The Art of Putting

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The Art of Putting Page 6

by Stan Utley


  you struggle with that early on in this process, using a mix of your old stroke and the new one we’re

  working on. A physical therapist explained to me that our bodies fall into a physical pattern when we

  perform a certain movement time after time—like putting the wrong way—and it’s hard to break that

  pattern. My job is to help you do that demolition work—to build a set of positive, solid fundamentals

  to replace the old habits. Some players I work with can change their pattern in twenty minutes or so. It

  might take you a day or a week, but it’ll certainly happen. We can all create the change given the right

  information and a little encouragement.

  We’ve covered mechanics and stroke pretty thoroughly, but I think the “art” of putting covers

  something more than just physical stuff. People ask me all the time, “What do good putters do, and what do they think?” Sure, the technical aspect of putting is part of being great—I can’t think of an

  all-time great with terrible mechanics, or a stroke that wasn’t repeatable. But good putters also have

  this attitude about what they do. They have confidence that they’re good, and that they’re going to

  make the next putt, even if the last one did a 180-degree horseshoe and stayed out. We’re going to talk

  more about that in Chapters 6 and 7. Here, I want to talk about some of the great putters I’ve seen,

  both from a mechanical and confidence perspective.

  If I were making a list of the best putters of all time, the guys on it would all have good

  technique, but they certainly wouldn’t have identical strokes. Jack Nicklaus was the absolute best—

  nobody made more putts with big tournaments on the line. Did he look relaxed and in the flow like a

  Ben Crenshaw or a Brad Faxon? No—he got into that familiar crouch, kept everything still and

  basically pistoned his right elbow to make the stroke. He had a very repeatable stroke, even if it had

  some unique things about it. More than anything, Jack had an incredible intensity about his putting. He

  was tremendously focused, and spent a lot of time analyzing his line. That might not be the best

  method for some guys, but it fit with the way he played the game. And he made a lot of putts. There’s

  a generation of players from about 1965 to 1980 that would give Jack the nod if it ever came down to

  picking a guy to make a putt to save your life. He’d put a good stroke on it, and you know the pressure

  wouldn’t get to him.

  I heard Jack say recently that he never missed a short putt he needed to win a tournament. It’s

  just a given in a long tournament career like his that he missed some here and there. As good as he

  was, nobody is perfect. But he really believes that he didn’t miss any big ones, and I think that’s

  because he was so strong mentally that he has blocked out those negative memories. It was one more

  thing that helped him to be completely focused on the putt he had in front of him—not on something

  that happened yesterday or last week.

  Guys like Crenshaw and Faxon are at the other end of the spectrum, both in terms of stroke and

  intensity level. Both guys are really artists—lots of graceful flow and pure athletic ability in the

  stroke. They have such good strokes that it looks like the ball can’t help but go in, and they also have

  the confidence to trust their strokes and let it go. I really learned a lot by watching both of those guys

  —not so much from their technique, but from their approach. Ben Crenshaw has mastered getting out

  of the way of his athletic ability and trusting his reads. Faxon has so much confidence in his stroke

  that he almost doesn’t have to practice. Watching either of them is like watching a really talented

  musician play up on stage.

  Tiger Woods falls somewhere in the middle—he has what I call a very efficient stroke, with

  great fundamentals, but with the intensity and focus Jack had. If you look at the guys who are

  considered good putters on tour now, Tiger is the guy who has the skill, but also backs it up by doing

  it consistently under pressure. Tiger’s mechanics might not look as graceful as Faxon’s, but I wouldn’t

  put Brad or myself on the line under pressure instead of Tiger. He stands over big-time Augusta ten-

  footers with a foot of break as though he’s playing a practice round at Isleworth. Of course, it’s a bit

  of a self-fulfilling prophecy—Tiger has lots more chances to hit pressure putts because he hits it and

  putts it so well in the first place. All of that big-moment experience gives him such an advantage

  compared to a lot of guys on tour. They’re standing over five-footers thinking about what it would be

  like to win a major for the first time. He’s standing over the same putt thinking about nothing but

  making it. And if he doesn’t make that one, he’s completely convinced he’ll make the next one. That’s

  a rare, rare skill.

  It’s impossible to overestimate how important attitude is to putting. I know for a fact that I miss

  putts even when I’m making a great stroke if my attitude is bad. If I stand over the ball resigned to the

  fact that I’m probably not going to make it, I won’t unless it happens by accident. It’s incredible how

  much of an impact your mindset can have. Even when I have a day where it’s hard to see the line, or I

  just don’t feel right, I can stand over the putt and trust my stroke. My goal here is to give you the

  foundation of putting-stroke repeatability. That’s really the secret to building confidence—feeling like

  you’re doing something on purpose with your putting stroke. Learning the mechanics and stroke in this

  book will help you feel like you can do the same thing with your putting stroke—and have a

  reasonable idea where the ball is going to go—time after time. Once that happens, you’ll start to

  experience something kind of cool. Instead of getting discouraged, you’ll be mad about missing putts

  you should have made. That’s part of the attitude I’m talking about. Guys like Brad Faxon really stand

  over putts thinking they’re going to make every one, and are honestly surprised when they miss, even

  though they totally understand the reality that they won’t all go in. You might not quite get to that point

  —after all, Brad’s about as good as you can get with the putter—but it’s a great goal to shoot for.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE PSYCHOLOGY OF PUTTING

  Tour players spend hours every week working on the fundamentals we’ve been talking about over

  the last few chapters, making sure they’re comfortable with the stroke and getting ready to take it out

  on the course for competition. If you have decided to make some changes to your own stroke, you’ll

  be doing the same thing on the practice green, hitting putts and experimenting with the things I’ve been

  talking about, finding out if they will work for you.

  But the practice green is different from the first green in a real round of golf—whether you’re

  playing in the B-flight of your club championship or trying to win a professional tournament. The

  psychology of putting is all about getting your real-world putting stroke to look as close to your

  pressure-free practice green stroke as possible, and keeping it that way when the stakes are high. It’s

  about understanding that a good stroke is the best you can do, and accepting whatever happens after

  that as a part of the game.

  You’re probably thinking to yourself right now, “Wait a second. Isn’t putting all about
making

  more putts?” Yes and no. When I’m standing over a ten-footer for birdie, I’m definitely intending to

  make it. But I also know there are factors I can’t control in the process. I could roll the ball perfectly,

  and a dent in the green could throw it off line. I’ve hit plenty of putts that have been—believe it or not

  —blown off line by the wind. If you set up a machine to roll ten identical twenty-foot putts along the

  ideal line at the ideal speed, one or two of them wouldn’t go in, just because of those imperfections.

  If the sole measuring stick of your putting stroke is the number of putts you make, you’re going to

  have some very frustrating days. You can hit great putts that just don’t go in. You can also stroke the

  ball poorly on some days and slam them in off the back of the cup or bounce them in off a spike mark.

  It’s dangerous to get too caught up in either kind of day. On the day you’re stroking it good but not

  making them, it’s tempting to start monkeying with your stroke to try to make things happen. That’s

  how putting slumps get started. I work with plenty of tour players who are struggling with their putting

  simply because they just got away, bit by bit, from the solid fundamentals they used to have. And

  when you’re hitting it poorly but making them, it’s easy to get overconfident and miss the signals that

  you should be spending more time on the practice green.

  My treatment for the psychological ups and downs players inevitably go through in putting is to

  relegate the idea of making putts to secondary importance in the sequence of things to worry about in

  the pre-putt routine. When I look back on my own professional career, I see a common thread among

  the four professional events I won, and it stands out like a giant, glowing marker. Three of the four

  times I won a tournament, I had recently had a conversation with Dr. David Cook, my sports

  psychologist and good friend. I was really focused on process, not outcome.

  One of the main things David has taught me over the years is the idea that you need to immerse

  yourself in the process of hitting the putt, not the outcome of the putt itself or the consequences of it.

  That means building a physical and psychological routine that you go through for every putt that starts

  from the time you finish your read and ends when the ball leaves the putter. If you’ve done the first

  part right, you’re really just a spectator for the second part. I know my stroke is good, and if I can put

  myself in position to make that good stroke time after time, I’m going to make my share of putts.

  Dr. Cook’s technique has two major advantages. First, it helps depressurize the entire putting

  experience. I don’t care if you’re playing a $2 Nassau with your friends or trying to make a putt to

  win a match in the club championship—you’re going to be faced with a nerve-wracking putt. It’s part

  of the game, and it’s what makes this game great. The more you can immerse yourself in a process-

  focused pre-shot and putting routine, the more you can distract your mind from the consequences of

  making or missing and concentrate on making a good stroke.

  The second advantage is that it helps smooth out the peaks and valleys in your overall putting

  performance. If you’ve missed a batch of makeable putts early in a round, it’s very, very easy to get

  discouraged and stand over the rest of your putts that day with some seriously negative thoughts. And

  trust me, if you don’t think you’re going to hit a good putt, you’re almost always going to be right.

  Focusing on the process instead of the result liberates you from beating yourself up about something

  you can’t control, and lets you make a much more realistic assessment of your performance.

  Sounds great, you say. But how do I do it? It doesn’t take anything more than concentration and

  practice—you don’t need any other special skills. It starts with building a checklist to follow before

  you make every single putting stroke. How dedicated you are to following this checklist will

  determine how consistent your results will be because of it. Dr. Cook broke the checklist down into

  five parts for me, and I’ve found that it works very well. After observing the situation and deciding on

  your strategy, you then do three things over the stroke—See it, Feel it and Trust it.

  First, observe the situation and come up with your strategy. Are you looking at a sixty-footer

  with ten feet of break? Would a lag up to three or four feet be a great effort? Is it a fifteen-footer

  straight up the hill that you can be a little more aggressive with? Your green reading (I’ll show you

  how to read putts in the next chapter) and strategy process should happen very early, before you’re

  even thinking about stroke.

  See It: Once you’ve committed to that strategy, get into your putting setup and make your

  practice stroke. Take the read you’ve just made and try to visualize the curving line your ball will

  actually take, and then the ball rolling along that line. It definitely takes a lot of discipline to do it on

  every single putt, but as it becomes an ingrained part of your process, you’ll be able to block out

  distractions by immersing yourself in the routine. I can tell you from personal experience that when

  you’re coming down the stretch and trying to win a tournament, the adrenaline gets pumping and

  everything starts to speed up. It’s easy to lose control. Having a routine to go through before you putt

  slows things down and restores your comfort level.

  Feel it: Once I finish visualizing the path I want my ball to roll on, I plug in one or two of the

  swing thoughts I’m playing with on that day. What is a swing thought, and how do I pick one? Good

  question. It depends. In the process of learning the stroke I teach, you’re going to come up with an

  array of thoughts and feels that help you roll the ball well. Every day I play, I’m applying one or two

  of those thoughts and feels as the swing key for my stroke. The thought or feel might feel great for two

  or three days, then start to lose its effectiveness, and then it’s time to plug in another one. One day, I

  might be thinking about rotating the putter with my left forearm to start the putter back. Another time,

  I’m thinking about moving my left shoulder around toward my chin. I’m physically doing the same

  thing with my stroke every time. I’m just using a different thought to trigger it. I’m definitely not

  standing over the ball with a blank mind, stroking the ball toward the hole. I’ve heard that a few

  people try to do that—go completely blank—but my mind doesn’t work that way. Keeping a single

  swing thought (or, at the most, two of them) in my head as I make the stroke reinforces my

  fundamentals and connects the psychological part of putting with the physical mechanics we’ve been

  talking about. It’s also a great way to keep little mechanical flaws from growing in your stroke. My

  caddie might notice that I’m picking my putter up a little bit on my backswing. My key for that day

  might be concentrating on keeping the putter low, and my stroke is better for it.

  Trust it: The idea here is not to get overcome with the desire for the ball to go in the hole.

  We’ve all been there: Standing over an eight-footer that just has to go in. That desire can easily get in

  the way of a good stroke in the form of anxiety. By trusting your stroke, you’re deciding to give the

  best effort you can on the mechanics and
let the rest just happen. Measure yourself by the mechanics

  of the stroke, and if you do the mechanical things well, you’re going to make some putts. The whole

  “Trust it” idea also enforces a kind of honesty about your putting game. If you go through the entire

  routine I’ve been talking about and, in the end, trust your stroke, you’re going to know pretty quickly if

  you’ve done enough work on the practice green to develop fundamentally sound mechanics. Poor

  contact on the toe or heel and bad misses aren’t going to make you very happy, but you can use that

  feedback to get better.

  Does all this mean that you’re going to be perfectly consistent with the putter? No, we’re not

  machines, and we all go through hot and cold streaks. But having a process helps you understand

  when and why a streak—hot or cold—is happening, and what to do about it.

  The hottest putting streak I had in my career is so vivid in my mind. It’s like I was making the

  putts yesterday. It coincided with the week I won the Louisiana Open Nationwide Tour event in 1995.

  When I went through that visualization process I just described, the lines looked so obvious, and my

  stroke was pure. When those two things come together, look out. You’ll make them all. It’s called

  catching a case of the drains.

  On Sunday that week in Lafayette, I was eight shots behind going into the final round. The wind

  was blowing so hard that I couldn’t even wear a hat. In those conditions, I went out and shot a course-

  record 62 and made every single putt I looked at—from forty-footers on down. I made ten birdies and

  had something like twenty-two putts for the day, and ended up beating Keith Fergus by two shots.

  Ultimately, when you get in the “zone” like that, your own success is what jars you out of it. You start

  to notice all the putts going in, and even if you try to get out of the way and just let it happen, you start

  to get tight thinking about trying to make the next one. The streak takes on a life of its own.

  The streaks of misses are obviously a little tougher to deal with than when you’re draining them

 

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