decide which of the many clubs will produce the desired effect- mechanically if he swings it mechanically. He ponders long and changes his mind frequently. Perhaps the next step will be the introduction of an instrument like a range-finder for gauging the distance scientifically down to the last yard, after which the player will merely search in his bag for the iron marked for the distance. But the fact is that these endeavours to make the game easy overlook tlie human factor, which cannot bo mechanised.

Indeed, the simplest way to make it approach that condition would be to reduce tile number of clubs. It would be an excellent thing to have a tournament among first-class golfers in which each had to use no more Ilian four or five clubs. I believe that the results would be as good as with an unlimited outfit.