Chris Zelkovich (crouching) with coach Bradlee Ryall, Head Teaching Professional, The Academy at BraeBen
Life, like golf, can play tricks on you. Life and golf, well, they can really mess you up.
For example, take a task that sounds tedious and boring enough to make a Senate ways and means committee debate seem exciting by comparison. Let's say that task is working on your putting game.
Then you get out on the practice green and, to your surprise, you discover that it's even more tedious and boring than you ever imagined.
Such is my fate following the first hands-on lesson of my personal Mission Impossible to break 80.
After much studying and analyzing the statistical and visual evidence of my golfing flaws - and possibly after some required self-medication - BraeBen Academy director Bradlee Ryall decided that the best way to set me on my journey was with a putter in my hand.
"Improving your putting is the best way to help you score better," he told me as we headed toward the practice green. "When we're finished, I want you to be excited about getting to the green."
If the practice green is any indication, my man Bradlee may have grandchildren by the time that happens.
As anyone who has ever looked at a golf magazine, book or video knows, putting is probably the most complicated part of the game. The people who designed the Mars rover have less to think about than the average golfer does on the green, at least if you believe those books and videos.
Geez, Dave Pelz's Putting Bible has more pages than the actual Bible and only slightly fewer references to eternal damnation.
But my man Bradlee aims to simplify it all.
One way is using your body instead of your eyes to read greens, he told me. The eyes can fool you he tells me, but the feet never lie.
He showed me how to stand by the ball and close my eyes. After a few seconds, even I could tell which way the green is tilting. Assuming I don't nod off while finding the slope, this should work.
Another way of simplifying things is basically to simplify the way I hit the ball. You see, as incontrovertible evidence from the TaylorMade performance lab and Ryall's own iPhone showed, there's far too much going on in my putting stroke.
It has more moving parts than a Rihanna video.
My head moves early, my shoulders follow my head, my arms bend seemingly in two directions simultaneously and my hips sway the way they should but never do on the dance floor.
Apparently, this is not good.
The worst part is that I had no idea I was doing the golf version of the blue-footed booby mating dance. I thought I was more immobile than the Leafs defence.
So, the first step is to stop all the motion. My man Bradlee and TaylorMade's Cameron Jacobs both gave me a great tip for practising this: place the ball on top of a quarter without looking at the coin. Before you watch your putt, make sure you can read the date on the coin.
Of course, you can't unless you're Superman, but it seemed like a better idea than what I imagined: running electrodes from a car battery to your forehead.
By trying to focus on something so tiny, you'll make sure you don't move your head.
Or so you'd think.
On my first practice session, I concentrated solely on keeping my eyes fixed on the coin. Though seldom amazed at the thickness of my skull when it comes to merging mind and body, I couldn't believe how difficult this was.
After about 40 strokes, I think I finally accomplished keeping my eye on the Queen instead of the ball. Or maybe I fell asleep from sheer boredom and only dreamed that I did.
In this case, the car battery might have got quicker results.
The worst part is that this isn't over, not by a long shot. Golf Canada chief sport officer Jeff Thompson told me before I took on this project that I should commit to at least four hours practice a week, in addition to at least one round of golf. (Sport officer's orders, I keep telling my wife.)
My man Bradlee agrees, though isn't so cruel as to prescribe four hours of putting balls off coins.
During my first practice, I also concentrated on keeping my shoulders and hips still, which may be more boring than looking at a quarter. Like the coin exercise, this turned out to be much easier said than done.
I also worked on ball speed, hitting to a tee placed one foot behind the hole. I hit dozens of shots from three feet, adding a new dimension to boredom, and from 30 feet.
The objective was to get the long putts within three feet and make the three-footers automatic.
Again, the brain and body did not always work in tandem.
That's one reason why I considered taking a bus home instead of driving.
PROGRESS UPDATE: The rain played havoc with my golf schedule, though I did manage a driving-range session on trying to hit up instead of down with my driver. As Ryall instructed, I placed my front foot several inches behind the ball to almost force an up-stroke. Maybe it was new R11 driver designed to draw the ball or maybe the exercise even worked, but I did hit better drives than I have in some time. Of course, being as insane as most hackers, I left the range convinced that I had found the secret.
PREVIOUSLY:
Nothing easy about my swing
The Cadillac of golf testing facilities
First date jitters
Miracle worker or victim No. 5
Getting to the root of my rot
Why doesn't golf love me back?
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Chris Zelkovich has accomplished many things in a journalism career that has spanned almost 40 years. He has worked as a reporter, editor and columnist for a variety of newspapers and his work has appeared in several magazines. His 12 years in golf have been somewhat less distinguished.
Bradlee Ryall is a Class 'A' member of the CPGA and Director of Instruction for the Braeben Academy. Nominated for the Ontario PGA Teacher of the Year award in 2009, Bradlee has studied and trained with some of the best golf instructors in the world at the David Leadbetter Golf Academies and served as teaching professional at some of the greatest golfing destinations in the world including the Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge in Alberta, Canada.