Yips or the yips is the loss of fine motor skills in athletes. The condition occurs suddenly and without apparent explanation usually in mature athletes with years of experience. It is poorly understood and has no known treatment or therapy. Athletes affected by the yips sometimes recover their ability, which may require a changing technique. Many are forced to abandon their sport at the highest level.
The yips manifest themselves as twitches, staggers, jitters and jerks. The condition occurs most often in sports which athletes are required to perform a single precise and well timed action such as golf and darts. The condition is also experienced by bowlers in cricket and pitchers in baseball.
In golf, the yips is a movement disorder known to interfere with putting. The term yips is said to have been popularized by Tommy Armour—a golf champion and later golf teacher—to explain the difficulties that led him to abandon tournament play. In describing the yips, golfers have used terms such as twitches, staggers, jitters and jerks. The yips affects between one-quarter and one-half of all mature golfers. Researchers at the Mayo Clinic found that 33 percent to 48 percent of all serious golfers have experienced the yips. Golfers who have played for more than 25 years appear to be most prone to the condition.
The Cadwal Chronicles are a trilogy of science fiction novels by American writer Jack Vance set in his Gaean Reach fictional universe. The three novels are called Araminta Station (1987), Ecce and Old Earth (1991) and Throy (1992).
Cadwal is a planet discovered by an explorer who is a member of the "Naturalist Society of Earth". The society decides to preserve Cadwal as a nature preserve and sets up a Conservancy based on a Charter. The Charter forbids mining and other exploitation, and permits strictly limited settlement. Only six "Agents", each in charge of a bureau with a staff of 20 men and 20 women, are allowed to reside permanently on the planet to enforce the Charter, although tourists are allowed in specially designed lodges, overlooking sites of natural beauty and interest.
From the earliest days, the Agents recruited relatives and close associates for their staffs, but as their numbers eventually exceeded the Charter limits, the excess remained on Cadwal as "collaterals" under the transparent fiction of being "temporary" labor. At their 16th birthday, each person learns their "index number", indicating their genealogical rank. A person whose index number is 20 or less upon their 21st birthday is granted Agency status; all others become lesser-status collaterals. Many collaterals choose to leave Cadwal to seek their fortune elsewhere in the Gaean Reach. Thus, the society of Cadwal is a highly stratified aristocracy, where success depends on birth as much as aptitude.
Laughter from Esharra is convincing, but unclaimed.
The last of Ka drifts across the river
- Our sky outside has not been named.
Two Ugalla-demons start their battle
- Tempest of the creek is floored in flames.
Winds of Imhullu foretold their weather
- Sea-dwelling floods reply without names.
Taste the salty tides of the Apzu
- Alight seven tablets wearing steel of lame.
Laughter from Esharra is convincing, but unclaimed.
6000 years past away to let the Utu tribes
hear the lying words against Azzta's truth.
Ea's eye is the way...
We are the ones who know the mountain passes,
and we'll search the battlefields,
in order to find the essential weapons corroded within the tan dust.
Marduk, Anu, Ellil, and Ea watch us all to test our bold and drastic strength,
so Tiamat sneers with the hate and commands the storm-chariot of the horses.
Their teeth and heart carry poison to strike us down,
but cannot fill our veins with venom.
We warned you twice:
"We Command The Mushussu!"
"Sharp Of Tooth And Strike Of Fang!"
"Horned Serpent Of The Unclaimed!"
"Shine!"
Make a path, fix the hour, and raise the seed
The dragon's semen is what you drink to be crowned by night
"Belet-ili, O great pythoness, kiss me!"
"Belet-ili, O great pythoness, kiss me!"
With the billowing fog, the abyss speaks below
Your wings of force cannot warp you through the times
"Belet-ili, O great pythoness, caress me!"
"Belet-ili, O great pythoness, caress me!"
In the ninth aeon, Esharra ceases the laughter
Then, Imhulla assembles the blazing cycllone
"Belet-ili, O great pythoness, embrace me!"
"Belet-ili, O great pythoness, embrace me!"
Now you are spiritually drunk from the dragon's semen,
So set your arrow in the bow and coat it with the poison
"Belet-ili, O great pythoness, clutch me!"
"Belet-ili, O great pythoness, clutch me!"