Mr Polly’s golfing observation

At the age of fourteen I was exposed to Mr Polly.  Fourteen is an impressionable age; it is also one of intense reactions.  The History of Mr Polly is a novel by HG Wells. With a title like that, it was doomed and was reacted to, violently, by the class of boys. Its plain red hardcover was attacked, both front and back, but probably suffered less than any boy who was brave enough to say, quietly, “I actually find it quite funny.”

I did not find it funny.  But the strange thing is that, of all the novels which came across my path in the years of schooling, the only one that has left lines inscribed upon my memory is Mr Polly.  You might think this is a case of Mr Polly’s exacting revenge on a superficial adolescent.  This is not the case.  How can such innocuous words “…addressing themselves to smite little hunted white balls great distances with the utmost bitterness and dexterity…” have the power of revenge?  The reason they stay is: they are true.

Golf is a strange game.  Though it shares, with a very great number of other games, the aim of getting a ball into a desired position, it is the only one where men and women (in the past it would have been gentlemen and ladies) dress themselves very smartly and behave very appropriately in order to hit a tiny white ball into all sorts of places where they had no intention of its going; then go to the great trouble of finding it (possibly getting dirty in the procedure) in order to hit it into another place of even greater trouble.  It is often the case that the cursed ball gets lost, but then they are doubly punished by not only being given a penalty for doing so, but have to take another ball and carry on this strange pursuit.  

Why do this?  Because golf satisfies. It satisfies on every level.  Masochists enjoy it; sadists enjoy the masochists; and perfectionists enjoy never perfecting it.  On one day you may beat it and score your best but the next day it beats you up – and that definition of golf  “a good walk spoiled” suits your thunderface as you leave the final green. 

Because golf cannot be beaten, it is wise to be broad-minded about it.  It not only helps you play longer, but also live longer.  Playing the game longer is the first challenge; the professionals make it look easy, but in reality it is not.  And if you try to ease your disappointment with “…it’s only a game…”  (no one says that these days, have you noticed that?) that doesn’t help. After all, we have made a deep investment in the game: much money, time and practice.  And the return on all this?  Precious little. Which is why, when you hear someone on the course pontificating about how the more you put into it, the more you get out, you might put your eight-iron into him. 

Yes, it is true: you will not get out of golf what you put in because golf simply works on a higher plane than that which those effort-preachers understand.  “One good shot does not deserve another” is a rule of this sport.  But the positive is that one good shot feels so great that all those others are simply forgotten.  It’s a shot which any of the best golfers in the world would have wanted to make – and for a moment you know that you could really be good at this game. 

But even with those magnet shots which bring you back, it is difficult to stay in the game.  To take all that rough with so little smooth you may need to find other sources of inspiration. For now one will suffice.  Cliché it might be, but “Don’t forget to stop and smell the roses”, something I once saw on a noticeboard outside a golf shop, is valid. What is also valid is that those words are incorrectly quoted.   Walter Hagen, the most successful golfer of the early twentieth century, actually said: “Don’t hurry, don’t worry, you’re only here for a short visit so be sure to smell the flowers along the way.”  However, American poster designers don’t need it to be accurate: they need it to fit the page.

But, for golfers, Hagen’s original words are all vital.  They have the pleasure of being able to apply them literally and figuratively.  Their surrounds are stretches of fine grass, selected flowerbeds, trees, streams and ponds, all within the fresh air of 120-odd acres of nature. Natural beauty, though, is not enough to bring one back, which is why you should never hurry or worry over your game in such a setting.  Your shot might not smell like flowers when it ends up in them, but taking the time to smell them will be the reason for that next shot saving your day. 

In his novel,1984, George Orwell introduced the concept of doublethink, where you can hold contradictory ideas simultaneously. Golfers should develop that skill.  Preparing to play the stroke, focus on the ball as if it were the world.  If the shot’s a disaster and the world now lost, pop the club into the bag and savour the flowers, knowing that the previous world never existed, only the one you now unearth from your golf bag.  Practising this will not only keep you playing the game longer but also better.

Mr Polly’s observation of how golfers smite “…little hunted white balls…with the utmost bitterness and dexterity” shows this principle at work.  Golfers may succumb to bitterness when duffing a simple shot, but will employ a certain dexterity of mind by ignoring it and moving on. 

As for helping you live longer, it’s simple.   Any golfer knows that, if one good shot can bring you back, more than one makes living longer to do so even more attractive.  Imagine matching your age in your one hundredth year!

Thanks to wuz of unsplash for the title image