The Big Miss: My Years Coaching Tiger Woods by Hank Haney
Authors: Hank Haney
Tags: Autobiography.Sports
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tournament in Dallas, I decided to try to install one more significant change. The setting was right because I was at home and Tiger could work with me in private at Vaquero. (Though the media had found out about our practice round with Mark there, no one asked about this session.) Tiger had played well in the first two rounds, shooting 65-67 to take the lead. Normally, I wouldn’t have tried to show him anything new at such a juncture, but I knew Tiger would be in a good mood and I felt an inspiration, so after Friday’s round I asked him if he’d put in some practice with me at Vaquero.
Tiger was staying at the Four Seasons at the golf course, so he followed me in his courtesy car the ten miles to my place. On the way I had to decide how to introduce the idea in a way that he wouldn’t immediately dismiss. I’d heard his quote about throwing out 90 percent of what he heard from teachers and keeping maybe 5 percent, so when we got to Vaquero, I said, “Tiger, I want you to try something that I think might make that five percent you hear from teachers that you actually keep.” He laughed, and his good mood seemed to continue as we drove a cart out to the back of the range.
Basically, I believed Tiger would be better off with one more safeguard against the big miss. I’d found that pros who suffered from driver wildness invariably held the club more in the fingers. In my own case, I’d altered my grip so that the club was more in the palms. I had gotten the idea from studying Moe Norman, a Canadian whose competitive career had been hampered by his autism but who was legendary for the repetitive accuracy of his shots. Norman’s simple swing was notable for its relative lack of hand action.
I’d noticed that when I held the club out with just my left hand, if the grip was in the fingers, the club head would quiver and shake with any change in grip pressure. But when I held it in my palms, the club was much more stable and would barely twist.
Grip changes are huge decisions for pros, because in the short term they’re uncomfortable and greatly affect feel. So I told Tiger, “Look, I just want to show you something. Just keep an open mind and try it for me, OK?”
He looked at me skeptically. I demonstrated the grip I wanted him to try, then put his left hand on his 5-iron and showed him how I wanted him to hold the club more in his palm. He immediately said, “I can’t do this.” I quickly said, “Yeah, I know it feels weird, but just try it.” He took the new grip, placing his right hand also with more of his palm, and waggled the club. “There is no way,” he said. I repeated my urging, putting a ball in front of him to hit. He got over the ball and complained, “I can’t even cock my wrists.” I said, “Just hit one.” He stood over the ball for a longer time than usual, then swung.
The sound of the impact was distinctive. Tiger’s shots always made a great sound, but this was even more “flush.” The ball flight was ideal as well. Tiger was visibly astounded that he’d hit such a perfect shot with such an uncomfortable feeling. He looked at me and said, “Show me that grip again.” I put his hands on the club and he once again said, “I can’t hit the ball with this grip.” I answered, “You just did.” He flushed two more shots solidly and went, “Wow.” After about a dozen more balls, he looked at me and said, “I’m going with it.”
And just like that, he did. He used the grip the next two rounds at Dallas, and though he shot 70-69 to finish in a tie for fourth, he never complained about it. It was the fastest Tiger accepted any change I ever proposed to him, and the astounding thing is that it was probably the biggest change we ever made. Even though it was a grip that cost him some distance because it slightly restricted his hand action, Tiger never complained about the sacrifice and continued to hold the club more in the palm the entire time I coached him. The whole weird
Tiger was staying at the Four Seasons at the golf course, so he followed me in his courtesy car the ten miles to my place. On the way I had to decide how to introduce the idea in a way that he wouldn’t immediately dismiss. I’d heard his quote about throwing out 90 percent of what he heard from teachers and keeping maybe 5 percent, so when we got to Vaquero, I said, “Tiger, I want you to try something that I think might make that five percent you hear from teachers that you actually keep.” He laughed, and his good mood seemed to continue as we drove a cart out to the back of the range.
Basically, I believed Tiger would be better off with one more safeguard against the big miss. I’d found that pros who suffered from driver wildness invariably held the club more in the fingers. In my own case, I’d altered my grip so that the club was more in the palms. I had gotten the idea from studying Moe Norman, a Canadian whose competitive career had been hampered by his autism but who was legendary for the repetitive accuracy of his shots. Norman’s simple swing was notable for its relative lack of hand action.
I’d noticed that when I held the club out with just my left hand, if the grip was in the fingers, the club head would quiver and shake with any change in grip pressure. But when I held it in my palms, the club was much more stable and would barely twist.
Grip changes are huge decisions for pros, because in the short term they’re uncomfortable and greatly affect feel. So I told Tiger, “Look, I just want to show you something. Just keep an open mind and try it for me, OK?”
He looked at me skeptically. I demonstrated the grip I wanted him to try, then put his left hand on his 5-iron and showed him how I wanted him to hold the club more in his palm. He immediately said, “I can’t do this.” I quickly said, “Yeah, I know it feels weird, but just try it.” He took the new grip, placing his right hand also with more of his palm, and waggled the club. “There is no way,” he said. I repeated my urging, putting a ball in front of him to hit. He got over the ball and complained, “I can’t even cock my wrists.” I said, “Just hit one.” He stood over the ball for a longer time than usual, then swung.
The sound of the impact was distinctive. Tiger’s shots always made a great sound, but this was even more “flush.” The ball flight was ideal as well. Tiger was visibly astounded that he’d hit such a perfect shot with such an uncomfortable feeling. He looked at me and said, “Show me that grip again.” I put his hands on the club and he once again said, “I can’t hit the ball with this grip.” I answered, “You just did.” He flushed two more shots solidly and went, “Wow.” After about a dozen more balls, he looked at me and said, “I’m going with it.”
And just like that, he did. He used the grip the next two rounds at Dallas, and though he shot 70-69 to finish in a tie for fourth, he never complained about it. It was the fastest Tiger accepted any change I ever proposed to him, and the astounding thing is that it was probably the biggest change we ever made. Even though it was a grip that cost him some distance because it slightly restricted his hand action, Tiger never complained about the sacrifice and continued to hold the club more in the palm the entire time I coached him. The whole weird
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