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It's probably difficult for many coaches to pinpoint the moment they knew they were destined to become teachers. For me, that moment came into focus in the autumn of 1987.

My father is a PGA Professional and a pretty good teacher himself. As he would teach, I would often practice only a few steps away, occasionally listening in for tips or titbits that would help my game.

One unforgettable autumn afternoon I recall dad giving a lesson to a man who had what I would describe as "unique proportions." Rarely do you find an individual whose height and width is a spot-on match. I've heard the rule of thumb that a person's wingspan is equal to their height, but I have never heard an utterance where height and width should be equal as well. This particular gentleman was built in such a way and was known to all at the club as Uncle Eddie.

Uncle Eddie was just one of those tough cases who, try as they might, were never going to get any better. I recall he always seemed to practise with only one club, an old Sam Snead Signature Series seven-wood. This stick had clearly taken a beating, and if you told me that he had found it underneath his spare tyre, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised.

Due to his girth, Uncle Eddie's undoing was his inability to follow through and finish his swing. As a result, each effort was no more than a hand and arms slap at the ball where any distance at all forward was considered good! At the time, dad was quite enamoured with teaching aids. Back then, though, most of them were crafted in the garage with bungee cords, plywood and miles of PVC pipe. One of dad's favourite swing remedies was surgical tubing. As it would turn out, in this case, the perfect remedy for Uncle Eddie's affliction.

Dad asked me to halt practice and lend a hand. "Hold Uncle Eddie still while I tie him up," he said. With about 30 feet of the stretchy plastic in his grasp, he wrapped the tubing around Eddie's waist, and then fastened one end securely to one of Eddie's belt loops. Once strapped in, dad looped the lasso around Eddie a few more times for good measure, then holding one end securely in his grasp began a soft jog down the target line.

Image by: Nishant  Choksi  www.nishantchoski.com


Originally published, Golf Punk Magazine, UK

"Crouch down behind Eddie and grab onto his hips," dad barked from 20 yards away. All of the players were now in place, minus the ball. Another command from the outer limits: Give Eddie the cue, then count to three and tell me when to pull." "OK, dad!" I asked Uncle Eddie if he was ready to go. "OK" he muttered. Eddie revved up his back swing and I yelled, "1-2-3 PULL!!!!!"

It is at this moment that dad turned his back to us and began his burst down the target line. As I pushed with all my might against Eddie's right leg, dad unwound him like a top to what actually turned out to be an excellent finishing position. Dad pumped his fist to the sky, as if he had won some grand championship or summoned the strength to lift a burning vehicle off a stricken casualty. We had for a moment in time found that perfect harmony between mind and body; that rare ebb and flow where the power of the human spirit triumphs over all things once considered foolish and impossible by sceptic and naysayer alike.

Not realising how ridiculous we looked to the rafts of golfers enjoying their evening meal on the clubhouse patio nearby, nor to the players finishing number nine in clear view of our unfolding debacle, dad exclaimed, "tie him up again." We could have ended it there, but our lust for victory had turned this once simple golf lesson into a father-son 340 lb calf-roping session!

Many years have since passed, and for your sake I am proud to say that the sense of creativity that I garnered from my father years ago has been properly organized and channelled into more palatable ways for you to improve. Regardless of human proportion, nutrition is a big part of playing to your best ability. Follow my ‘Perfect Eating Day' to discover how keeping your body lean and your mind sharp can help you in the pursuit of lower scores.