The Golf Lesson

So I had my golf lesson today. I have had 3 golf lessons in my entire life. The first was in July 2008. I had actually acquired a set of golf clubs in 2005 and spent several years futilely hacking away under the tutelage of my then-boyfriend (now husband). And I really mean hacking. I am surprised I didn’t hurt somebody with my terrible swing, which was better suited to harvesting corn than hitting a golf ball.

In 2008, when it became apparent that I probably would not have children and would need some other all-consuming occupation to pass the time, I decided to take my first golf lesson at Golf Galaxy, and it is then and there that I credit with my official learning of golf. Mike, the PGA instructor at Golf Galaxy, taught me the basic grip and mechanics of the weight shift from right foot to left which is the foundation of the golf swing.

I only had one more lesson with Mike that summer, since I was really impatient and generally view golf lessons with suspicion. I think of them like entering the military or psychoanalysis. They break you down in order to build you back up. The goal is to keep you as long as they can, so they string you along with medals or meager insights that will have you coming back for more. Plus, golf lessons are expensive and I just didn’t want to fork over any more dough at the time.  

Instead, after my two lessons with Mike, I learned from a multitude of free sources. I studied my husband’s copy of Tom Kite’s “How to Play Consistent Golf,” looked at slow-motion video clips of the golf swing that various people posted online, and made good use of the pause button on the DVR whenever a women’s golf tournament happened to air on TV. I also spent hours at the range, which did cost money, but no more than a bad Starbucks habit would. I also played a lot of golf with my husband, which nearly busted up our marriage, but that’s another story. (Remind me to tell you about the couple’s rules of golf sometime.) By 2009, I was driving up to 180 yards and shooting 100 to 115 in a typical round. I considered myself a double-bogey golfer.

Fast-forward a couple of years, skipping the one where I thought I would never pick up a club again and referred to golf as “a game I used to play.” It’s the last days of 2011 and here I am knocking at Mike’s door once again. I did have one lesson over the summer with a female coach in California, but it was a quickie and didn’t do much except leave me confused. She tried to change my grip and it didn’t take. I just couldn’t swing that way. I needed Mike.

I told him about my back injury and how I had lost so much distance. I showed him my swing with a 7-iron, which he recorded on video. Then he analyzed it, saying that what I was doing was actually putting more stress on my back. He pointed to the arch in my back and the extended right leg which made it look like I was chasing the ball. I explained that I was imitating the way the female pros finish their shots, almost like a ballerina doing an arabesque. I mean, just look at the LPGA logo with the swoosh of the back and leg. That’s the finish I was aiming for. I forgot why he said it was all wrong, but it was. Also, my stance was too wide and I was reaching forward too much with my arms. 

So he taught me some drills to correct these things. It's hard to explain in words. Let’s take it to the video of my lesson at Golf Galaxy:

To the casual observer, some of the changes may seem slight, but to me, they are massive. I was so excited by what Mike taught me that after my lesson, I headed straight to the driving range to test out how these new mechanics would work out in real life.

It was flurrying outside (it is December on the East Coast, after all), but I was undaunted. As I entered the driving range clubhouse to get some balls, the staffer said, “How’s it going? And by that I mean, are you crazy? It’s snowing!” Of course, he was joking. It was only in the low 40s and the range stalls have heaters. I live in a pretty golfy town, so there were at least 8 other hackers out there on the range, refusing to let the weather deter them.

How did I do with the new swing adjustments? Well, I still need to work on properly hinging my left wrist (or “wrist cock” as Mike put it, which just brings to my mind some kind of misfortunately placed genital deformity), but I think I am liking them. I actually feel I am using a lot less energy to generate the same distance. Who knows what can happen once I learn to use more energy in my new swing. Can't wait to hit the range again tomorrow!