I went to the practice range this morning, to work with the driver a bit. My
irons have been working well, but drives still tend to go...anywhere. I experimented with various things, but didn't feel I was making progress. I wasn't swinging outside in, but I still wasn't squaring up the club, it seems.
I got a soda and when I got back, there was this guy standing around. He was a skinny guy, with a couple days' growth of whiskers, matted hair that looked like he had slept in the parking lot, disheveled clothes, and a cigarette hanging from his lip. He said to me "Imagine how that ball would go if you hit it square."
I said, "Well, yeah."
He said, "You'd have better luck if you slow it down. Show me your slow motion swing."
I did that, and he said "You call that slow motion? I mean like this.." and he picked up my club, put a ball on the tee, and took a long slow swing and hit it about 250 yards. Then he said "Try that."
So I did. I hit a straight ball, about 230, carry.
He said, "Your swing ain't bad, but you sure need to slow it way down. Even that one was a little quick, but it wasn't bad."
So I did a few more, and he said, "Slower."
I swung like I was underwater, or so it felt. Another straight shot...farther this time. A few more, and I was out of balls. The guys said to me, "Well if you ever want a lesson just let me know, I'll help you out."
I asked for his card or number or something, and he fumbled around and said, "Well you can find me here most days." I realized he probably doesn't have a phone.
So that was my lesson from what appeared to be a homeless golf instructor.