GOLF.

Shannon News, 7 December 1926, Page 2

GOLF.

,- BUNKER SHOTS.

. (By Harry Vardon, Six Times Open . Champion). There ean be no doubt that a great many strokes are wasted in bunkers —either because people have no particular idea as to how the shots ought to be played or because, in attempting the recoveries they try for too much in the matter of distance. It is a sound policy to calculate that, if wo can get out of a bunker at a loss equivalent to half a stroke, we are do ing well. That means that we must accomplish the next stroke —or, a.t any rate, some stroke before the completion of the hole —a little bit extra well in order to retrieve the situation entirely. Sometimes the ball lies so badly that we must be content to lose a whole stroke in just struggling clear of the hazard without being subjected to the humiliation of playing two or more shots in it. In the great majority of instances, this latter tribulation is the direct result of being greedy and trying to achieve more than is possible at the first attempt. Very seldom have I seen a ball so desperately tucked away in a bunker that it could not be retrieved, in ono shot by the person who played the stroke properly. It is evidence of the possibilities in this connection that good golfers nearly always recover at the 'first attempt, although it is obvious that the uncertainties of lies in hazards being what they are—firstclass players, no loss than the rank and file are at the mercy of the gods once they have struck the ball into a place of retribution.

They recover at the least possible cost because they concentrate first and last on getting out of the hazard— a long way out if circumstances aire favourable, but, in any case, out of it. The average golfer is apt to be excesively heroic. Or perhaps it would be correct to describe him as lacking in discretion. He resolves that he will risk the face of the bunker, and go for trusting to make the ball rise quickly and skim over .the top of the hazard. More often than not he goes crash into the face of it. There is much to be said for courageous golf, but only rarely is a bunker the place for its exploitation. It is much the same as in other walks of life in which an individual finds himself in a predicament of his own making. The most daring way of trying to get out of it is not necessarily*thc best way.

. There is a fairly well-defined type of shot that serves in nearly all instances in bunkers. The player has to adapt himself to circumstances. He may have to stand with one foot above the other, or work himself into an unusual position owing to the proximity of a bank of the hazard which does not permit 'him to dispose one leg or the other just as he would wish.

This matter apart, there is a way of poising the body and swinging for ■the shot which may bo set down as the best that mortal has devised. Before dealing with it, however, let me remark that is intended for real bunker shots—that is to say, shots in which the ball lies heavily in loose, fine sand, so that its base is well set in the soil and our view of it begins more or less with its diameter. I think the American clubs have "taught their members to play bunker shots better than our golfers accomplish these shots, because the Americans have made it a practice—indeed, almost a solemn rite—-to keep their bunkers constantly raked. The result is that there are invariably rows of furrows, only inches apart, in the sand, and a bunkered ball is nearly always in one of these furrows.

Our bunkers very often consist of firm, level expanses of sand, or some other soil, on which, the ball sits up as serenely as on the fairway. To be sure, there is usually the confronting face of the hazard to consider, but ■when the lie is firm it frequently is'not the true bunker shot that is wanted at •all. The ball can ■be taken 'cleanly with the mashie or the niblock, due allowance being made for the degree of quick elevation which is needed to carry the bunker-face. The trouble is that many people, being in si bunker, play what they are pleased to call a bunker-shot without first considering the situation in a spirit of cold reasoning. The Real Thing. However, we must apply ourselves to genuine bunker shots —those shots for which the ball is nestling down in j the sand, or whatever ithc nature of the substance, in such a way that we 'cannot see the bottom of it. There arc plenty of these shots to play, even if 'they are not so constant iu their presentment as if we kept the sand for ■ 'ever raked. Assuming that we have the real thing to do —that we ought not to expect to get very far with the shot, but that we must release ourselves in one blow from 'the clutches of the hazard—--I'the first thing to do is to fix the eye 'on a spot about an inch and a-foalf or two inches behind the ball. What Ave lhave to do is to stab the blade of the '■niblick forcibly into the sand at this fepoft so as to create such a violent •disturbance of the soil that the ball flies up from its imprisonment, and, with the grace of Providence, comes to rest on 'the course. There is no need to finesse with the •question of strength. Let it be a full; 'swing; as full a swing as for a drive.' If the ball is lying badly, we are not 'likody in any case to get very far. There should be nothing in the nature of an easy flowing swing at the ball. ■lt has to bo a powerful hit into the sand behind the object. • Turn the body well towards the ■direction in which you arc siiming (a position rather more open than that for the mashie shot); take the club !up fairly straight and slowly to the

%)p of the swing; and bring it down with rhythm so as to bury its head 'behind the ball. As the blow is made -there should be a perceptible tendency to thrust the weight of the body on •to the left leg. This, at any rate, is how I get out of bunkers.