MyGreenJacket.com - A hacker's quest to play in the Masters

Learning to drive and learning golf are two different things, but you can combine them. Sort of.

Taking my driving test all over again – in my thirties – really got me thinking about the way we humans learn, and the way we perform tasks. With particular reference to golf.

For those who don’t know, one of the things I’ve been working on since throwing in the muddy golf towel is obtaining a truck driving licence. This plan all comes to a head this Thursday, when I take my test in the bus-infested, multi-hazard hell that is London.

Yes, this is still a golf blog…and I’ll get to the golf connection in a minute. Go with me.

So, anyone who drives a car will remember what it was like trying to learn. Doing everything consciously, having to think about where the gears are, reminding yourself to use the clutch, all that stalling. It was hideous, wasn’t it? But now, of course, you can pretty much drive in your sleep. You’ve almost certainly experienced arriving at work and remembering nothing about your journey. I know I have.

This doesn’t actually seem all that remarkable until you go for lessons in a completely different vehicle 15 years later. You have a head start in some respects – like knowing how to use a clutch – but you’re suddenly you’re dealing with a gear-change system that involves continuous switching from high to low range ratios. And, sure as anything, you’re fiddling and fumbling like a fiddling, fumbling thing. Unsightly and ungainly as Jim Furyk, but minus the accurate results.

It’s like time travel. You’re a goofy 17-year-old all over again, hacking away at the lever, instructor rolling his eyes and saying his prayers.

It’s having this experience AFTER you’ve done the driving-on-autopilot thing that really opens your eyes to how amazing our learning ability is. You’re getting a reminder of where you began. And you know that in time (please, God, before Thursday), you’ll be on autopilot in this vehicle too. But it’s still ever so hard to believe while you’re in this state of total cluelessness.

What’s especially remarkable is that just about all able-bodied humans seem able to go quickly from anarchic novice to doing everything automatically. It’s not just talented, clever people who can do it. Just try talking mathematical integrations down at your local truck stop if you don’t believe me. My point is that, like a child picking up language, we seem to be wired with a learning ability for this particular task.

Now, why can’t it be that easy for a golfer? On the face of it, dealing with ever-changing traffic conditions, an ever-changing rev count, ever-changing speed, unpredictable drivers, pedestrians and animals is a pretty complex task that should demand more attention than hitting a stationary ball to a stationary target with plenty of constant information to help you do so. Particularly given that death or serious injury is a risk on the road, not the golf course. Yet it’s the car, and not the golf ball, that we can drive without any fear of failure.

Getting my permit for one of these is hard...but golf's harder!

When we read coaching manuals or talk to coaches, especially the mind coaches, we are told that we should be trying to golf on a similarly automatic level. No matter how much work we do at the range, we should go onto autopilot when we’re over the ball.

Of course, most of us golfers cannot do this. Evidence would suggest that it’s one of the hardest things in the world to get right. And even if you do manage to slide into automatic mode on the golf course (as I did from time to time), the results can still be the equivalent of a nine-car pile-up with multiple fatalities.

Interesting, isn’t it? Is golf the odd task out, or is it driving? Well, learning to cycle seems to follow a similar pattern to learning to drive. At first you think it’s impossible, and fall on your face all day. And then, one magic moment, it clicks. And you never give technique a thought for the rest of your life. Same goes for learning how to type on a keyboard, teaching yourself the control buttons for your favourite PlayStation game, even reading for heaven’s sake! Slow, clumsy and entirely conscious going at first – and then suddenly you’ve got it forever. Even swimming is the same: some people may be scared to learn, but I don’t think it changes the fact that we all have a natural ability to swim – once we pass through that drunken-octopus learning phase.

Golf is never like this for anyone, except maybe some gifted pros. And even that is doubtful. Would Luke Donald or Rory McIlroy compare hitting a wedge to the middle of a green 120 metres away to riding a bicycle? Can they have entirely the same certainty of success? They could do it with their eyes closed, so maybe you can argue they do. But even if it’s true for them, we’re talking a tiny fraction of humankind – there’s little evidence that widespread hardwired golf learning ability exists for regular people.

Now that's what you call a driving lesson

Golf is quite unique amongst ball sports because there are no team-mates or opponents complicating what is a fundamentally pure task. Which is why, if you’d landed from Mars, you’d think it might be like balancing on a bike or hooking third gear with literally no thought.

But it’s not. I’m about to disappoint you with my conclusion, I think. Golf is a rotten old son of a so-and-so. Dangit! There you go. Now tell me what I’ve forgotten – let’s get some discussion going below!

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Great swing Louis, but what iron's that?

I have never claimed this to be an impartial website. It is without question the most proudly South African slice of golfing internet there is. So if you’ve heard enough about Bubba Watson since Sunday evening, keep reading.

First let me say that Louis Oosthuizen’s defeat at Augusta was nowhere near as devastating as some of the torture South African fans have been subjected to down the years. This was nothing like our World Cup cricket defeats. And there’s no referee we can witch-hunt. There were no Australians involved, whatsoever. And no three-foot putts missed (sorry, Ernie). Not a trace of a choke, actually.

In fact, Louis was outstanding on the day. He was simply beaten fair and square after a tough, clean fight. And all of this makes it a lot easier to stomach.

That, and the fact that we’ve still got two of the last five Masters winners to crow about. Maybe it was a little too much to ask for three, with the fairytale Charl-handing-the-jacket-to-his-mate-Louis scenario on top.

Given Oosthuizen’s Masters record and the fact that he hadn’t done much of note between January and Houston the week before the Masters, and given that we had to do without both Ernie and Retief at Augusta this year, I don’t think we can complain about an honourable second place.

Let’s also consider that Oosthuizen’s game wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders on Sunday, and he did a superb job to make the most of what he had. OK, his driver was stupidly good and his putting out of this world, but his approach play and chipping ensured that far too many of those putts were only for par. And let’s be honest, there’s a healthy chunk of luck involved in sinking an albatross, even if he did land the ball exactly where he wanted.

We’ve got more positives than negatives to take out of Sunday. I saw nerves of steel out there, nerves that make me think he’ll win more such battles than he loses. To hole some of the putts he holed, with the field breathing down his neck, on those greens, showed more mettle than he needed at St Andrews two years ago. When he won the Open he had only to protect a big lead, and the rest helped him by self-destructing. For my money, this was bigger pressure, for longer, and he responded with aplomb.

There’s only one little hole I can pick in Sunday’s efforts, and that’s some of the club selection. The third, ninth, 14th, 17th (after a lucky break), the 18th in regulation and the final playoff hole spring to mind – straight shots that came up short or long. Maybe it was simply a ball-striking issue, but if it was just down to club selection then it’s a shame something like that cost him so much. I’m in no position to comment on his decision-making process or his caddie, Wynand Stander, so I won’t. Just wonder why he doesn’t have Zack Rasego on the bag after they won the Open together? Or maybe Augusta doesn’t allow black caddies? Anyone got the answers?

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I can't pretend my sand wedge is like this purely due to normal wear and tear...

To the casual passer-by, I am just another worker ant, toiling away at my desk with little to cheer me besides the fact that said desk is in a well-protected corner. But should the casual passer-by stoop to inspect beneath my humble workspace, outwardly the same as every other desk in the open-plan, he or she would discover a terrible thing.

Ladies and gentlemen, yes, I have a confession. My golf clubs are living under my desk at work. It’s a storage issue at home: don’t ask. But the worst of it is that in that golf bag you would find a sand wedge broken at the handle.

Why? Well, if you must ask that, you’re obviously not a golfer. It’s the second club I’ve broken in my golfing career, and interestingly they’ve both been wedges. The other a lob wedge. Both breakages (nothing to do with me, of course) occurred after a wispy washout of an impression of a pitch, generally from the 20-30 metre range, and generally travelling less than half that distance.

Interesting aside: I wonder if anyone has ever made a list of which clubs get broken the most? Is it normal that I find the partially-duffed pitch the most infuriating mistake of all?

Anyway, so yes, me and golf aren’t speaking at the moment. I haven’t felt inclined to get my sand wedge fixed. I don’t feel like it. In fact, I swear it’s over between us, golf and me.

No, I mean it. There are easier ways for me to make a bit of cash. I think I’ll get into the fun and games of online poker. It could hardly be easier. I’ll just get myself an account with partypoker.fr and get playing there and then. What’s not to like? I’ve always loved poker, and it’s about time I made it a priority. And I’ll improve my French into the bargain.

I suppose golf will have its way with me again soon enough. She always tempts you back, doesn’t she? But for now, I’m holding firm and pursuing other avenues of pleasure. Let’s see how long I last…

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Once again I find myself apologizing for the recent lack of blog posts, but the truth is that this doesn’t make me any money and I’ve now got some serious bill-paying to worry about. It’s not hard to prioritize at this time.

So here goes with an appeal to the golf community. I’m hoping for some help or leads with finding work. As many of you will know, I took nearly two years ‘off’ full-time work to try and lower my golf handicap. During that time I went from a 25 to a 10, and lived the dream of so many office-bound people and, hopefully, provided them with some entertainment. Now, if you’re one of those office-bound person who enjoyed following my adventure but wouldn’t take the risk yourself…maybe you could help me in my hour of need? Do you run a business? A golf club? A magazine?

I am currently in the UK (London) for the foreseeable future and am looking for anything that will bring some money into my bank account. I’m a writer/journalist/reporter/editor with experience in all things publishing. I do proofreading, sub-editing and project management. I’m also a translator – I turn various European languages into English. I’m keen for any kind of work – freelance assignments or full-time work, it’s all good.

Working as a freelance or full time sports reporter is still first prize for me. I’d love to follow the major golf tours, writing reports plus insightful features and opinion. I’d love to give commentary a go. But these kinds of jobs only come up when people die – I’m not kidding.

Am I fussy? No I’m not. It doesn’t have to be sport. There’s a recession here. I’ll write about stamp-collection. In fact right now I’d be happy to sweep streets. I’ve even applied to work at the local pubs and stack shelves at the supermarket, but no joy. I’m not sure what’s going on. I have a university education…?

I am also happy to learn something new. The word ‘experience’ seems to come into every job description I look at, which limits me to what I’ve already done. But I firmly believe people don’t lose their ability to pick up a new trade just because they’ve hit 30. In fact, surely one is better equipped to handle it at 30 than 20? I have got the common sense and organizational skills to do all sorts of things, even things that require wearing suits and having meetings. And I’m a great believer that in some fields you can learn as much in a week-long crash course as you can in three years at university. For example, I bet that with hard work and good advice I could run a golf club or be a ‘golf director’. Try me. You may be surprised.

I wouldn’t mind being a caddie, either. I called Sunningdale, Wentworth etc last week but they all said there wouldn’t be any work until the summer. And what about working with a pro? Do they look for ‘experience’? Where does one start? All I can say is I’ve got a passion for the game and know a thing or two about strategy (if not execution!). Just hoping a golf lover out there might read this and know someone who knows someone…

Ooh – one last thing – my contact details can be found in the top-right hand corner of this page!

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