Golf_ The Mind Game - Marlin M. Mackenzie [20]
Brian said he felt his fingers on the club, turning his shoulders, the wind in his face, the shaft on his shoulder after follow-through, and oh, yes, a small stone under his shoe.
“And what did you hear?”
“Hardly anything at all, except the truck in the background, the whoosh of my club a couple of times when I swung. Yeah, when I heard the truck, the shot wasn’t very good.”
I said I wanted him to swing while paying attention to only one of those sensory cues at a time. He first chose the shoulder turn, a K-cue. Before he hit the ball, I wondered what he thought would be an acceptable performance on a scale of one to ten.
“About an eight or a nine. ”
“You’re too tough on yourself, like a lot of players,” I said. “Hogan didn’t always get tens, remember, and you’re a twenty handicapper.”
He settled on seven.
“Okay, go ahead and hit a few balls while paying strict attention to the muscles that control the turn of your shoulders. Nothing else. And concentrate on that shoulder turn throughout the entire process.”
Brian hit about six or seven balls, all but two of which were at least seventh-heaven. Two were better than sevens and one, he felt, was as pure as he could strike a 9-iron. A solid-perfect ten.
“I can’t believe I could hit the ball so well,” he said, while admitting that he’d lost concentration on the two shots that went sideways.
“Let’s anchor the feelings of making those good shots in relation to paying attention to the shoulder turn,” I said. “Creating this uptime anchor is a process of associating one cue with the physical feelings involved in executing the entire swing. We’ll use a visual anchor, a part of your body, or piece of equipment you’ll always have with you.”
Brian chose his class ring.
“Not a good idea,” I said. “Your ring is associated with school. Not that school is bad, but it makes the ring ‘dirty’ for my purposes. ”
“How about looking at my left shoe? It’s always visible.”
“Fine, and this is how I want you to create the anchor. First, remember all the physical sensations of hitting those good 9-iron shots—the muscle tension and the mechanics involved in the swing as you were paying attention to your shoulder turn on the backs wing.”
Brian looked out ahead while swinging his club gently, nodded, and said he was getting it.
“Now, as you look at your left shoe, say to yourself, ‘I’m storing in my shoe the feeling of hitting my 9-iron shots while paying attention to my shoulder turn.’ Put those swing feelings into your left shoe.”
“Whaaaaat?” Brian was not comfortable talking to a shoe.
“Humor me,” I said. “Pretend you’re storing all the muscle feelings and movements you used during those shots in your shoe.” Brian peered at his shoe for about ten seconds, then said, “Okay, now what?”
I asked how he’d done it, how he’d stored his swing feelings in such an unfamiliar way.
“I put a small movie screen on top of my shoe and ran a movie of me making a good shot,” he replied. “I saw the ball jump off the club and sail down the practice range.”
“And the feelings? The swing mechanics? The shoulder turn? Did you store all of them too?”
“As I was watching my miniature movie screen, I was feeling the swing,” he told me, “especially the shoulder turn. ”
I told Brian to choose another cue from his earlier swings, something he had seen. He chose the width of his stance, the distance between his feet, and concentrated on it while hitting another half-dozen shots.
Most of the shots were lousy. Fives at best. Not worth anchoring.
He picked another V-cue, watching the clubhead move back straight from the ball for the first twelve inches. This time his practice shots were up to his standard of excellence. I had him “stack” that cue into his left shoe.
We went on like