Is golf in your blood?

When bodies move in perfect synchrony with a golf club, gently swaying from left to right with the proper amount of torsion, amassing enough momentum and power on the downswing, connecting with the ball with utmost precision and accuracy, rising in a crisp upsweep to complete the follow-through with an almost imperceptible half-second of hang time and, finally, dropping the club back to a natural bend at the finish, it is, to me, a movement so balletic, so poetic –utterly sublime.

But these sightings are oh, so very rare! Chances are you will encounter Tiger Woods and Annika Sorenstam wannabes instead, who, with club in hand, whack the living daylights out of that puny, dimpled, white ball, with as much rage, displaced energy and brute force as anyone could muster, just to gain yardage –lots of it! And then the magic is gone.

I can say with certainty that you and I have seen several variations on the standard golf swing. It is, of course, granted that some variants are actually mutations – through no fault of the golfer’s. They are seemingly unforced and therefore beyond their master’s control and subsequently pardonable. What bothers me most are those swings that are obviously contrived with maximum effort to look suave and those that look barbaric because they are engineered to unleash quantum power, going completely against the grain of the golfer’s natural anatomical torque.

There is what I call the "epileptic seizure," where the body rocks in choppy, convulsive movements to swing the club from point A to point B. There is also that ubiquitous "Kung Fu Shuffle," where after the ball is hit in an awkward manner, the body comes to rest and, as an afterthought, the right foot is pivoted in back en pointe, to strike a pose. This added gesture, this embellishment, serves no real purpose but to assure the golfer that he most probably looked good executing that swing. There is also what I call the "axe hit," where the club is wielded like a forest axe to fell trees. The golfer’s torso is flush in front of the ball, his hips square and unmoving. He then lifts the club, Paul Bunyan-like, over his head, hacks it down, scoops the ball up in a speedy robotic motion and holds the club straight at the finish, over his left shoulder. Meanwhile, aside from his arms, no other part of his body has moved or expended energy. But boy, did his ball travel the distance!

Inversely, you will always find that golfer who is the epitome of grace and coordination, whose textbook swing is flawless in a frame-by-frame analysis, but who cannot hit the ball beyond the tip of his nose.

There is incredible pain to be borne in watching men’s bodies contort in spastic moves while contriving what I could only guess is a golf swing.

There must be wisdom and foresight in introducing children to sport at a young age, when the body is supple and uncorrupted by limitations of flexibility and previous injury, when muscle memory is sharpest and at its greatest capacity. What, then, is the best recourse if one is to pick up the game of golf at an age when youth has been superceded by stiffer joints and flaccid muscles? It is always best to enlist the services of a reputable pro because golf is not a DIY sport. Video recordings at the driving range are the most honest and reliable critiques of your swing. It is best to enlist your wife and children as allies or, better yet, co-enthusiasts so you don’t make a golf widow out of your wife and golf orphans out of your kids. If you play as a family, your time together is heightened by the shared experience of the sport. Patience and practice are required in liberal amounts. If, after much fuss and fanfare, your swing remains totally ridiculous, or your game mediocre, it may be best for you to just resign yourself to being an armchair golfer, so go forth and buy one of those PlayStation consoles and play all the golf you want sitting down and within the comforts of an air-conditioned room. Or there’s always badminton or bowling; who knows?

Does golf have to be in one’s blood for one to become a decent player or do young aspirants have to be heat-blasted and hammered with rigorous training and discipline by parents so they can forge a future like Tiger Woods? Or can an early start in learning the sport make up for what one lacks in genetic endowment for athletics?

What if parents become more imposing by putting their children on a strict golfing regimen – would they turn out to be über achievers like Tiger Woods and consequently happier? Is a controlling parent the difference between a champion and a runner-up? Is will power brought on by an environment of discipline more important than developing a passion for sport in the quest for victory? Are belligerence and hunger better motivators than inner calm and singularity of purpose in athletes?

My brother Bong Lopez, coach of the Philippine Men’s and Ladies’ National Teams, says that what separates a winner from a good player is the most important muscle in the human body–the heart. He always says that as a coach, he finds that along with extraordinary talent one has to possess the "heart of a champion" to get anywhere at all and to stay there. This he describes as even temperament, focus, a firm resolve and an unfailing spirit. Golf is a solitary, quiet, mental game where an enduring psychological preparedness is crucial. Braggadocio and temper outbursts assure a golfer of an extremely short sporting life because it means expending a lot of negative energy, which takes away from one’s focus, one’s performance, and one’s game.

It is half the ground work accomplished if one’s family is a devotee of the sport because it makes for a child’s early exposure and it automatically lends a supportive environment where the logistics such as club membership are most likely already in place. But if it is presented as a task to the child and passion is not ignited in him somewhere along the way, then longevity may never become part of the equation.

I have witnessed fathers bullying their young sons on the course or the driving range for better performances. I have seen parents lash out at their child’s opponents or at the game’s umpires or referees in other sports. I have time and again cringed at a parent’s blameful post-mortem of a lost game to a defeated child. I wonder what the merits of all these criticisms are? How thin is the line between rallying a child’s spirit and crushing it? In the crusade to raise champions and achievers do we unwittingly compromise our children’s sense of self and psychological well-being? What do you think?

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E-mail the author at clfortyfied@yahoo.com