48 - Weirdness in Widnes…

Sunday was the day I received my free golf lesson. I won’t lie I was bricking it. I know, I know, I’m getting free lessons on a private course from a golf pro so I should be excited as a kid at Christmas but the fact of the matter I wasn’t looking forward to it. The reason for the apprehension is simple; I’m shit.

I hate the fact that after all the hours of practice I’ve put in I’m almost as bad as the first time I went to the driving range in September. I was hoping that Jason (the lovely, lovely pro at Widnes Golf Course) could wave a magic wand and help me improve overnight. The bad news is that he couldn’t, the good news is that he has shown me some things that will hopefully help me become better with practice.

I set my alarm for 9 o’clock (on a Sunday!!!) but I woke up at 6 for some strange reason. The strange reason turned out to be hail stones the size of Pro V1’s smashing against my bedroom window. Hmmm, this was going to be a good day. I got up a couple of hours later and checked to see if the hail had stopped. It had…only to be replaced by rain coming down in horizontal sheets as thick as Colin Montgomery’s big, fat belly.

I sent a quick text to Terry (who arranged the lesson) to confirm that we were still going but didn’t hear anything so I dragged my carcass to the bathroom to get ready. I had spent a lot of time the night before ironing all my swanky golf gear (“like a sad bastard” I hear you shout) so I at least looked the part even if I was as much use as training shoes on Stephen Hawkins.

I hauled my bats to the car through the rain and wind and headed down the motorway. The car was being blown from lane to lane and my wipers were doing ten to the dozen. Oh I was looking forward to playing on a presumably difficult course, in the howling wind and rain with the eyes of a golf pro on me scrutinising my every move!

I picked up Terry and we headed to the course. As I was getting my stuff together Terry went in to see Jason to check that we could still play seeing as the weather was so bad. I turns out that the course had just opened as the weather had broken so we were ok to head off. At this point I wanted to be anywhere else in the world, I REALLY wasn’t up to playing but I gritted my teeth and headed for the first tee.

Terry and Jason smashed their drives miles into the distance then it was my turn. Jason asked me to tee off and he would check what I was doing. Knowing that I was going to slice the shite out of it with ‘Arthur’ I decided to play it safe and use ‘Dougie’ the hybrid. I got myself ready, took a deep breath and promptly hooked my ball into the rough about 150 yards away. Class.

As we walked through the trees, looking for my kangaroo marked Nike ball I reflected on how empty and tidy the course was, a real change to what I’m used to which is, of course, a scall infested municipal littered with crap. On reflection though I can’t really afford the £750 annual membership fee so I’ll have to put up with the odd rusty Stella can on the greens and kids on motorbikes tear-arsing across the fairway.

True to form I lost my first ball on the first hole but we did find three in the process of looking for it including a Titleist Pro V1 so it is swings and roundabouts I reckon. I didn’t realise it at the time but Jason must have been studying me like Harold Shipman studied a rich widow. Everything I did was apparently being analysed as when we got to the 2nd tee he was ready with advice.

It seems I have been gripping the club almost completely wrong from day one. Jason got me to grip the club in a weird and totally unnatural way (for me anyway) and then swing. My shot was garbage but the pro seemed pleased which confused me. He explained that the final position of the ball wasn’t important today; it was all about getting my setup and swing right.

I used to go through a little routine before hitting the ball but it has slipped a little recently. Jason insisted that I start doing it again as if I didn’t get my setup right there was no chance of hitting the ball consistently which is one of the most important things in golf. Time to get my G.A.S.P. on. What is G.A.S.P. Rob? Well I’ll tell you.

G.A.S.P stands for Grip, Aim, Stance, Position and is the four things I will now check religiously before hitting the ball. What you have to do is ensure your grip is correct, check you are actually aiming at the target, sort your feet out so they are square with the ball and usually at shoulder width and then check the ball is in the correct position between your feet for the club you are using.

It sounds a bit of a ball ache but after a few holes it became second nature if not completely straightforward or comfortable. To be honest, it is the things I SHOULD be doing anyway but haven’t. With Jason’s help and patience I learned the importance of getting it right EVERY time and slowly started to reap the rewards.

Another thing he showed me was one of the shots I’d be using time and time again; the high trajectory chip. And Jason is a guy with class; he uses Vokey wedges…get in my son!!! He showed me how to set up to hit the ball, showed me where my body weight should be and showed me how my arms should swing through the ball. Then Terry showed us both something, namely some bushes to hide in to get out of the sudden hailstorm that almost did for my ears.

Once I had G.A.S.P. sorted Jason moved on to my non-existent follow through. He filmed me on his phone and then ran some funky software that showed that my setup was good, my backswing was ok but I didn’t shift my weight forward and follow through after hitting the ball. This is a big problem if you want the ball to fly any distance apparently.

He asked me to go through the G.A.S.P. routine without a ball in front of me and then turn towards the hole so my chest was square with it. As I did my right heel automatically came up and I was in a pose I recognised from the telly but felt strange doing. Jason explained that I should end up in this position for most of the shot I make.

Time to put all the theory into practice. I teed the ball up and went through my G.A.S.P. routine. I took a deep breath and, concentrating on my final position, swung at the ball confident that I was going to hit a peach. What I actually hit was the green diagonally across from us as I sliced the shit out of my shot. I was absolutely gutted but put on a brave face. I genuinely felt that I had let Jason down and that all his hard work was in vain.

When he came back with my ball I went to apologise to Jason for fucking up so spectacularly but before I could he said that he was pleased with the shot. Eh? He explained that I got all the G.A.S.P. checks right, swung through the ball well and ended in the correct final position. The only thing that wasn’t ok was the actual shot but he assured me that would come with practice.

He gave me the ball and asked me to do the same thing again. I was now a bag of nerves but went through the whole routine again. This time I smashed the ball for what I thought was miles down the fairway! Not only that but the shot was straight and where I aimed it! Jason is a genius! I swaggered down the fairway to my ball, my chest swelled with pride.

When we got to the ball I found I was only a few yards behind Terry who was only a few yards behind a certified pro! Those two were good players using VERY expensive drivers whereas I was a clown with a £10 recovery club yet I was almost matching them. That shot was a milestone in my golfing life and made me hungry and determined to play more and more. Of course I fucked up my next shot but that is beside the point.

We carried on around the course with Jason helping tweak my game all the time. I told him that he must have the patience of a saint to put up with the likes of me but he just smiled and explained that he is doing something that he loves.

I’m not sure if he loved our entire round together seeing as I’m rubbish, it was 10 o’clock on a Sunday morning, it was close to freezing out on the course and we were regularly getting soaked by driving rain or pummelled by hail stones! The hail was so bad on what turned out to be our last hole that the green turned white and we had to hide in a shelter for 5 minutes.

After I putted for the final time I shook Jason’s hand and thanked him for being kind enough to give me a free lesson and putting up with my grunts, swearing and terrible shots. I thought he had been so cool that I hugged him. I think he appreciated the hug although when I let go I did notice that his eyes were screaming with terror. Bless.

We walked back to the car in our soaking wet clothes and I suddenly felt drained. As we got to the car park Jason’s next lesson arrived. He was about to go back out on the course in the driving rain/sleet/hail and try and help some other bloke who would struggle with Crazy Golf let alone the real thing. I’ll tell you something; he must REALLY love his job.

As I drove back to Terry’s to drop him off my head was spinning with everything I had learned. I was itching to get to the driving range with Lucky to show him what I had picked up but in the end I was exhausted and he couldn’t be bothered (I can always rely on Lucky!)

I had hit just two good shots all morning but that wasn’t the point. Jason had given me the foundation I needed to build upon, now it is up to me to pull my finger out practice until it is all second nature.