FROM IN GOLF.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume 1, Issue 1, 1 October 1899, Page 74

FROM IN GOLF.

By C. E. S. Gillies.

sjj!jlp|j|fY form in golf, I mean a man's l^Mlial s tyle °^ P^ a y> an<^ ex tent to (wnS^J 1 which he conforms to the fundamental principles of the game, and not the "form" referred to when we ask a stranger what his form is. In the latter case we are asking him briefly, and in golfing language, what is his recognised status as a golfer in his own club, or in reference to some recognised standard. We cannot say a beginner has any form at all. His golf is a mere series of spasmodic attempts, but gradually he begins to acquire what we call form, and approaches the stage when he can be considered a golfer. He may never acquire sufficient accuracy or brilliancy to become a scratch player, or even to reduce his handicap to single figures, but nevertheless, he has acquired some sort of form which is recognised as his own, and which gives him his own little niche in the club handicap list, whether it be near the top or the bottom. He is then a golfer. Every beginner should endeavour to acquire a sound style of play, for only by careful, but not slavish, adherence to the principles of the awing can he hope, after many months of play, to acquire a high class form. Style is a detail of form, and if the beginner dovelopes a poor style of form, he will never get beyond a certain stage, andthere is only one hope for the aspirant who has reached the limit of his form, viz., to give up his old form, and acquire a new and better style' — a most difficult matter. * Given a fair eye and a good physique, there is no reason to prevent a man becoming

a good player, though, in golf, few men after twenty-five can acquire high class form. The exceptions ai*e only those talented few, who from a wonderful natural endowment, seem able to play any game well. The best players are also the most natural. Though I nothing can compensate for hard practice, the quickest and surest way to progress at the royal and ancient game is to thoroughly j grasp the idea of a true mechanical style. But, says your beginner, what is the true style ? To that you can only answer, there ; is no one style that can be said to be the only [ true one. Take a few of the finest profes- I sionals, and you will find that they all differ j; in various ways from each other, even to the | extent of playing an entirely different stroke |' for the same distance. Your bewildered j beginner probably fails to note that the < essential principles of golf in each man's j, game are however, the same. The adoption |. of a slavish adherence to a particular style, k or to the recognised maxims of the game, is k often a stumbling block. | The great thing for the beginner is to get | a true idea of the underlying principles of a | good style of game. He must then work 1 out his own individual style for himself, and I keep rigidly to it. His position and style of | play must crystallize on to a model, probably ffi a compound of several styles of play, but it «< is his own, and he must keep to it with I ; unfailing adherence. It is absolutely fatal f to be chopping and changing in the endeavour / to copy a better player. ; l <* He should endeavour so to learn, that he 4 has not to unlearn. A very common and 1

deadly sin is that of playing for the win of the present, instead of risking present defeat for the sake of a future gain. A player who plays only for the present, will retain his present form to the end, while he who is constantly trying to play a higher standard of game has the only chance of improvement. Golf is very like its indoor brother, billiards, in that it is essentially a mechanical game, and because the mechanical part of it is so important, nothing can take the place of continual practice on right lines. I may here remark, that I consider the most valuable practice to be that of taking out say a dozen balls into a field, and learning to play them at varying distances. An hour spent thus will improve a beginner more than four or five hoars spent in struggling round the links, yet how few men will go and do what is "the scales and exercises " of golf, when they can get any sort of a round ? A very fine golfer remarked to me that his game had recently improved very considerably, in that, though he could not play any particular stroke better, he felt his play, (to use his own expression) had become "machiney." He was quite right, he had dropped into the machine-like accuracy of the professional, and in consequence his game had become much more deadly. His constant striving after a better form had at last borne fruit in that, while still retaining his old brilliancy, he had acquired that accuracy of play which is the only mark of the line between first and second-rate players. There are, I think, three elements which go to make up form in golf, execution, judgment, and temperament. Golf from one point of view, that of execution, is an almost purely mechanical game. Accuracy of play is dependant on mechanical uniformity in carrying out the players mental grasp of the stroke before him. There is a correct stroke for each

distance, and the desired result is obtained, not by putting more or less of force into the stroke, but by playing the true mechanical stroke for that distance, and for this, groat accuracy in striking is necessary. Then comes the element of judgment in the calculation of distance, of the nature of the ground, and of the difficulties to bo surmounted. Faulty judgment can never bo atoned for by correctness of style. It is I believe the fineness of a player's judgmont and his temperament that causes some professionals to stand ahead of othors who perhaps play a more perfect mechanical game. To judgment must be added temperament, a very great determining quality of a man's game. We find brilliant, mercurial players who play splendidly to-day and wretchedly to-morrow, easy-going players, over-anxious players, players who start beaten, playors who continually blame their luck, and grizzle over every little annoyance, and many others. In fact, men's temperaments in golf are as various as the men themselves, but it is the dour determined golfer who is bound to como out on top of his brilliant light-hoiirted comrade. It is an extremely difficult matter to define what "form in golf" really is, though we are all conscious that it exists, and can instantly recognise it when we see it. I have endeavoured to show its nature, and how to acquire it, but I. should say to every golfer, play the game in the fine spirit in which it should be played, and whatevor be your form, good, bad or indifferent, you will make an enjoyable companion in tho brotherhood of golfers. The traditions of golf are, and ever have been, most honourable. The game itself is absolutely dependent on honour, and is one whose charm largely depends on its being played in that fine sportsmanlike spirit without which no game is worth anything.