One of the commonest of the many excuses advanced for missing one's drive is, "I lifted my eye." If the player only knew it he could lift his eye with impunity. That is not what matters. It was lifting his head which caused the trouble.

"Keep your eye on the ball" is, without question, the soundest of sound golf maxims, but it is both abused and misused. We need not waste time arguing the question as to whether or not keeping one's eye on the ball at the moment of impact is absolutely essential to success in driving. Every golfer knows that for all purposes of practical golf one absolutely must keep one's eye on the ball, and that to do any other thing with the eyes at the moment of striking the ball is, to put it mildly, quite inconvenient.

The trouble in connection with lifting one's eye is that one's eyes are in one's head. The seat of the machinery which works the golf drive is in the same place. If one relaxes for a moment the mental effort which has to be made whilst the golf stroke is being executed, the eyes quite naturally wander in the direction in which the ball is about to go. That in itself would not be so bad. The eyes unfortunately do not wander without carrying the head with them. The head is attached to the portion of the body where, roughly speaking, the centre of the swing is situated. Immediately the head moves, the centre of the circle, if it may for purposes of illustration be so called, is affected. Hopeless inaccuracy is the result. It is a matter of the most vital importance in golf that the eyes must not move. Keeping the eyes in the one position from the moment when one has finally addressed the ball until the moment of impact practically ensures the proper management of one's weight; for it stands to reason that if the eyes do not move it is impossible for the head to move, and if the head does not move it will be impossible to sway, and therefore to get the weight on to the right leg at the top of the swing, as do so many golfers who follow the misleading directions given with regard to the distribution of weight in the golf drive.

Keeping one's head perfectly still is a matter of far greater importance than keeping one's eye on the ball; for it will be obvious that it is quite possible for a golfer, after having taken his address, to keep his eye on the ball until he has driven it, but he may in the meantime have lifted his head three or four inches. Lifting his head three or four inches will not have caused him to take his eye off the ball for an instant, but it will have been sufficient to have ruined his drive. Therefore, we see that the really important thing is to keep one's head and eyes in the same position for the impact as they were at the moment of address. When I say the same position it is manifest that there will be a fractional alteration, but it must be the aim of the scientific golfer to have his eyes, at the moment of impact, almost exactly in the same position as they were at the moment of address.

Keeping one's eyes steady in this manner means, as has already been pointed out, that one preserves the centre, if it may be so called, of the swing much better than if one allows one's weight to move from one leg to the other. Preserving the centre of the swing in this manner means that the rhythm of the swing must be very much better than if it has a moving "centre." A moving centre must import into the stroke of any golfer far greater inaccuracy than there would be if his centre had remained constant, as it will do if he keeps his head in the same place.

Some time ago a good professional golfer asserted that the well-known maxim "Keep your eye on the ball" was a delusion, and that it was possible to play perfectly good golf blindfolded, provided one had first taken one's stance and judged one's swing at the ball. In due course a match was arranged between this professional, blindfolded, and an amateur, and the professional was very badly beaten, as he did not, I believe, win a single hole. This result naturally tended to discredit his ideas very considerably.

As a matter of practical golf, what he wished to establish is perfectly correct. Although "Keep your eye on the ball" is the soundest of sound practical golf, it is to a very large extent preached in a manner which is in itself entirely fallacious—for two reasons: Firstly, the player is told that it is absolutely essential to his stroke that he must keep his eye on the ball up to the moment of impact, and not only must he keep it there until the moment of impact, but that he should keep on gazing at the turf where the ball had lain after the ball has gone on its way.

Now our professional golfer, who essayed the task of playing blindfolded golf, was perfectly correct in stating that it is not necessary to keep one's eye on the ball in playing golf, for the simple reason that the eye has fulfilled its function and has gone out of business, so far as regards that stroke, long before the head of the club has come into contact with the ball. It is this fact which makes us so prone to lift our eyes, and with them our heads, which of course is fatal to good golf. I go so far as to say that if Vardon in his drive could be automatically blindfolded when his club was two feet from his ball, and that he could accustom himself to keeping his head still after he was blindfolded, it would not affect his drive in the slightest degree, for the very simple and all-sufficient reason that the eye has finished its function in connection with the golf stroke for a very considerable period before impact takes place. It has assisted the golfer to take his proper stance and address, and has aided him in judging his distance, but the arc of the golf stroke is practically settled almost from the instant that it starts on its downward path.

The duration of impact in a drive at golf has been measured by the most competent authority to be one ten-thousandth of a second. Photographs of the impact of the golf club with the golf ball taken at the one twelve-hundred-and-fiftieth of a second, are merely blurs. There is no clear definition of the club whatever. We can see from this that the rate of speed at which the golf club is travelling is extreme, even had we not the scientific measurement of the exact amount of time consumed during the contact. It will be obvious to a very ordinary understanding that when a club is travelling at this terrific pace it would be impossible for anyone to impart into the line of travel of the club head a new direction at, say, two feet from the ball, without ruining both the force and the direction of the ball. Therefore, it is evident that if one could close one's eyes when the club head was two feet from the ball and still keep one's head in exactly the same position, the impact would be practically not affected at all.

This is the undoubted fact in so far as regards the work of the eye. It fulfils its duty very early in the stroke; but although the explanation of the function of the eye is so incorrectly given, still "Keep your eye on the ball" is, and ever will be, a sound golfing maxim, for it is not given to golfing man to be able to lift his eye and at the same time to keep his mind concentrated on his stroke, and to keep his head in the same place as it was in when he addressed his ball. Therefore, although it is not so absolutely necessary to keep one's eye on the ball as is generally laid down, it is expedient to preach to the fullest extent and to insist on what Harry Vardon calls "the parrot cry of the links."

Most writers who deal with the matter of keeping one's eye on the ball are not satisfied with exhorting the player to keep his eye on the ball until after the moment of impact; they go further still and insist upon the fact that he must continue to gaze at the piece of turf whereon the ball lay, long after the ball has departed to the hole. This, again, is an absolute fallacy. It is only excusable on the principle that the greater includes the less, and that by insisting on one gazing at the turf long after the ball has sped on its way, one may be able to make the player do what he should do, and that is just to keep his eye on the ball until the moment of impact, for if we follow the advice given by many notable men of continuing to gaze at the turf after the ball has been driven, there can be no doubt whatever that we do much to spoil the rhythm and effectiveness of the drive.

To preserve these we have been told that the head must be kept immovable throughout the golf drive, and that one must keep one's eye on the ball until it has been driven, and on the place where it was after it has been driven. However, following Vardon's explanation of the drive and taking what we know of this stroke ourselves, it will be remembered that at the moment of impact, "simultaneously," Vardon says, the body moves down the line of flight to the hole. It follows, therefore, that if one continues turf-gazing after one has hit the ball, that one's body is going on its way towards the hole whilst one's head is being held backward in the opposite direction to the travel of the body. This is absolutely bad golf, and Vardon does not do this himself.

The truth with regard to the proper management of the eye in the golf stroke is that it should move simultaneously with the ball, for if there be any attempt whatever to drive the ball and to keep the head in the same position as it was at the moment of address, this will inevitably result in preventing the right shoulder getting through and the body following it as it ought to do, for a rigid head and neck will prevent any follow-through.

Vardon is very explicit about the value of timing the body so that it goes forward down the line of flight towards the hole at the moment the stroke is made. He shows us, as a matter of fact, that this forward movement is practically simultaneous with the impact of the club on the ball. It will be obvious, then, to anyone, that this turf-gazing after one has hit the ball, which is recommended by the leading authorities of the game, is absolutely bad golf, for it must inevitably interfere with the follow-through.

At page 174 of The Complete Golfer Vardon says:

Keep your eye on the ball until you have hit it, but no longer. You cannot follow through properly with a long shot if your eye remains fastened on the ground. Hit the ball and then let your eye pick it up in its flight as quickly as possible. Of course this needs skilful timing and management, but precision will soon become habitual.

It was by the merest chance that I saw this passage after I had written my chapter on "The Function of the Eyes," although I am now incorporating it herein.

I am very glad to have Vardon's authority to back me up in discrediting the silly idea about turf-studying; but although I have him with me I cannot hold him guiltless of spreading the error, for he has been photographed repeatedly illustrating it in a style which he never uses in actual play. This may be seen in the series of photographs in Fry's Magazine already referred to, and also at pages 89 and 97 of Great Golfers, wherein this great player is shown in positions which in actual play he would not understand how to get into; but people who know no better, and have not the real power of comparative analysis and close thinking, are led away and suffer for this kind of foolishness merely because it is associated with a great name.

PLATE VIII.

In connection with this matter of the function of the eye there is an interesting point which I have not seen mentioned in any golf book—a point which makes it, if anything, more necessary for one to insist upon the vast importance of the maxim "Keep your eye on the ball," although it is fallaciously preached both before and after impact. This point is that there is just before impact a very considerable portion of the travel of the head of the golf club during which the ball is practically never seen by the golfer. This is what I may call the golfer's "blind spot." It exists in practically all ball games where the ball is struck by a bat or other implement of that kind. Its existence, of course, is well known in cricket. I have played lawn-tennis for twenty years, and I do not believe that I have at any time during that period seen my racket hit the ball when actually playing. I have seen it do it when I have made up my mind to watch the ball and forget other matters, but in actual play one does not do this. One plays the stroke with the utmost naturalness. The ball is coming towards one and one gauges the distance and strikes. One knows that whatever happens one's stroke is made for good or ill, and there is in many strokes a blind spot of fully six to nine inches in length.

I have had some wonderful photographs of this blind spot wherein it is shown most clearly that the lawn-tennis player is looking right away from his ball long before he has struck it. I think it is beyond question that this same blind spot exists in golf. I have no doubt whatever that, perfect player as he is, there is in Harry Vardon's stroke a blind spot of at least five inches. Few people who have not studied this question can realise the incredible rapidity with which the head of a golf club travels. I am well aware that there are many photographs of Harry Vardon in existence, which show him carefully studying the turf after the ball has gone on its way. I am also well aware that these photographs were taken to illustrate the fact that he does engage in turf-studying after the ball has gone on its way. I am also well aware that in actual play he does nothing of the kind, and that his beautiful, free, and natural finish is as different from the stiff and constrained photographs shown when he does not lift his head, as chalk is from cheese.

I have watched Harry Vardon many and many a time, and I am absolutely certain that in his natural play he has no thought whatever in his mind of gazing at the turf after his ball has gone away. There is nothing whatever to be gained by doing so, and there is much to be lost. Any attempt whatever to anchor the head by gazing at the turf after the ball has gone away, and then afterwards to allow it to resume its place, together with the shoulders, in the swing of the follow-through, is mere futility, and must result in absolutely spoiling the rhythm of the swing and a proper follow-through.

There is no player in the world who could be taken as a finer example than Harry Vardon, of the fact that in the golf swing and at the moment of impact there must be no restraint whatever on the movement of the shoulders and the head. They must work together with the club head and the ball. If they do not all move at the same time something is out of gear.

In the game of blindfolded golf which I have referred to, the professional player took his stance, addressed his ball, and was then blindfolded with a handkerchief, an operation which naturally took some considerable time, but even as it was, he played some astonishingly good shots even when his whole swing was blindfolded. He should have had a pair of spectacles lined with cotton wadding or some similar material and fastened with an elastic band, which could have been lifted up whilst he was taking his address and closed down the moment he was ready to make his stroke. This would have given him a better chance to demonstrate what he desired to, which, as I have already said, was in itself practically sound.

I have spoken of Harry Vardon's blind spot, and I have said that it is a matter of five inches. As a matter of fact it may quite well often be double that; but it seems to me perfectly plain that nothing whatever that Vardon can do when his club is within a foot of the ball, so long as he keeps his head steady or still, is likely to alter the path of the club head—I am speaking now, of course, of any normal golf stroke. This consideration of the matter brings us back to the statement which I have made time and time again, and in which I am supported by James Braid, that once the golf stroke is commenced, the fact of it connecting with the ball is merely an incident in the path of the club head; and that after the club head has proceeded a certain distance on the way to the ball it is beyond the power of the player to alter the character of that stroke, for his force has been irretrievably directed, in so far as regards that particular stroke, in a particular manner.

Speaking of the position of the head in driving, Taylor says:

The head is maintained in exactly the same position as the arms are brought down again, and so it remains until the ball has been swept from the tee. The arms and body for all practical purposes go through the same action, but in the reverse way as in the upward swing, the body being held in a similar position, but with the head turned and eyes looking over the right shoulder at the finish of the stroke.

During the progress of this downward movement the weight of the body is again transferred, passing from the right leg to the left, until when the finish arrives the whole of the weight has been placed upon the left foot, while the right has assumed the position previously held by its neighbour.

We see here in a very marked degree the fallacy of the distribution of the weight so that at the top of the swing the greater portion of it is on the right leg; for Taylor, although he tells us that "the head is maintained in exactly the same position," says that "during the progress of this downward movement the weight of the body is again transferred, passing from the right leg to the left."

It is a very natural question for us to ask, "How can all this shifting of the body be going on if the head is to be kept perfectly still?" As a matter of fact it is a physical impossibility; and it is also obvious that it would be impossible to keep the head still, rigidly fixed, as we are told it should be, at the moment of impact, and yet to get a true follow-through.

Let us read a little farther on, and we see that Taylor says: "If the ball has been struck there must be no semblance of checking or snatching at the club. The player must not check himself or allow premonitory symptoms of a check to make themselves felt even in the slightest degree. He must allow the club head to follow the line of flight of the ball as straight and as far as is possible." It stands to reason that if one's head remains fixed for an instant after the impact of the club with the ball, that instant the club head must feel the tendency to be drawn out of the straight line to the hole, and the follow-through down the line to the hole, which is so properly insisted on by all great golfers, is ruined.

Taylor continues: "The arms must be thrown forward freely and naturally, and as a consequence the right shoulder must be allowed to swing forward too." This should effectually dispose of the idea of holding the head still after the ball has left the ground, for the simple reason that if the head and neck be held still, it will be a matter of utter impossibility for the right shoulder to go through and down the line to the hole as it should.

I must emphasise this matter a little more strongly by Taylor's own words, for it is of very great importance in the golf drive. Continuing, he says, in reference to the fact that the arms must be allowed to go forward freely and naturally and that therefore the right shoulder must be allowed to swing forward:

By doing this the involuntary checking of the swing is rendered impossible; but if arms and shoulders were to be held tightly under control and as rigid as steel, the stroke would be finished as soon as the head of the club had been brought into contact with the ball. Every stroke in golf must be played freely, every muscle of the body must be allowed to do its full share of the necessary work.

That is undoubtedly so; but if one arbitrarily fixes the position of one's head as a stationary point in the golf swing after the ball has gone on its journey, one prevents the right leg doing its share of the work in shifting the weight forward down the line towards the hole, and therefore one, to a very great extent, ruins one's follow-through. This is a point which, in my mind, is of very great importance to the drive, and it is, in so far as regards the function of the eyes, one of the most pronounced fallacies of the many fallacious statements with which unfortunate golfers are loaded.

This blind spot which I have referred to, exists, as I have already said, in practically every game wherein the ball is struck with an implement. It is found in lacrosse, racquets, tennis, cricket, lawn-tennis, polo, base-ball, hockey, ping-pong, and even in billiards; but the probability is that the farther the striking surface of the club or other implement is from the eye, the less is the blind spot; and this is very fortunate for the golfer, for his margin of error is so small that it is of great importance to him to reduce this blind spot to a negligible quantity. But on the other hand, as a matter of scientific and accurate golf, he will make nearly as great a mistake in his golf if, in his endeavour to follow out the well-known and useful maxim, "Keep your eye on the ball," he acquires the habit of turf-gazing after the ball has gone on its way to the hole.

I have before had occasion to refer to the book entitled The Mystery of Golf, and I have already, in part, touched upon some of the author's curious ideas with regard to the analysis of the golfing stroke. At page 159 he tells us that "the arms do not judge distance (save when we are actually touching something) nor does the body, nor does the head. The judging is done by the eyes." I am afraid that we cannot deny that the judging is, in all cases, done by the eye, because it is obvious that if we had not the use of our eyes, we should not be able to see the ball; but the author seems to overlook the somewhat important fact that although the arms do not judge distance, yet they measure it, and this matter of measurement is a matter of extreme importance, as is exemplified in the case of play out of a bunker where one has to measure the distance without grounding the club.

On the same page the author says: "If the eyes look up before the ball is hit, the muscles do not receive the proper orders to hit, and the most important part of the stroke is done blindly. That is my theory"; and a most remarkable theory it is too. The muscles received their proper orders to hit at the moment the stroke was begun, and lifting the eyes a moment before impact would not affect the stroke if the head remained in the same position. Lifting the eyes is in nearly every case, as I have already pointed out, an action following on lifting the mind. The mind has been allowed to come off the stroke because the player's mental picture of the stroke has been completed long before the physical act. In other words, he has got ahead of his stroke. Then his head comes up, which of course is fatal to good golf.

It is a very remarkable circumstance that the attempted analysis by the author of The Mystery of Golf shows clearly that he has entered upon his task with but a very faint idea of sport generally, and he is in this respect much handicapped in his efforts. Let us consider what he has to say with regard to lifting the eye in golf. We read on page 164:

I have sometimes thought that there are two simple and especial reasons for this difficulty of keeping one's eye on the ball: first, because there is nothing to stimulate the attention; second, because one has to attend so long. In cricket, tennis, racquets, as I have shown, the stimulus is extreme; by consequence, your eye follows the ball like a hawk. In billiards there is no stimulus, but you rarely, if ever, take your eye off your ball in billiards. Why? I think because (1) the ball is so near to the eye—and, therefore, the stimulus strong; (2) because the period of time requisite for the stroke is so short. In golf there is no stimulus and the period is always long: you have to look at your ball for more than the whole period of the upward and downward swings.

This remarkable statement shows very clearly, as I have before said, that the author is not practically acquainted with games generally, for lifting the eye is common in practically every game where a ball is used. And it is amazing to find anyone attempting to analyse such a stroke as the golf stroke and at the same time making the statement that "you rarely, if ever, take your eye off your ball in billiards"; and he proceeds to give reasons why one rarely takes one's eye off one's ball in billiards, whereas the game of billiards is an outstanding illustration of the fact that one does take one's eye off the ball. To a very great extent one plays one's stroke at billiards with a most pronounced blind spot every time, in that, just prior to the moment of striking the cue ball, one always looks at the object ball and practically one never sees one's cue on to one's own ball.

Also, it is open to doubt if the golf stroke takes, on the average, from the time the club leaves the ball in its upward swing until the moment of impact, any longer than the billiard player takes in playing his stroke. If it does, the difference is not a matter which need enter into any practical comparison of the strokes.

The curious thing is that in the game instanced by the author as possessing the greater stimulus, that is those games wherein the ball is moving, as in cricket, tennis, racquets, the tendency to lift the eye from the ball is much more pronounced than in those games where the ball is stationary, and this, I think, is by no means unnatural. The operation of the eye is incredibly swift. It catches the flight of the oncoming ball and one plays the stroke to meet it. In playing a stroke at a moving ball, it stands to reason that one has, all other things being equal, less time between the beginning of the stroke and impact than one would have in executing a similar blow where the ball is stationary, for here we have merely the pace of one moving object to deal with, whereas we have in the other case the pace of the two moving objects added together.

It seems to me clear, therefore, that the eye has been able to ascertain much more rapidly what will happen in the case of the two moving objects, and having decided definitely that the stroke must be played in a certain way, the mind has given to the muscles the necessary orders, and the eye has then gone out of business so far as regards that particular stroke, and we get the astonishing result that we find famous players at lawn-tennis playing their strokes with a blind spot of, in many cases, as much as nine inches. This is beyond the region of doubt, and can be proved to demonstration by numerous photographs, so it will be seen that even if there were anything whatever in the suggested comparisons, they are fundamentally unsound in their premises, and therefore absolutely useless for any purposes of practical golf.

We are told at page 166: "If you don't keep your eye on the ball, your stroke is cut short the moment you take your eye off." This is obviously an error. Let us imagine that the golfer has played his stroke perfectly accurately up to within three inches of his ball and then takes his eye away from it, will any practical golfer believe that if he keeps his head still the fact of moving his eye is going to alter that stroke in any way whatever? I think not.

Again we are informed at page 167 that: "It is at all events indisputable that any photograph showing a good follow-through shows the player looking at the spot where the ball was, after the ball had left it; proving that he was really looking at the ball when he hit." Personally, I may say that I have never yet seen a photograph of a good follow-through which did show the player looking at the spot where the ball was after the ball had left it, for photographs of that nature which I have seen showed most clearly that if one desires to absolutely prevent oneself from following through, one of the best methods of doing it is to cultivate the habit of studying the turf after the ball has gone on its way to the hole.

In this we know that we have Vardon entirely with us. His corroboration is valuable for the point is of great and practical importance to the game.