Ouch - A Reality Check

I managed to get a lesson with Trevor at lunchtime today.

The lesson was booked for 1pm so I thought I'd get there 40 minutes or so beforehand to warm up a bit and hit a few balls. I had been thinking about trying to set up a pre-shot routine. I'd bought a 100 balls so I thought I'd try and get a routine sorted so that I'd still have enough balls left for the 1/2 hour lesson.

I felt really good; I'd worked up through the gears of the clubs starting with a wedge and going all the way through to the driver. My routine consists of picking my target viewed from a couple of yards behind the ball, moving up to address, hitting a couple of practice shots until I'm happy then taking my shot. Basically a red, amber, green scenario.

I'd actually got this going pretty well and was hitting the ball straight and relatively cleanly. I'd just about got myself happy when Trevor came to the bay and gave me a reality check. "Your swings too fast, it's too steep and your trying to hit the cover off the ball!" Ouch!

I spent the next half hour getting my tempo back; I sorted my wedges and short irons but then Trevor passed me a 5 iron and I went through hell. I'm really still very unimpressed with my long iron game. If I'm going to win this challenge I've set myself then I need to get this sorted quickly.

My woods are working well as are my short irons so I need to get my long iron issues eradicated as quickly as possible. Before anyone says anything, I am fully aware that I haven't mentioned my putting yet. It's not being forgotten. With so much work to do, I feel as though I need to clear one obstacle before I attack another.

Mr Rotella has a book on putting which I have already acquired and I'm waiting for the right moment. I've also purchased some audio CD's of Bob's books which I'm planning on downloading on to my I-pod so I can listen when I'm away on business.

Ribs are a little stiff today so I'll need to keep a check on them as well.

ONE YEAR AND ONE DAY TO GO!!!

Hail or Shine and Thank You Bob

Hit 100 balls today for the first time in a long time. The weather was absolutely amazing. I've never known wind and rain like it when I've played any sport. Thank goodness it was undercover.

The range was absolutely full mainly of young kids which I've always found very off-putting in the past. Today however, thanks to Bob Rotella, I seemed to find an inner karma within myself. A dad was in the bay next to me with his young daughter and, by his standards, he was obviously having a bad day. He was really harsh on himself and beating himself up about his problems. His daughter was also on the receiving end of a few heated words.

Having read Bob's books, I try to instill a bit of discipline within myself and tell myself that no matter how bad a day I'm having, I've always been in a worse situation and I'm lucky to be doing what I'm doing. I have to say that when I first started reading "Bob", I was very sceptical however, if you let yourself go and give him a chance, you'll be amazed at the difference in yourself. I am sure that this method of thinking could be applied in many walks of life.

Rotella also teaches that you have to realise your weaknesses but this must be done in quieter, more reflective moments. Driving home, I realised that after 7 weeks without a lesson, the time has come for another half hour of instruction. I have sent Trevor a text hoping that he's working tomorrow and praying that his partner can hold on until Saturday before having her baby.

I'm starting to get the hang of the clubs but think I need someone to watch me as I can feel a couple of niggly flaws creeping in - Time Will Tell.

Happy Christmas

Not posted for a couple of days but it doesn't mean that I haven't been continuing the preparation. On Xmas Eve, Trev at John Reay Golf Centre fitted me out for a new set of PING G20 irons (a present from the wife). I opted for a 5 - SW set up but will look to add a hybrid together with driver, 3W and 5W in the fullness of time.

I also got a new stand bag for a birthday present from Rach. I've been staring at the clubs waiting to use them since Xmas Day and today, I managed to pinch an hour at the range to hit 90 balls. I can sense that there is a lot of sweetness in the clubs but I felt a little tense and didn't feel as though I got the best out of them.

I really need to be up there most days for a month to get to grips with them. Trev's partner is due to have a baby anytime now so he'll be away from the range for a couple of weeks. I would like to feel that by the time he returns, I've got to grips with the clubs and will be able to utilise the two remaining lessons I've got banked.

The stiffness around my ribs is almost non-existent now so that looks good. I am aware that I've put a few pounds on recently so that will be another job as soon as New Year is over.

I then really need to start searching for a course. I guess I've got it down to 3 or 4 but I'm not prepared to commit myself until I know for sure that I'm 100% happy with the one I've chosen.

With any luck, I should be able to pay a trip back to the range tomorrow. Plan to work on the 8 - SW's as this is a very important part of the game. Really want to zero in on my accuracy. Guess I need to relax a little more at address. I'll let you know how it goes.

What to do???

The next four weeks were purgatory. Just as everything had started to come together, I had been dealt a savage blow and I could do nothing about it. I had four weeks and two days.... yes I really did count the days.... where I didn't go anywhere near a golf club or the range.

I kept in touch with Trevor and updated him a couple of times how I felt. Those of you who have suffered from cracked ribs will know how frustrating it is. The problem is exacerbated by the fact that your ribs and the surrounding muscles are constantly in use. Every breath you take uses the muscles. Every strenuous movement you make uses the muscles. I could not pick a full kettle up; I couldn't lift a tray and I could only lie on one side in bed. Every time I felt that the injury was improving, I aggravated it once more.

Finally, after four weeks I felt as though the problem had pretty much gone. On Sunday 18th December, precisely one week before Christmas, I went back to the range accompanied by my wife who was there to ensure I didn't overdo it. I managed to hit 25 balls with a 9 iron; 25 balls I savoured very much. To my surprise, they were surprisingly straight. After 15 or so balls, I felt a few twinges but nothing too painful. The muscles must have been so stiff after a month of inactivity. I chipped the last four or five to avoid any un-necessary aggravation.

I had a bit of soreness for a couple of hours following my visitbut that soon disappeared. Encourages by my return, I left it a couple of days and went back on the Tuesday to hit 25 balls on my own. Again, everything went well with even less post-swing stiffness and that brings us pretty much up to date. The rest, as they say, will be history.

Grooving It

For the next 6 weeks, I experienced the highs and, at times, the lows of practicing.

After the first lesson, I left the range confident of my new found best friend - my swing. It felt good; I was hitting the ball straight but, with the confidence came complacency. Every so often, I became blase. I began to think I was Luke Donald, rushed the shot and back came the slices and shanks. My head would then drop and I would struggle to get back into the groove.

Things got particularly bad during the third lesson. I could barely hit a ball. No matter how hard Trevor tried, it would not sink into my thick skull and the problems, compounded with a lack of confidence, made me almost suicidal.

Then, as the lesson ended, and Trevor left me to hit the remaining 20 balls, the penny dropped. I slowed everything down, started to hit through the ball and transferred my weight at the right time. The ball went straight down the middle of the range. That was it. I was back on track.

I vowed to spend as many lunch times as possible at the range. It was only 4 miles from work and I worked out that I could get to and from the range, hit at least 60 balls (105 if I was going well) within my lunch break. I was hitting between 600 and 1,000 balls per week and things were going well.

I had the occasional day where nothing went right but I always managed to get back on track. During this 6 week period, I had also found a new golfing guru. I was in Waterstones bookshop with my family one Saturday and I was browsing the golf books, killing time while my son bought himself a new book. I noticed a collection of books aimed at the psychological side of golf by Dr Bob Rotella. Now usually, I wouldn't give these books a second glance, but on this Saturday, something told me to take a look.

I actually found the preface very interesting and continued on into the first chapter. My first instinct was "This book isn't for me, it's for professionals". But then, I started to convert some of Bob's thoughts and managed to turn them round to fit my own golf.

I bought the book and I couldn't put it down. I read it in 2 days flat. It gave me confidence; it let me clear my mind of negative thoughts and It made me start to believe in myself. Bob Rotella is truly amazing. I am now in the middle of his third book and he is high on my Christmas list.

I also read two other books which fascinated me; "Dream On" by John Richardson and "Bring Me the Head of Sergio Garcia" by Tom Cox. Richardson's book details his own efforts to go from novice to breaking par in a year and Cox's book highlights his efforts to turn pro on the European Tour.

I had really started to play well and with confidence in my own ability. Then, the nightmare. I was at the range one Monday lunchtime on my customary smash and dash. Having hit 100 balls, I walked back to the car and felt what can only be described as an electric shock in my right ribs. The pain was intense but only lasted a couple of seconds.

I drove back to work and as I got out of the car, I felt a stiffness around my ribs. It was actually quite painful but gradually disappeared by the Wednesday. I didn't go back to the range that week until the Friday. I had been at a Black Tie event in Stratford upon Avon on the Thursday Evening. The event featured the legendary Frank Bruno and was thoroughly enjoyable.

I has stopped the night in the hotel and woke on the Friday morning feeling remarkably fresh after the alcohol of the night before. I wasn't in work that morning and my clubs were in the car. I had no plans so I popped in to the range. I had time on my hands so I took 100 balls. I walked up to a bay at the very top of the range as it was quite busy. I loosened up as normal and took a few practice swings. I had hit three balls. I lined the fourth ball up, went through the usual routine - courtesy of Bob Rotella - and hit the ball.

Immediately I had hit the ball, I felt a searing pain through my right hand side and I experienced what I can best describe as the whole of my rib cage collapsing. The pain was unbearable. I stopped straight away, packed up my stuff, retreated back to the car and called the doctors for an emergency appointment.

I got an appointment with my doctor and within the hour, I was sat in the consulting room. After a thorough, and at times painful examination, I was given the worst possible news considering where I was with my newly found hobby...... I had cracked two ribs and severely torn the muscles around the affected area.

The only way to treat the injury was rest. I was devastated. Just when everything had started to go so well, I was left in the lurch.

Lessons - Taking the plunge

I was at my local range in Coventry one Sunday morning. Things hadn't gone well. I trudged back to my car despondently. All of a sudden, an inner voice screamed at me. "For God's sake, go and book yourself some lessons. You know that you need them, now swallow your pride and give yourself a fighting chance of being a decent player!!!"

My wife's boss had recently taken up the game. I had seen him up there a couple of weeks earlier and he had mentioned that the Pro he used for lessons was very good. I needed someone who wouldn't belittle mean but, on the other hand, push me as far as he could.

That was it - decision made. I rushed into the shop at the range and walked up to Trevor (the Pro). Without thinking twice, I said to him "I need to book some lessons and you've been recommended by a friend." The first lesson was booked for 10.30 the following Sunday.

I decided not to go back to the range that week as I had a pretty good idea that my swing was in for some pretty major changes. Sure enough, the following Sunday confirmed my suspicions.

Trevor asked me what I wanted to get out of these lessons. I told him that above anything else, I wanted consistency. He asked me to hit a few 8 irons using my existing swing and he immediately found a major flaw.

My main problem had been my slice. I hit a ball a long way (probably through  my hockey days), but I always pushed it and pushed it well! Trevor informed me that although I had a very smooth swing, I had the ball way too far forward in my stance meaning my body was too open by the time I was striking the ball.

For the remainder of the lesson, I spent my time adopting to the changes and, to be perfectly honest, I felt like I was taking a backwards step. My slice had become more of a shank and I began to wonder what the hell I'd done.

Finally with a couple of tweaks from Trevor, mainly standing up a bit more at address, I started to hit the ball well. His parting words on that day were "Practice as much as you can"......and that's exactly what I spent the next 6 weeks doing interspersed with lessons.

Back On Again

And here we are. At the back end of 2011.

In 2008, my wife's father unfortunately passed away suddenly. He played golf and his clubs (an old set of Callaways) had rested in an old carry bag on a rusty screw in my garage ever since. I was in there one day and for some strange reason, I could almost hear him saying to me "Go on you silly bugger. Get my clubs down and use them."

I had introduced him to golf 14 years earlier and, as his career blossomed, mine had faded away. He was a miserable sod on the course and it became hard work to spend 4 hours on a course listening to him grumbling on about how rubbish he was.

Something inside me agreed with his calling and I lifted the clubs down. The mud from his last round was still embedded in the grooves; it was actually quite upsetting. Despite his moans and groans, he was a likeable old bugger.

I cleaned the clubs off and, after receiving consent from my wife, Rachel, I drove to my local range for a swing. This was either going to be ridiculous or was going to hook me once again.

Remarkably, I was reasonably accurate - or at least I thought I was - but more of that at a later date. I was hitting balls well although my old flaw, the slice, was still a problem.

I returned home with enough enthusiasm to want to go again and, after a couple more range visits, felt confident enough to give my dad (a 77 year old hacker) a call to see if he wanted a game. He was only doing 9 holes at a time but I thought that this would be the ideal way to return to the course.

I actually played very well, all things considered, and after a further consultation with Rachel, I formed the opinion that I wanted to take this more seriously.

After a couple more practice rounds which showed potential but many weaknesses and a few more trips to the range, I thought to myself "enough's enough, there's only one thing for it - LESSONS"

What It's All About

I've always been a sportsman. I've played Hockey to a fairly high standard and, in the summer months, cricket was always my chosen sport. I guess you could say that I have, or had, an eye for the ball.

In my late 20's, after a rather nasty car crash, I was forced to give up hockey due to a back injury.

I really didn't want to say goodbye to sport completely so the search began for an alternative. I'd really only ever played team sports seriously but like the idea of putting a bit of pressure on myself through an individual sport.

As a kid, I'd had a few golf lessons on a Saturday morning at my local driving range but, despite a few rounds with my dad or my mates, never really taken golf that seriously. The pursuit of a new sport brought golf to the fore (excuse the pun) and, when my ex-wife's father asked if I wanted a game, it sparked an on-off affair with the game.

I purchased a relatively cheap set of clubs to begin with and found that, even without lessons, I could hit a ball quite a long way and mostly in the right direction.

The relationship (with  my ex that is) didn't last but I took solace in my newly found single life by playing more and more golf with a newly purchased (that'll teach her) set of clubs. I got a handicap at The Forest of Arden (Aylesford only) of 18 but I felt I could probably better this.

Unfortunately, my newly found single status meant I relinquished my membership and played on Municipal courses in Birmingham. The standard remained reasonable even when I met my wife to be, Rachel, and I didn't play quite as much. Children then came along and, unfortunately, the golf took more of a back seat as being a dad took over.

The clubs (Ping i3's) found their way to the back of the shed and were eventually sold. The on/off love affair with the game was put on hold.