golf

Short and straight.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

A brutal truth. It’s likely that many of us who jumped the Rorytrain last night aren’t Proper Golfers – and most won’t be Golf Experts. But the magic and the drama of the event and the tremendous watchability and charisma of the chief protagonists – some of them, in the case of the actual venue, almost surreally preened – made us cling to it. It was ‘and then some’. It was ‘oh my goodness’. It took even us frauds into palpable wonder and trauma, beyond any planned investment in time or support. We were, I suppose, captured.

I’d prefer to give McIlroy himself (himself) credit for this. As opposed to the oodles of baggage, or the scissored and colorific perfection that is Augusta. Yes even us part-timers had a strong sense of the storyline underpinning: the Heartbreaks and the Breakdowns and the cruel romance. But it was mainly the sport that made this Masters – the golf shots. The ridicu-wedge blasted high before finding the seventh: lols, even the perpetrator, SuperMac, was visibly gobsmacked! The screeching curler around the trees, on the 15th. The magnificent, nerveless iron to the 17th. The quietly accumulating brilliance of Rose.

Throw in the tortured but also fading wildness of DeChambeau and we may already have all we need for epic sport. But we also had Aberg again being coolly thrilling tee-to-green. We had other Significant Locals weirdly marginalised. Overpoweringly though, we had that stirring, even gut-churning absence of certainty around the fella ‘destined to be central’.

I’d been coaching cricket for eight hours – 12 til 8pm – before rapidly piling the kit into the boot and flicking on Five Live. Practically the first words I heard were describing, in rather shocked tones, how the ‘lead had changed hands’. EH?!? McIlroy had gone from being two ahead to one down, in the first two holes! There were swear-words. I wasn’t sure whether to drive more quickly or pull up in a lay-by and sob.

By the time I’d cranked up the Sky Sports live feed, Rory was not only back in front, but stretching his lead. The Madness had started early. Faldo was bleating about DeChambeau’s daft bullishness – ‘you can’t hit irons like that, it doesn’t work’, or similar – and McIlroy looked spookily at ease. (I’ve just read a loada stuff about a) his sports psychologist and b) his American opponent noting that the Northern Irishman said nothing to him, all round… which may be interesting, or not). Then that shot on the 7th happened. It ticked all the daft bullishness boxes, being preposterous and risky and irre-bloody-sponsible, but Rory made the fekker. Superhuman ain’t in it – or rather it is, because it was utterly beyond the realm of the human. Brutally smashed. Ridiculously finessed. A bloody outrage.

That kind of statement should be the end of something… but not here. Not with this bloke. There were impossibly jarring errors – notably that flunk into the beck at 13, planting a 7 (seven) on his scorecard – and the pressure-slippage between 11 and 14 which engineered a very temporary three-way tie on the leaderboard. (Macker/Rose/Aberg). Godlike ripostes on 15 and 17 ripped a hole in any Here We Go Again theories before the universe crumpled back into them on the 18th green, as the Chosen (or Persecuted, or Unfortunate) One missed a shortish putt. Rose’s 10 (ten!) birdies on the day had won him a shot at glory. Fair enough. I nearly went to bed.

The crowds: where do we start, as a soft-leftie Brit, with the crowds at Augusta National?

We know who most of them vote for. We know 12% of the blokes will shout ‘get in the ho-o-ole!’ when the ball is tracking a mile westward. We suspect for a number this event may be a lifestyle choice more than a communion with a cherished ball-game. In short I confess they may not be my natural territory. But hey, mostly they were wonderful. Huge and engaged and powerfully supportive. Mostly in lurv with Rory, of course – possibly even when there were Americans in contention.

Somebody’s probably writing a thesis on why the roaring was so lung-bursting and so heartfelt, for the foreigner.* It can only be a combination of The Personality, The Story, and The Actual Golf. Whatever; let’s toast that crowd and that noise and zone back in to the mesmerising quality of some of the play. Rory McIlroy played a few dodgy shots in that final round. Of course he did. But his response and renewal, under the crushing weight of failure and disappointment and expectation, was incredible and heroic. Non-golf people will have been electrified and touched by his genius and his guts.

We somehow got to where we somehow knew we’d be. A play-off. Mercifully we had just the one hole to complete. Both players played it pret-ty immaculately, with solid drives and beautiful irons. McIlroy won it because his putt was short and straight and his opponents was longer. That, as Faldo might have said, is how golf works.

*Given where the U.S. is, maybe there’s a little hope in there somewhere?

Image from Belfast Live.

I’m with them.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Honesty-box spoiler alert-thing. I chose not to watch the England game tonight because I’m in Wales… and I expected what happened to happen. A repeat of previous – quite a lot of previous, some might suggest. But rather than get tooo smug about that, I’m going to drop in a few more thoughts; about coaching; about football; about Southgate.

I get that some of you think that this manager has ‘done enough’, has been a notable, even demonstrable success and there is some truth in that. But – because life is complex and there are feelings and responsibilities in play here – it’s also in question.

I chose to coach cricket tonight. For all its faults and that whole icon of conservatism vibe, the ECB transformed coaching about twenty years ago, to put self-learning and ownership at the heart of player development. Coaches were to instruct a whole lot less and allow growth of the player through great questions and Core Principles (as opposed to demonstration and didacticism-by-rote). Skills and brains and leadership were to be developed in a player-centred, even personal kindofaway. This ownership model was thought to be akin to, or essential towards kinds of freedom as well as kinds of discipline and growth.

There may be a case that football has a generic problem with this – so not just Southgate and England, but almost everybody lacks the capacity to find a way, to change, to invent, because most of what they know is on a chart or an ipad. Players are fed – stuffed – with external prompts, with a matrix rammed with all the possibilities except the option to ‘go native’.

The All Blacks had leadership groups decades ago. They made Churchillian team-talks and constant, match-day interventions and instruction from the coaching team almost superfluous. The players could decide stuff: could transform. They were ready; they were equipped; they were autonomous from game plans – or could be.

It may not be quite as simple as football being twenty years behind other sports, coaching-wise but I am going to argue the combination of delusional self-importance, over-coaching and the lack of individual, in-the-moment decision-making and/or tactical adjustments in the allegedly beautiful game is a force – and not in a good way. There are too many coaching staff making too many ‘interventions’. Players are not empowered, encouraged or trusted to make changes: they may be unable to because of the forty-two voices in their ears offering vital stats or shapes or ‘reminders, mate’.

This is a generic problem, for England and for the world that used to be just footie. The culture of game-management runs so deep and is so heavily reinforced by staff during matches that a sort of lethargy sinks in. Nobody wants to play badly or slowly or without any wit… but it happens. The game becomes beige – partly, admittedly because character (often meaning spunk or feistiness or that historic surge towards the gladitorial) is cancelled-out. Cheating and faking or exaggeration is so-o utterly ubiquitous that you can’t challenge: you can’t out-battle or physically dominate. And the gaffer won’t let you really surge. So there are almost no characters – no personalities – because there can be no expression from the heart: only the head. Or from strategies learned.

I accept, of course that the protection now offered to skilful players is a significant positive, as is the notable improvement in comfort on the ball, especially amongst defenders. But we need a balance, yes, between ‘sophistication’ and the things that make us roar? It may be that we can’t legislate for that… so again coaching becomes key.

My trusted Football People shouted most of this from our Whatsapp group, but narrowed-in on Southgate. We’ve all thought he’s been unable to liberate a very good group of players, for years. Tonight he’ll be hurting. Some of that is about how the game’s gone. But he is culpable, as are the players, and many fear he lacks the charisma or wit (or possibly the desire?) to stir up the camp.

Lastly, another barb from somewhere obscure, perhaps. What about the fans? What about entertaining/thrilling/energising the moment for the supporters? They love England and they love football and they’ve shelled out a huge wedge to pile over there in their thousands. Is there no obligation *at all* to show them some urgency? We’re not talking about reckless storming – not yet – but against ordinary teams, when the universe is shrieking that this is boring and ineffectual, is there no awareness of any responsibility to ‘go after ’em?’ Probably not. Because of that aforementioned delusion and the inescapable drip-feed that is game-management. Players really may be too self-absorbed (or too lost) to break out. The manager is responsible for that environment of fear and smotheration.

Below is my ‘report’ from the Serbia game. Hearing it remains relevant.

We’re all over-dosing, I suspect. Cricket, football, golf. Rain, sun, wind. Sleep. Drink. Swear. Fail to make sense but shout, anyway.

Us Lads were shouting about England again, last night. (We do know actually know football so if any of your opinions clash with what follows, then walk away, tutting). Do that early doors – as soon as you feel Southgate’s been slandered or tournament football’s been underestimated. You’re wrong and we’re right.

Swung in classical, predictable anger and disappointment awaaay from The Footie and into The Golf, in the hope that McIlroy could claim some triumph for lusty redemption and alacrity but erm, t’was not to be. We found yet filthier despoilment of the universal good. The poor bastard, having played with sensational coolness and consistency, on a gruelling track, against the gorgeous prostitute that is DeChambeau, missed TWO PUTTS that Aunty Nellie would have knocked in on a municipal in Belfast. It was absolutely Peak Trauma: life-shrivelling stuff. It was even worse than watching England.

Let’s deal with Southgate. You newbies may not know that Yours F Truly (and everybody I know and trust to be a Proper Football Human) has been saying the same kinda stuff about him for years. Fabulous politician and integrator/appreciator. Genuinely good man, as much by learning as by origins – and this may be another significant compliment. Almost certainly a tory-lite, by nature, but now gets most of the Essential Truths around multiculturalism, value and representation. Has grown manfully and generously into what he understands to be a ludicrously *important* and high-profile role. But football-wise? Mediocre.

The Southgate-era ‘tournament success’ is both real and flimsy, in the sense that England have been ordinary in both recent events. (Yup, I mean that). Played relatively little exciting and/or entertaining football: instincts have been to revert to holding/deadening the game/’absorbing pressure’… often against manifestly poor teams. Despite ‘going through’, fine players have looked stilted; one-dimensional; often one-paced.

Can of worms opened; so let’s deal with certain issues arising.

Yes I know that tournaments are often won by teams who have been as dull as ditch-water for much of the campaign: and that the *actual quality* of football carries less meaning for some than the end result. Shame, but true. Typically, teams plan or engineer a way through, rather than looking to out-play or thrash the opposition; partly because allegedly ‘there are no easy games’. (There are no easy games if you choose to contain; or accept the cat-and-mousery. There are no easy games if you shackle your fliers’ instincts to fly, pass, surge). There is a level of over-thinking – and therefore caution – because for all the inane talk of ‘positivity’ coaches fear the expression of pace and invention and threat.

Southgate is not alone in being very conscious of the flow towards choreography, organisation, shape. But his England are often a poor watch (and a real disappointment, given the players available) because he leans so heavily into that culture of game-management. Plus his substitutions are generally poor. Plus, despite picking young players and/or being aware of form, the energy of his teams can be flat. He’s a likeable but dull man, both in terms of lacking spark and being relatively slow-witted. Some of that may be reflected…

The ‘possession football’ his team adopted after an encouraging start against Serbia was nearly as dispiriting as the 4-5-1 default as soon as their pallid efforts gifted the opposition the ball. They were slow, they were boring, they were easy to defend against because they chose, actually to offer no threat. Just a long-term erosion of their opponent’s will.

You may say that nobody chooses to offer no threat and nobody chooses to play boring football. But Southgate’s Posse do it a fair bit, in tournaments. Foden – Foden! – was painfully insipid last night; Kane an irrelevance. Saka looked ace for about fifteen minutes. Then Serbia – Serbia! – were allowed to build and make incursions into a defence that the universe knows ain’t England’s strength. A draw looked likely for much of the second half.

Players and fans know when they’ve been crap. You can’t build confidence – or o-kaaaay, you’re unlikely to build confidence and momentum – if you play crap. And England were crap, against a very ordinary side that they should have walloped, given their personnel and the start they made.

Every one of the Proper Football People I spoke to after the game knows what tournaments are. What risk is. What proportionality is. Every one said they don’t want England to win this championship playing ‘like that’ – meaning with caution and ‘pragmatism.’ They all suspect Southgate of having poor instincts, particularly with regard to getting the best out of attacking talent. I’m with them. This England looks beige again: lacking leadership, lacking spirit and energy. Plainly there is brilliance within. I hope they find it.

Universe Podcast, with Kim Thomas, Golf Professional.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

The Universe Podcast ain’t hard-hitting journalism – even when it’s about hard hitting. It’s a forum for friendly stuff; like conversation about sport; like maybe an insight or twelve, either fluked by Himself Himself (@cricketmanwales), or, more likely, via the greater intelligence and experience of an honoured guest. This edition is very much the latter.

Kim Thomas – pictured at the British Open, commentating for ESPN – is a mate of mine but more importantly or relevantly a Golf Professional. He played on The European Tour, he teaches, he commentates. He is man with stories galore and real expertise, from technical matters to matters of preparation, psychology, skills. We spoke about most of this, with Kim – as an accomplished broadcaster – seamlessly crossing from subject to subject, as I a) prompted and b) thought “hell fire, mun, we could talk for days on this… and this”.

It was great. Enjoyable and genuinely fascinating, perhaps particularly (as you will hear) because of obvious parallels between Kim’s experience in golf and that of the mighty cricketmanwales.com multinational corporation’s vast hinterland – i.e. you/yours, dear reader… in cricket.

Golf faces many of the same challenges as our own magnificent sport. Cultural stuff out there in the universe and pressures around time, loyalty, relevance, in a dumbed-down world. Listen and you’ll see.

You’ll see, too, I think, why I’m already planning a Round Two with Kim, at some stage, to draw out more stories and more thoughts on coaching/teaching/mentality – how and why sport works. Meantimes, plug in, friends… and please do RT if you enjoy.

 

Listening back. Might add…

  • Kim *really does* have masses of golf stories – why wouldn’t he, after 40-odd years playing, teaching and commentating on the game?
  • He is still both teaching – he tends to use that word rather than ‘coaching’ – as well as doing the media work.
  • As a coach myself, I am clear that Kim has more to say on coaching methodology and player mentality in particular (and has the experience and authority to be genuinely worth listening-to) so we may well, in time, revisit that area. 
  • KT says at one point “a lot of bad swings make a lot of money”. And also that “the golf has to be creative”. Love that – the idea that for all the alleged essentials, the ‘building blocks’, the stuff the coach is trying to drill, individual idiosyncrasies and the ability to FEEL, are still central. This is not, in any way to denigrate the role of the coach; on the contrary, it suggests the coach teacher/mentor must be able to recognise and support the creative instinct… *whilst enabling consistency*. (Therefore the coach must be listening, must be patient, must be brilliant and generous).
  • Golf is not cricket, and vice-versa, and I am not blithely suggesting that coaching one is the same as coaching t’other. Or that the mental challenges are the same. But plainly there are parallels – in my view this is rich territory.
  • Finally, we could and arguably should have discussed some more the ways in which both games are approaching the challenges slung at us by universal cultural/societal changes. Certainly in cricket changes in format are underway but they are also polarising, controversial – alienating, even, to some. There are powerful arguments for a re-boot but how to do this without traducing the great traditions?  More parallels: golf, too, is both soul-searching and wondering how to go forward. These are exciting, testing times.