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THE ROYAL AND ANTIENT GAME OF GOLF

It is said that golf is more than half mental. This was surely the ease

(“Chipshot” remarks) with Leo Quin in the amateur championship, when he t ?°k., a c * ee k to beep straight at “ Hillside,” and did the very thing for fear of which he eschewed his wood. Moreover, he did it twice. The first time was the more disastrous in itself, but the second time his second shot perpetuated the error. On the first occasion the hunt for the ball had not long proceeded when one was discovered in a tussock, quite a harmless lie. but, alas! it was not Quin’s, whose ball lay beneath a heap of cut brush, buried more, thoroughly than a puma's kill. Quin is a long hitter, and he argued, “ Why take a driver and a mashie when you can get there safely with two irons?”

The professionals were all at sea at Seafield for a day or so, because the greens were merely part of the ordinary turf, none the worse for that, but almost indistinguishable from the rest of the course save for the flag. This made the judgment of distances quite a problem to-, everybody. There were few junkers to mark out the position of the green, and in the circumstances those who played long irons to the pin had nothing but the pin to guide them. A little local knowledge made all the difference. It was interesting at Miramar. in the early stages of the tournament, to note how the old hands from other clubs frequently consulted their cards. Knowing the approximate length of their satisfactory tee shots, they could do a simple mental sum and say, “The green is 150yds away.” There is no doubt that it paid.

How many golfers can lay an intentional stymie? It is quite hard enough to sink a ten-foot putt, or even a fivefoot one. but in this case a properly struck ball will go down, even though it has a foot or more of run left in it when it strikes the cup. To lay a stymie of intent, it is necessary to gauge the exact run of the ball —that is, of course, provided that the direction is more or less definitely at an angle with the opponent’s next shot. There is no doubt that it can be done, and that it is done, intentionally. It would be bad play to general a putt

otherwise than so that if it missed the hole it would stymie the opponent, if possible; but the stymie must always remain a second-rate possibility, as it were, because sinking the ball is the main object. Old and experienced golfers give a good deal of study to the possibilities of stymieing an opponent when putting, and also to the playing of stymies themselves, but most of them pray that the ball should go down.

The Australian golfers who have been visiting the Dominion were agreeably surprised at the standard of golf in New Zealand. They stated that they did not expect to see such good play, especially among the colts. Mr J. X. Miller, of the Australian Golf Club, Sydney, made some interesting comments about professionals. He said that Australian clubs did their best to offer good prize money to professional players. It was realised that professionals meant much to amateur golf, and they were encouraged. “If you have an amateur playing against a good professional, he will rise to unusual heights,” stated Mr Miller. Speaking of the visits of English professionals, Mr Miller, who has seen golf plaved in England, said he did not think any first-class professional could be induced to come to Australia or Xew Zealand for coaching purposes. If sufficient inducement were offered, however, thev would play exhibition matches. This would be valuable for the game in both countries.

Municipal golf in Sydney has assumed such widespread proportions that the authorities will shortly find it necessary to establish new links to absorb the huge army of players, says a Sydney paper. The scene at Moore Park links on any Sunday morning is depressing in the extreme. Golf is supposed to be an easy going, pleasurable pastime, in which the player, calmly executing his shots, may obtain invigorating enjoyment from his round. Not so at Moore Park. It is a common experience for visitors to spend from two to three hours cooling their heels

on the first tee at these links before they enjoy the privilege of hitting off. They then set off at a half-canter for the first green. Ilalf-an-hour’s wait on the second tec follows. Delay on every other tee is so disastrous to the player’s card that he invariably destroys it before he is half-way round the course, bitterly declaring that he will never visit the links again.

Until toward the latter part of 1919, Leo Quin, of Eltham, whom Arthur Duncan defeated in the final for this

year's amateur championship, knew nothing at all about golf. That year a club was started in Eltham, and it hired portion of Mr Quin’s farm for use as links. The Quin boys were rather amused when the golfers invaded their peaceful farm, clad in plus fours and armed with weird-looking implements. It was not long, however, before the Quin boys decided to have

a shot at this funny game of golf. From the moment they took a club in their hands that was the end of them. Golf had them under its magic spell. In five years’ time Leo Quin was amateur golfing champion of New Zealand. winning the title from J. Goss, of Wanganui, the holder, at Auckland in 1921.

“Golf is an easy game; easy in the sense that there is not a great deal of sheer strength demanded to get the ball quite a reasonable distance,” says Abe Mitchell. “A little force or power properly applied should be the great idea. When we hit hard, too often does a drive not go so far as one in which we do not seem to have put any power at all. In that respect the easy power which is seen in the swing

of Bobby Jones, the famous American amateur, was an object lesson to all who saw him when he was in England. Ev£rv one remarked: ‘Flow easy he plays.’ But he has wonderful rhythm without any force. lie brings this ease even on to the putting green. With him there is no sudden jerk of the putter, and only when the ball was lying in the rough could he be said to have exerted his strength.”

“One cannot help observing that in the last few years, in the period when the Americans have made a determined onslaught on the British championship, our players have worked themselves into such a state of alarm that they have been quite unable to do their golf justice,” says the golf correspondent of the “Observer.” “It is always easy to be wise after the event, but it did not need a .Sherlock Holmes to divine that Mitchell did a most foolish thing in consenting to play Ilagen before the championship. For a highly sensitive and nervous subject like Mitchell, the strain was so great that it was bound to bring about a most serious reaction. For some little time Mitchell has been under treatment at a well-known inland resort, and I understand that he has derived much benefit. Anj'how, he is not likely to engage in any more matches with Ilagen for some little time.”

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TS19261119.2.42

Bibliographic details

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18008, 19 November 1926, Page 4

Word Count
1,259

THE ROYAL AND ANTIENT GAME OF GOLF Star (Christchurch), Issue 18008, 19 November 1926, Page 4

THE ROYAL AND ANTIENT GAME OF GOLF Star (Christchurch), Issue 18008, 19 November 1926, Page 4