Shanking the ball
is a dreadful condition to which no golfer is immune. This statement needs no
further proof than the recent images of Tiger Woods, a man who once won the
U.S. Open by 15 shots, striking it straight from the hosel.
Anyone who’s played the
game long enough has hit a flub, a skull, or a duff, but none of these is
feared more than the shank, the mother of all mis-hits.
The shank has almost mystical qualities. Neurotic (or wise?) players even
refuse to utter its name lest they be infected.
The shank is feared for
many reasons. It ruins holes, rounds, and vacations. It destroys confidence.
Perhaps its name, which sounds hard, violent, and lethal, has something to do
with it. The legendary Harvey Penick called the shank
the "lateral shot." Shank gets more to the heart of the matter. Consider two
scenarios:
Scenario 1: "Johnny was
all square coming into 18, then hit a lateral shot on his second." I’m
confused. Did he hit into the hazard? Get up and down?
Scenario 2: "Johnny was all square coming into 18,
then shanked his second." No ambiguity here. Johnny lost the match and may
never be the same.
Golf wisdom suggests that
if a playing partner catches a case of the shanks mid-round, it’s best to avert
your eyes. Otherwise, an already delicate golf psyche could suffer irreparable
damage. This is why, "Was that a shank?" is one of the most ill-advised
questions on a golf course - the mere possibility of a shank has the potential
to turn an enjoyable afternoon into a grave and ominous one. I write from
experience, of course.
Cures for the shanks
abound and range from the technical (swing plane) to the absurdly simplistic
(pick a target in the sky). There is also no shortage of potential causes:
standing too close to the ball, releasing too early, swinging too far inside,
and so on. Where to begin? The mystery is just another reason to be
intimidated.
I’ve read more than a few
pros say their most feared shot is a 60-yard pitch off a tight lie to a tucked
pin. I’d bet a good number of weekend golfers would say it’s the shot after a
shank. Those with a history infections know that one shank can indicate a
simple lapse in concentration, but two in a row is a diagnosis. The arms tense
up. The hands tremble. A good swing is all but impossible. The moment of impact
is desperately and hastily sought. This pattern inevitably exacerbates the
problem. Frustration and despair kick in. Welcome to the shank feedback loop.
A few seasons ago I had
such a bad case that I was forced to seek the counsel of my local pro. "A shank
is a good player’s miss," he told me, "it’s almost a good golf shot." I
wanted to believe him, I really did, but I suspected that my dear pro, like Mr.
Penick, was downplaying the severity of the situation
for his pupil’s sake. With the pro’s help, I was eventually cured, but not
before I was completely distracted by some other real or imaginary swing flaw.
Is there a permanent cure? A
sure way to avoid golf’s most humiliating shot? My pro probably has a good
answer, but it will cost you around $120.00. For now on (until my next round),
I’ll just accept that a shank is nothing more than a reminder that we all take
this silly game much too seriously. It’s also helpful to remember that even if
you’re shanking the ball, you’re still playing golf. Or at least something
close to it.
Mike
Miller lives in Chester County with his family. He is notorious for practicing
in his living room and reading too many instruction books. His 12 handicap is
rising fast.
