The Three Principles of Outstanding Golf: How A Golfer's Mind Really Works.

Acknowledgements

There are several people without whom you would not be reading these words.

Jamie Smart and Garret Kramer, who pointed me to a new way of seeing the world, and a new way of playing the game I had fallen in and out of love with over the past thirty years.

Elsie Spittle, for her recollections of her friendship with Syd Banks, and her kind words of encouragement.

Alistair Tait, who edited the book, tightened and brightened my paragraphs, activated my passive sentences and specified my non-specific pronouns.

Julia Jarman, a far better writer than I will ever be. Her love of books and the written word was a constant theme throughout my childhood. She was clearly more of an inspiration than I realised at the time.

My girlfriend Fenella, for her love and support, proof reading skills and the regular supply of coffee and the odd beer.

Mike Snapes, Andy Pollock, Adam Jerreat, Gerry Kennedy and numerous others who offered comments, feedback and encouragement during the writing process.

David Cowap for his help with the cover design and typesetting.

My friends, lesson clients and fellow golfers at Woburn and elsewhere, for your friendship, feedback, support and companionship on and off the golf course. I have learnt as much from you as you have from me. Hopefully we are all better golfers and will continue to improve.

Lastly to Sydney Banks, who saw what he saw, and wasn’t afraid to tell the world about it.

Foreword

It is rare these days that I come across a golf coaching book that holds my attention from start to finish.

It is also rare to find a book about the mind written by someone who is genuinely at the ‘coal face’ of both playing and coaching as opposed to classroom theory. Sam has written such a book.

It will do what a great book should by challenging your existing beliefs and making you think about the way you either play or coach the game.

It is not more of the same ‘positive thinking’ and ‘affirmation’ nonsense but a genuine inquiry about how our mind actually interacts with our body to either make or break our performance.

Your game and your life can’t help but be enhanced by reading this book.

Dr Karl Morris

Performance Coach to Six Major Champions

‘If the only thing people learned was not to be afraid of their experience, that alone would change the world.’

Syd Banks

  CHAPTER 1  

Lessons From a Ryder Cup Legend

‘Golf is deceptively simple and endlessly complicated; it satisfies the soul and frustrates the intellect. It is at the same time rewarding and maddening – and without a doubt the greatest game mankind has ever invented.’

—Arnold Palmer

It was the Sunday afternoon of the 2011 Players Championship at TPC Sawgrass in Florida. Cheers rang out as KJ Choi and David Toms battled for the title over the famous closing holes. It was quieter on the front nine and a lot less dramatic. Bad weather on Saturday meant the third round had overrun into the following morning. A two tee start would allow the final round to finish as scheduled on Sunday evening. Unusually, players further down the field were on the golf course at the same time as the leaders.

I was following Ian Poulter. I knew Ian from playing mini tour events years ago and through his attachment to Woburn Golf Club. Among the gallery were his wife Katie, IJP Design colleague Russell Hurd and fellow Woburn members Gary Johnstone and Steve Jensen.

Playing the back nine first, he was hitting the ball nicely but not converting. The mood was relaxed. Caddy Terry Mundy and Russell exchanged some wisecracks. We watched the group tee off down the 1st. Gary, Steve and I waited to see Bubba Watson drive in the match behind before walking across to the 2nd green to meet Ian’s group as they came down the par five.

There was a bit of a delay. The hole is reachable in two shots and a definite birdie opportunity. Unfortunately, Ian had blocked his drive into the forest. He found the ball but hit a tree with his recovery shot and had to take a penalty drop. He hacked out and laid up sixty yards short of the green. In typical Poulter fashion, the pitch shot finished six inches away.

Looking a bit disenchanted with life, he tapped in, then wandered to the back of the green and sat down in an empty marshall’s seat while his two playing partners putted out. I watched from about twenty yards away as he pulled the yardage book out of his back pocket and started scribbling, seemingly intent on getting something important down on paper. Always curious about what top players are thinking, I wondered what he was writing. The moment didn’t seem like a good time to ask.

The double bogey had little effect on his play. He made one of the best up and downs I have ever seen on the next hole to save par.

A few weeks later, I was back at Woburn watching the English Amateur Championship being played over the Marquess course. A couple of players I worked with were competing, so I spent the morning wandering in the sunshine watching them play. As I walked back to the clubhouse, I spotted two familiar figures on the practice ground alongside the eighteenth fairway. I made my way over to find Ian and caddy Terry in deep discussion about how to use a new video camera.

‘Alright if I watch you hit a few?’ I asked, after we had exchanged pleasantries.

‘You’re fine mate’, Ian replied.

I stretched out on the grass as he fired six irons onto one of the tiny practice greens halfway down the range.

After an hour it became clear he was winding down. The conversation with Terry moved on from business (his golf swing) to football, cars and recent tournaments. Typical golfer chit chat. I waited for a lull, took a deep breath, then dived in.

‘Ian, I’m not sure I should ask, but do you remember the second hole at Sawgrass on Sunday? You hit it into the trees off the tee but couldn’t get it back on the fairway. Then you laid it up and pitched it stiff from about sixty yards. I think you made a double?’

He looked at me quizzically for a couple of seconds. ‘Err, vaguely. Why?’

‘You sat down at the back of the green and wrote stuff in your yardage book. It looked pretty important at the time. Can I ask you what you were doing?’

‘Probably just writing down my yardages and doing the scorecard.’

‘So you weren’t making notes or anything?’

‘Notes? What about?’

‘Well, you’d just made a mistake, and seemed a bit annoyed about it. I wondered if you were writing some notes. You know, positive mental reminders, key swing thoughts, some affirmations maybe…you know, ‘Head Stuff’?

He smiled at Terry and then at me.

‘No Mate… We don’t do Head Stuff.’

*     *     *

‘Golf is a game played on a five-inch course. The distance between your ears.’

—Bobby Jones

Ian was a precocious eighteen-year-old when we first met. I’ve always been impressed by the way he gets the maximum out of his talent. He’s a very good ball striker, but by his own admission, it isn’t the best part of his game. If you didn’t know and saw him on the practice range at a Tour event, you probably wouldn’t pick him as a Ryder Cup legend. He’s not a short hitter, but doesn’t overpower golf courses like Rory McIlroy, Dustin Johnson or Bubba Watson can.

His Ryder Cup record is phenomenal. He always seems to play his best golf when the pressure is most intense, typified by that amazing run of birdies on the Saturday at Medinah in 2010. So why is he so mentally tough? How does he deliver so consistently in demanding situations?

Looking at the statistics, he does the simple things well. He drives the ball in the fairway. He is excellent with his wedges. He has a great short game, and putts well, especially from inside ten feet. The short game and putting are the simplest shots in terms of technique, and you don’t need to be a great athlete to be a great putter.

What you do need, are calmness, clarity of mind and imagination. Ian has these in abundance. He knows his game very well and plays to his strengths. Famously, he doesn’t get nervous. When asked why, he replied,

‘I’m playing the shot, not the situation.’

This insight hints at why he excels when the pressure is at its most intense. I’ll explain later in the book.

His passion for the game is obvious and he works hard to be the best he can be. Fiercely independent, he doesn’t have a regular coach. He keeps things simple. As you will be aware if you follow him on social media, he isn’t bothered by other people’s thoughts or opinions. He has a sense of perspective. His family is by far the most important thing in his life. A bad day on the golf course is just a bad day on the golf course. His long-time caddy Terry Mundy is similarly down to earth.

From talking to Ian occasionally, from conversations with his father Terry and his former coach Lee Scarbrow, I would suggest the main reason Ian plays to his potential so often is because he doesn’t think too much. He trusts himself and his golf swing. He sees the shot and lets it go without worrying about the consequences.

An interviewer once asked him if he used a sports psychologist.

‘Why would I pay someone to tell me how good I already know I am?’ was his reply.

From the novice trying to break a hundred for the first time, to the tour pro trying to win his first major, most golfers agree that the mental aspect of the game is vital. The importance of the mind has become recognised in all sports. Its significance is increasingly acknowledged, as is the work of mind coaches and sports psychologists such as Tim Gallwey, Bob Rotella, Karl Morris and Steve Peters.

Golf is a hard sport to play at a high level week in, week out. Hence the time and effort the best players spend ‘working’ on the mental side of their performance. Tiger Woods won the 2008 US Open, the last in his era of dominance. Seventeen out of the next twenty majors were claimed by first time major winners. The number one spot in the world rankings keeps changing hands. Players who seemed poised to dominate have dropped back into the pack.

I would suggest a golfer’s mind is the greatest separator between success and failure. Between champion and also-ran. More so than swing technique, physical fitness or equipment. It’s perfectly possible to win important tournaments with a golf swing that doesn’t fit the technical ideals promoted by commentators and golf instructors, as Graeme McDowell, Jim Furyk, Jeev Milkha Singh, Colin Montgomerie and Jordan Spieth have shown.

Camillo Villegas and Dustin Johnson are generally accepted as two of the fittest, most athletic players in the professional game. At the time of writing, neither is a major champion. Villegas lost his PGA Tour playing rights in 2012. If you wander down the range at a Tour event, you can observe a range of ages, body shapes and levels of physical fitness.

The best players in the world struggle to play their best golf consistently even with the abundance of psychological information available to them. It isn’t unusual to see a golfer follow a 65 one day with 75 the next. At his peak, Tiger Wood’s greatest asset was a calmness and mental resilience that allowed him to produce his best golf when it mattered most, despite the apparent pressures of the situation.

Adam Scott, has one of the best swings in the game, yet somehow he managed to lose a four-shot lead over the closing holes of the 2012 Open Championship. His golf for the previous three and a half rounds was sublime. Reviewing the television footage, there’s no discernible change in his golf swing or putting stroke. I doubt Adam himself can explain exactly what happened at Royal Lytham on that July afternoon. I’m sure he believed in himself, trusted his swing, visualised the shot and went through his pre shot routine. He still didn’t par any of the last four holes.

Why is it that some of the 15 handicappers who turn up at my studio can hit a driver 250 yards into a fairway, will repeatedly land a seven iron on a green from 150 yards and can hole a dozen four footers in a row on the practice green, but struggle to break 90 when they have a medal card in their hand?

Golfers are offered endless streams of technical information intended to help them improve. But many don’t. They’re told what to learn in terms of swing technique, but little about how to learn it. They are overloaded with expert advice and things to think about. This is counter-productive. Particularly when it comes to the mental side of golf, such a significant aspect of the game.

Golfers are offered strategies and tips to manage their thinking, and cope with pressure. Sometimes results improve. But even if that’s the case, relief is often temporary. Golfers are rarely, if ever, asked to look inwards, to understand what might be causing them to feel pressure in the first place.

Who is this book for?

I’m guessing you aren’t completely happy with your game. Maybe you aren’t enjoying it as much as you used to? Or you have had some lessons and haven’t improved as you had hoped? Maybe you’re feeling stressed and under pressure when you play, and are looking for ways to cope with those feelings? Maybe you feel the progress in your game has levelled off, and you’re looking for a way to improve your scores without another round of ‘worse before it gets better’ swing changes?

I hope this book might be the catalyst for a re-evaluation of your approach. Instead of searching for another swing model, another coach, new golf clubs, the latest training aid, more balls at the driving range, or a new fitness programme, perhaps ask some different questions?

How do you feel when you’re playing golf? Where are those feelings coming from?

Are you relaxed, calm, decisive, resilient and liberated when you play? Or are you tight and pressured – a bundle of nerves? Are you absorbed in the process of hitting the next shot – or anxiously waiting for the wheels to come off at the worst possible moment, as seems to happen more often than not?

I hope this book will challenge your perceptions of the game. How does it look to you? When things are going well, golf seems simple and logical. Make or miss.