Golf is Not a Game of Perfect

by Bob Rotella

  If he risks the driver and hits it well, say, 240 yards down the middle, what has he gained? He’s still looking at a 245-yard shot to the green, (assuming, for the sake of illustration, that he’s playing this hole from the tournament tees). This shot is beyond the capability of most amateurs. If he misses the second shot right, he’s looking at that difficult long bunker shot. If he decides to lay up, all he’s accomplished with his driver is to reduce his lay-up club from a 6-iron to a 9-iron. The reward does not justify the risk.

  The same goes for most amateurs playing long par fours on any course. A lot of them have no chance of reaching par-four holes that are over 430 yards. They could easily reach the greens on all these holes with a couple of smooth 5-irons and a wedge. Yet they consistently pull the driver out of the bag and get themselves into trouble, turning a hole that could be a routine bogey and occasional par into a 6, a 7, or an 8.

  Too many players at all levels try to rip a driver on nearly every tee. A professional might tell you that he truly has confidence in his driver. And sometimes that’s justified. A Tom Kite or a Nick Price can play a precision shot with a driver. But a weekend player, if he or she is honest, will generally admit that the driver comes out of the bag because the driver is fun. It appeals to the ego to hit, occasionally, a drive that impresses the rest of the foursome. So even if he recognizes that he might score better if he never carried a driver, he keeps using it.

  If that’s what you want to do, fine. Just don’t get angry when you get punished for it, because you’re going to get punished severely on most courses. Instead of a third wedge, you might want to carry a chain saw.

  If your objective is to shoot the best score you can, you might do well to remember why Jack Nicklaus, Ben Hogan and Nick Faldo hit lots of 1-irons and 3-woods off the tee. Even if the longest club you can hit confidently onto the fairway is a 5-iron, you’d be better off using it if your purpose is to score.

  This is doubly true on short par fours. A good architect will tempt a player on one of these short holes to hit the ball a long way, thinking to drive the green or set up a very short second shot. But the architect, if he’s good, will build lots of trouble into the hole where even slightly errant drives would land. The smart choice is usually to hit an iron or fairway wood off the tee, leaving a full wedge for the second shot.

  NO. 11 AT Augusta is another long par four, 455 yards. Standing on its green, the first thing you notice is the little pond in front of the left side of the green. This will influence the way you play the hole. No matter where the flag is, and on Sunday at the Masters it is always near the pond, you want your second shot to stay safely away from the water.

  This might seem, at first blush, to be negative thinking. Why not ignore the pond and fire at the flag, even if it’s on the left side? Isn’t that positive thinking?

  Positive thinking, in my opinion, does not mean taking a rip at every risky shot the course presents. It is, rather, the development and execution of an intelligent strategy that weighs risks and rewards and gives a player a chance to shoot his best possible score.

  I tell my professional players that going for the flag depends on the distance. With a wedge in their hands, they should always go for it. Indeed, they should go for the hole. No one makes it to the Tour without being at least that good with the wedge. Between 120 and 170 yards is a gray area for most professionals. They must consider the wind, the speed of the greens, how they feel, and the potential penalty for a slightly missed shot before they decide whether to aim for the pin. If, for instance, the penalty for missing is likely to be no worse than a routine bunker shot, especially from the uniform, groomed bunkers at Augusta, a professional might go for the pin. If the penalty is a wet ball and a stroke penalty, he’ll probably aim for the middle of the green. From 170 yards out or farther, I advise professionals to always shoot for the fattest or safest part of the green, regardless of where the flag is. Once in a while, I see someone knock it close to a tight pin from 200 or 250 yards. Invariably, the television announcer will praise his boldness for going for the flag from that distance. In fact, what usually happened is that the player aimed for the middle of the green and mishit it.

  On No. 11, the safe side is obviously the right side. In fact, closer observation of the green area shows that there is a spacious area of manicured fairway grass to the right of the green. This is the area from which Larry Mize chipped in to beat Greg Norman in their 1987 playoff. You could even putt from there if you trusted your putter.

  The professionals who get in trouble with the pond on No. 11 are usually players who don’t feel confident about their putting and chipping. They are afraid they will need three to get down unless they get their second shots close to the pin. You can be a genius at course management if you’re really cocky with your wedge and putter.

  For weekend players looking backward at No. 11, the calculations would again be somewhat different. The hole would be too long for some of them to reach in two, and they would do best to devise a plan for the first two shots that would leave them their most comfortable pitching distance. Their target as they approach the green would depend on their personal threshold distance. Inside the threshold distance, they would go for the flag. Beyond it, they would shoot for the right side of the green, taking the pond out of play. Looking at a long iron into the green, an amateur might well aim for the right edge, planning to rely on his short game to get up and down if he hits the fairway area to the right of the green. This strategy takes the pond out of play.

  NO. 12, although only 155 yards long, is another hole that rewards a backward examination. From the green, the perils of Rae’s Creek are more apparent than they are from the tee. The green, which simply looks wide from the tee, shows itself to be terribly shallow once you’re standing on it. And it is easier to see that the creek, which looks from the tee to flow perpendicular to the line of the shot, in fact bends away from the tee on the right side of the green. This means that there is almost no margin for error on the right. A few yards too long, and the ball is bunkered, raising the possibility that the ensuing sand shot will roll back over the green and into the water. A few yards too short, and the ball is lost, unless you are Fred Couples in 1992 and the gods are smiling down on you. (And you have the ability and presence of mind to get it up and down from the bank as he did.)

  Therefore, most professionals always aim for the left center of the green at No. 12, where the margin for error is greater. Of course, the pin is always cut on the right side on Sunday, but most feel that going for it is not worth the risk.

  A good game plan has to be flexible for holes like this. You can’t plan on the club to use until you have a chance to assess the wind. (Of course, No. 12 is a great hole because it’s so hard to figure out what the wind is doing.) When Tom Kite plans his Masters round, he will typically decide to use a 6-iron or a 7-iron at No. 12, depending on the wind. The important thing to plan on here is making a decisive club selection when the time comes. Once you make up your mind, you have to believe in your decision.

  Good golf courses like Augusta National are full of sucker pin placements analogous to the right-side position on No. 12. A good player learns to resist them. A few years ago, when the PGA Championship was being played at Shoal Creek, I was walking during a practice round with Tom Kite and Gary Player. They got to the 16th, a fairly long par three with a big green shaped liked a distended kidney. The closer section of the kidney was reasonably wide and accommodating, but the far section was very tight, guarded by sand and heavy rough. It was obvious that when the tournament started, particularly during the closing rounds, the pin would be cut in the far section and that a lot of bogeys would be made there by players trying to reach that flag with a long iron.

  “I don’t care where they put the pin,” Player told his partners. “I’m aiming right there.” And he pointed to the fat part of the green. As it turned out, he played that hole in two under par for the tournament, better than virtually everyone else in the fi
eld. He made one birdie by holing a 90-foot putt that rolled partly through the fringe. Player had, as he usually does, a smart game plan. He played conservatively and carried a cocky putter.

  The weekend player’s plan for No. 12 at Augusta will be the same as the professional’s, except perhaps for club selection. The hole really doesn’t offer much choice. But there are longer par threes on other courses that do.

  The most famous example is No. 16 at Cypress Point, which plays 220 or 230 yards from tee to green, almost all of it over the Pacific Ocean. Examining the hole backward shows an alternative route. Aim at the hulk of a dead cypress tree well to the left of the green, and the carry over the water is only 140 yards to a broad fairway. A reasonable 7-iron (assuming the wind is not blowing in your face) will leave a simple pitch of 60 or 70 yards to the green.

  Which route would you take? It depends, of course, on your game. If you had a dependable club that could carry 220 yards, even into the wind, you would go for the green. But as Allister Mackenzie knew well when he designed Cypress Point, most amateurs don’t consistently carry the ball that far. A lot of them might think they do, but they’re probably confusing carry with total driving distance, which includes roll. And the penalty for hitting a little short at No. 16 is severe. The ball bounces off the cliff on the far side of the inlet and becomes a toy for the seals. You’re still on the tee, preparing to hit your third shot.

  I’m certainly not going to tell players fortunate enough to get a chance to play Cypress Point that they should not pull out their drivers or 3-woods and have a go at No. 16. But if they played the course frequently, or in competition, the intelligent plan for a lot of them would be to aim for the dead cypress tree and the fairway to the left of the green and take the safe route, playing for a possible par and a fairly certain bogey. This is not negative thinking. It’s honest thinking. If you honestly assess your game and determine that you will hit the 7-iron successfully nine out of ten times and hit the driver to the green one time in ten, the risk-reward calculation is obvious. It would only be negative thinking if you then let yourself lose confidence in your ability to hit the 7-iron.

  Your course might have an analogous, if less spectacular, long par three. There might be out-of-bounds markers running down one side of the hole. There might be a pond or creek in front of the green. In such cases, the smart game plan for a weekend player could be to lay up with a medium iron, pitch onto the green, and take double-bogey or triple-bogey out of the equation. On the other hand, if the hole is wide open, the smart plan might be to bang away with the driver. The point is to think about these things ahead of time, when you can make your decision coldly and rationally.

  NO. 13 AT Augusta, at 485 yards, is probably the toughest short par five the touring pros will see all year. I’ve never told a player whether his game plan should have him go for a par-five green in two or not. It’s a decision that the individual has to make, based on the hole and the strengths and weaknesses of his own game. Some players hit long irons exceptionally well. Others don’t. The length of the tee shot obviously plays a critical role. Most professionals’ game plans for par fives establish a threshold distance. If their second shot would be shorter than, say, 230 yards, they go for it. If it is longer, they lay up.

  In general, on par-five decisions, I tell players to ask themselves whether the risks they are taking in trying to reach the green in two are worth the reward. If the second shot misses the green, can it go out of bounds or into a water hazard? Or is a greenside bunker the worst penalty the course is likely to exact for a miss? I hate bumping into a player after a round and hearing him say, “God, if I had just not double-bogeyed that par five, I’d be leading.” Players who carefully balance risk against reward rarely have to say that. For a professional, a birdie is or should be almost as likely from a comfortable lay-up position as it is from a spot on the edge of the green, 40 feet from the hole.

  That’s the calculation Chip Beck made in the 1993 Masters on another par five, No. 15. I had worked with Chip for four or five years, although we had stopped some time before this tournament. Chip has a great attitude toward the game and its adversities.

  I have told him, as I tell all the players I work with, to be prepared for second-guessing. I learned playing quarterback for my high-school football team that if you call an audible and it works, fans and writers call you a genius. If it fails, they call you a dope. You have to know yourself well enough to shrug off either appellation. If Chip had gone for the green in two, sunk the eagle putt, and won the tournament, the writers and the television commentators would have canonized him. And if he hit a wood into the water or plugged it into the lip of the bunker on the right, they would have said that he got impatient and lost his composure. I tell players not to let this kind of baloney, whether positive or negative, surprise, disturb or gratify them. They should accept the fact that it comes with the territory for a contender in major championships. They should be glad that they’re in that territory.

  Chip was obviously very close to his threshold distance on No. 15 that Sunday. His lie was not helpful. It was downhill, on the back side of a mound, which makes it harder to control the ball. The pin was back right, meaning that if he managed to get the ball over the pond and into the bunker on the right, he’d still very likely make only a par. So he chose to lay up. It was not that he wanted to settle for par and protect second place. He wanted the birdie. He just calculated that he had a better chance to make it using his wedge and putter. As it happened, he made par.

  But, Chip made the right decision, despite what you might have heard from your newspaper’s golf expert or the sports maven on the eleven o’clock news. If his wedge shot had landed a few feet shorter and he had made his birdie, those same people would have been saying what a great course manager he was and praised his patience.

  Anyone who doubted Chip’s nerve had obviously forgotten what happened on No. 13 a few minutes earlier. He hit a beautiful wood over Rae’s Creek and into the green, stopping 25 feet away. Bernhard Langer then hit a 3-iron a foot inside him, with the same line. Chip’s eagle putt lipped out. Langer, able to study the line and speed by watching Chip’s ball, made his three.

  That and a few other putts like it made the difference in the tournament. Langer’s went in and Chip’s didn’t.

  With all that said, No. 13 is short enough so that virtually everyone in the Masters field can reach it in two, given a decent drive. Standing on the green and looking backward helps plan how to do it. The first thing you notice is Rae’s Creek, winding down the left side of the fairway and curling in front of the green. Then you notice the steep cant of the fairway in the area from which the second shot is likely to be played. The ball will be well above the golfer’s feet on that shot, which may make it harder for him to hold the green. After looking at the hole this way, a lot of smart players decide not to flirt with the water on the left and to play a little right instead, toward where the spotters usually stand on this hole. The temptation on the tee is to try to burn the drive down the left side and draw it. You can set up a very short second shot this way, but you can also get into a lot of trouble.

  For a professional, the most important thing for both the tee shot and the second shot is being decisive. He must pick a target, pick a club, and believe in both. I spend a lot of time prior to the Masters with my players’ caddies. I tell them to support whatever club decision their players make, not allowing any doubts to slip out. In other words, if the player stands in the fairway at No. 13 and says 4-iron, and the caddie thinks the 3-iron would be better, I want the caddie to say that 4-iron is exactly what he was thinking.

  For the weekend player, this kind of consideration is largely irrelevant. Even if he busts his drive 250 yards, he’s still looking at a 235-yard approach over Rae’s Creek. He’s better off thinking about the distance from which his third shot will be most comfortable. In a lot of cases, this will not mean laying up close to the creek. It will mean laying up well back of the cr
eek, leaving a full wedge shot in. And that raises the issue of what to hit off the tee, just as it did on No. 10. In a lot of cases, amateurs would be better off hitting a 3-wood or a long iron rather than reflexively pulling out the driver. This applies to many par fives played from the white tees, in the range of 470—520 yards. Unless a player can realistically plan on reaching the green in two, what’s the point of hitting a driver?

  Weekend players generally would do well to spend time practicing with a long iron or fairway wood until they have a club they know they can hit 200 yards into the fairway. It will make the game a lot easier for them.

  PROBLEMS OF STRATEGY at Amen Corner, as on any good course, require detailed knowledge of yardages to solve. In recent years, with more courses posting yardages on sprinkler heads in the fairway, amateurs have tended to become complacent about yardages, figuring that there will always be a nearby sprinkler head to tell them the distance left to the middle (or front, depending on the course) of the green. That’s true, as far as it goes. But sprinkler heads and 150-yard markers won’t give a golfer many of the distances he needs. Only walking the course and annotating your own scorecard will do that, and when I talk to professional or college players, I stress the necessity of doing so.

  On many holes, for instance, you need to know the precise distance between the tee and a particular hazard like a tree, trap or creek, or to the corner of a dogleg. On par fives, you need to take into account the distance from points in the tee-shot landing area to the ideal lay-up position. Unless you know these distances, you will face an extra and unnecessary element of doubt as you prepare to hit your shots. And doubt is the last thing you want floating through your mind as you prepare to hit the ball.