Thought for the Day
All general statements are false
Stats, damned stats and the truth
If you are of a particularly nerdy bent, like to wear an anorak in bed and overhear conversations in which people use the word ‘pedant’ a lot, you are probably one of those people who is absolutely delighted that it is possible to get pro golf statistics on just about everything. On the US Tour, for example, apart from the regular categories of driving distance and accuracy, sand saves and the like, there are also headings for proximity to the hole, scrambling and a brand new one called ‘strokes gained – putting.’ And no, I’m not going to explain that one for two reasons; first, life is too short and second, I have no idea what it is.
But the rather prosaic truth remains that at the very top of the pro game, where all the competitors, it seems, are beautiful ball-strikers, are all fitter than a butcher’s dog and every one of them can get the ball up and down from a spectator’s coat pocket, it is putting that makes the difference between having a good and a bad week. All of them can routinely putt, of course, to a standard that would make you and I more excited than Dale Winton in a Turkish bath if we could achieve it just once. They expect to hole several 15-25 footers a round, whereas we mortals set the ball off somewhere in the direction of the cup and hope that it falls in through a combination of luck, the alignment of the planets and as a small reward for the fact that we are kind to animals.
For us mid-handicap amateurs, I think the most telling statistic is greens in regulation – I certainly know for myself that if I up my GIR figure my score is almost bound to improve – but for the pros, it all boils down to who has a hot putter.
This week’s Volvo World Matchplay win by Ian Poulter is a perfect illustration. In his match against Lee Westwood he couldn’t compete with the Worksop man’s peerless tee-to-green game but putted the lights out. Later the same day he went head-to-head with Francesco Molinari, who should have won with something to spare, and would have done if he had holed out better. Poulter was two down with four to play but drained a crucial putt on the 15th that turned the match in his favour.
Ian loves matchplay golf and it is not difficult to see why – he has a wonderful putting stroke and that magical, Ballesteros-like ability to get the ball into the hole when he absolutely needs to. He also knows, in a way that many others don’t, that he is a superb putter who can always rely on that smooth, consistent stroke.
Déjà vu all over again?
Speaking of which, I really do hate to bring this up, and sincerely hope that I am wrong but the parallels between Rory McIlroy and Sergio Garcia seem to be growing with every passing week. Both showed precocious and awesome talent as teenagers, contended in a major very early in their pro careers but failed to get the job done and both look about as comfortable over a four-foot putt as John Terry trying to shake the hand of Wayne Bridge.
Okay, Sergio used to be a very good putter and lost it somewhere along the line, whereas Rory has shown frailty on the greens for as long as the TV cameras have been on him, and that is the biggest worry of all. Pro golfers who are only average when wielding a flat stick can work on and improve that part of their game – people like Lee Westwood, Darren Clarke and Ross Fisher spring to mind. They can also compensate, to some extent, by being so good from tee to green that their putting deficiencies can be disguised. But when the pressure gauge is turned up to 11; usually in the majors, the putting stroke just doesn’t hold up.
Consider, for example, that, despite his remarkable talent, Rory has won once in Europe, whereas the Italian teenager Matteo Monassero already has two victories under his belt.
As I said, I truly hope that in Rory’s case I am wrong but the omens are not propitious.
Random thought
Nietzsche said that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, but what the heck did he know about golf?
Quote of the Week
Ryder Cup, how can it be – we’ve got four from the Armada and one from the bloody Luftwaffe.
Max Faulkner (when Ryder Cup selection was widened to include continental Europeans and political correctness was yet to be invented)
