Timing & Tempo

The reason the vast majority of golfers have such trouble timing a shot satisfactorily is that, subconsciously or consciously, they try to regulate the speed of the club head directly with their hands, without using the intermediary links of the hips, shoulders, and arms. When they do this they get an early but never very great reaction, in terms of speed, from the club head.

This is the old familiar “hitting too soon” or “hitting from the top.” When the intermediary links are used and the chain reaction is allowed to take its course, there is a late reaction by the club head, which then accelerates to great speed at impact. There is a common expression to describe the player who uses the chain reaction: “He waits on the club.” It may not be grammatical but it is descriptive.

What this all comes down to is, the expression of good timing is the late hit. The expression of poor timing is the early hit.Here, as we discuss timing, we isolate one key move that leads to good or improved timing. It is this: Let the body—not the hands—start moving the club on the downswing.

Once you can do this you are on the road to vastly better golf. You will have the feeling that you are starting down with arms and club close to the body—close to the axis— where they should be at this time.

So much has been written over the years about the importance of the hands in swinging the club, that many of us are entirely too hand conscious. A standing vote of thanks is due Bill Casper for stating, in a description of his swing as it reached the hitting position: “At this point my body is still swinging the club.” Many of us have been sure of that for years, but Casper, to our knowledge, was the first of the top tournament pros with the courage to say it.

The hands will take over soon enough, as an automatic, reflex action. The problem is to keep them out while still keeping them moving. If we keep them out while our body moves the club from the top, our timing will be far better.

Rhythm and Tempo

Rhythm and tempo can be considered together, because in golf they mean very nearly the same thing.

We mentioned earlier that the rhythm in the swing of a good player is noticed because of the measured cadence in the upward and downward movement of the club. In his swing there appears to be—and there is—a definite relationship in time between his backswing and his downswing. It is measured in two parts, from the time the club leaves the ball until it stops at the top of the backswing, and from the time it starts to move again until it hits the ball. The club does have to stop at the top, of course, for the instant required to reverse its direction, whether we feel it or realize it or we don’t. No object, not even a golf club, can be traveling in opposite directions at once.

These two segments of the swing can be accurately timed by a motion-picture camera, by the simple process of counting the number of pictures the camera takes during each segment. Such a count shows that the backswing of a good player takes almost exactly twice as long as the downswing.

This two-to-one ratio is the rhythm of the swing. The total time or tempo of the swing will vary with different good players, but the ratio or rhythm will not. Nor will it

 

vary from club to club. The ratio will be the same for the 8 iron as it is for the driver. The tempo of the swing will not change, either, for the individual player.

Golf Thinking Your Way Around The Course

The physical actions of golf, the positions and movements of our hands, our feet, our bodies, our arms, and of the club itself are all important to master and the golfer will gain a great deal as he or she improves upon these aspects of golf.

There is another side of golf, though, that is all too frequently overlooked in our sometimes frantic efforts to master the swing. This is the mental or thinking side of the game. Happily, this is not nearly so difficult to master as the rest.

Basically, the thinking side of the game is the exercise of common sense, by which we give ourselves the best possible chance on every shot we undertake, adapting ourselves to the elements of wind, weather, and terrain, using our clubs to their fullest capabilities. We plan how we are going to play each shot, how we are going to position ourselves and our ball to play each hole.

The more talented or expert a player is, the more likely he is to carry out his plans. He has the ability to make the ball do, most of the time, what he wants it to do, within varying limits. The poorer player does not have this fine control of the ball, and he does not hit it so far, but he should plan every shot and every hole. He will not be able to carry out his plans as often as the good player, but when he does, they will save him strokes, and obviously the poorer player should overlook no opportunity whatever to reduce his shots.

The playing of a round of golf is a long succession of decisions on what to do, followed by the physical action of carrying them out. The physical action may be good but may fall short of success if the decision is wrong. For instance, having hit a fine drive, you decide the 8 iron will carry the trap and put your ball on the green.

You hit the iron perfectly—and drop the ball into the trap. The execution was faultless but the decision was wrong. You should have used your 7.

The selection of clubs, though, is only one area of the thinking department. A larger area is the planning of a shot to avoid trouble. This is, in a sense, a negative or defensive type of thinking, but it is extremely important. There are players who glory in playing everything boldly, in taking all manner of chances, and in scorning caution in themselves or anyone else.

But when you stop to think of it, what chance does the poor player or the average player or even the pretty good player have of beating the golf course? He is one poorly to moderately well equipped individual, pitted against more than six thousand yards of rolling country, studded with both natural and man-made hazards. For him to think he can beat this enemy is asinine. The course has all the advantages. The only sane attitude for any ordinary player to adopt is the defensive one, charting his way around or over the lurking dangers (thumbing his nose at them as he goes, perhaps), but at all costs avoiding them.

The besetting sin, the fatal flaw, if you will, in the poor or average golfer, is attempting too much. He gambles, on a decision born of sheer hope, that he will make a great shot from a poor position when the odds are heavy that he would not make nearly as good a shot from a perfect position. He takes a 5 iron when he knows he should take a 4, because the others in the foursome are using 5’s. He attempts to carry a trap from the tee when he knows in his heart that only a perfect shot, which he rarely hits, will get him over it. He tries to get distance from the rough when all he should try to do is just get out. In short, hope and pride—and apparently a belief in miracles—cause the average player to attempt too much. By trying to beat the course to its knees when he should only be out boxing it, the typical player loses strokes.

Golf Secrets Of Timing

Whenever we go to a golf tournament and see a really good player hit the ball, we receive two vivid impressions. The first is how far the ball goes with seemingly so little effort. The second is of a certain measured cadence in the upward and downward movement of the club. Both are accurate impressions.

 

Now if we happen to be on the practice tee, where we can watch this player hit shot after shot, we will notice two other things. One is that he swings all his clubs at about the same speed; he doesn’t seem to hit the 3 wood any harder than he hits the 7 iron. The second thing we notice, when we let our gaze wander to other players practicing, is that while most of them are deliberate, there are differences in their swinging speeds.

 

Timing is the answer to the first accomplishment—the long hit with little effort. Rhythm produces the measured cadence in the upward and downward movement of the club. And the differences we notice in swinging speed among other players are differences in tempo.

 

Nearly all good players will give us impressions of timing and rhythm. The more graceful the player, the more vivid the impression will be. Sam Snead, among the moderns, is the perfect example. Among the giants of the past, Bob Jones’s swing was once called the “poetry of motion,” and the late Macdonald Smith was probably the most effortless swinger who ever played the game. The players of today swing harder at the ball than did their predecessors, with the result that theirs is more of a hitting than a swinging action.

 

Yet the ball still flies out much farther than it should, for the effort the player seems to be putting into it. This is very marked in the graceful players of smaller stature, such as Gene Littler, 1961 National Open champion, and Dow Finsterwald, former National PGA champion.

 

Timing

The answer to the effort-distance puzzle being timing, just what is timing? For one thing, it is a word that has been used more loosely, perhaps, than any other in golf literature. We have been blandly told that we should work to improve our timing, that our timing is off, that without good timing we cannot hope to play well. But there, having given the word the once-over-lightly treatment, the oracles have left us. They have never adequately explained timing or told us what we should do to improve ours. Our private guess is that they don’t know themselves what it is.

A dictionary will tell you that timing is: “The regulating of the speed of a motion, stroke, or blow, so that it reaches its maximum at the correct moment.” In golf, obviously, this would mean regulating the speed of the club head so as to cause it to reach its maximum as it hits the ball.

 

The key phrase is “regulating of the speed.” The better the speed is regulated, the better the timing; the poorer the regulation, the poorer the timing. It is here that at least 95 per cent of all golfers have their worst trouble.

 

They have it because the regulation of the speed depends not on how the club head is manipulated by the hands but on how and when other parts of the swinging system operate: the hips, the shoulders, the arms, the hands. If these move in the right way and in the right order, they will automatically regulate the speed of the club head so that it reaches its maximum as it hits the ball. It is, in effect, a chain reaction of movement, with the club head getting the final effect.

 

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