Pete Popovich and David Toms.
Brian:
After hearing all the accolades on your putting I'm asking:
What did you do to get to the level you're at? What did you practice and how much did you practice? What problems have you had and how did you correct them? What did you focus on during the practice? Did you use aids?
Can you describe your progress. Also, describe you present routine when you get to the green.
Do you practice much today, or depend on the ability you've developed? When you do practice today, what do you focus on? What do you consider your strength in putting? Where can you still improve?
Your sharing is very much appreciated.
Many thanks.
Cliff
Thanks for the question, Cliff.
I can vividly remember making two 30-foot putts in a row for pars, at the New Orleans City Park North Course when I was about 11 years old, back in 1973. I did it with a grip similar to the one Hubert Green used, spilt hands and forefinger down the shaft.
The next time I remember making a putt that meant anything, was at a US Open qualifier at Lakewood C.C. in New Orleans in 1992.
Really.
In High-School, I was an All-Conference player who averaged three 3-putts—per nine!
In college, as the Captain and often #1 man for the University of New Orleans, I once putted with one of those basakward putters for a tournament or two. You know, the one with the shaft attached at the toe instead of the heel. This particular model was heavier than today's "Heavy Putter." I was that desperate.
Never made two 5 footers in a row.
We are not talking about the "yips," nah, I got those later. No, we are talking about a guy who could make putts well enough to win side money putting against his teammates on the practice putting green with ANY part of an Anser putter. Just not with the face—in a tunamint.
We are are not talking about a guy with no touch, no feel, no rhythm, no knowledge, either. We are talking about a guy who was on TV playing the drums in a Talent show for adults at age 7—and lost narrowly to a 29-year old African American R&B singer who got a recording contract. A guy who led the City of New Orleans in scoring in two sports in 8th grade. Who started teaching golf at age 20, because he was better at it then anyone else in town—by a lot.
I just couldn't putt.
Even a lick.
Now, that day at Lakewood. I went into the event hitting it quite good, but putting bad, as was my usual. The day before, I had fashioned a long grip on a Ping A-Blade and wrapped it with gauze. I putted Berhard Langer anchored to the left arm style in the qualifier after having only practiced the style before the round warming up.
I putted pretty decent, hit it average and only missed qualifying by 2.
I didn't try left arm anchored again until 1994. Don't ask why. I am a little goofy. Well, Ok, A lot goofy. That year, 1994, I played my best golf ever, somewhat because I figured out the Never Hook Again pattern, but mostly because I averaged 28.2 puts for the year.
The next January I won a Dave Pelz National Putting contest first stage qualifier by shooting 7-under for 9 holes. That's seven one-putts folks. Average hole length, 18 feet.
One little problem though.
Just one month before, in December, on one of our then-annual trips to see Ben Doyle, we played Spanish Bay Golf Links on my 33rd birthday. I'll never forget, because I made a birdie 3 on the 3rd hole. Funny, huh?
Then next hole, I made a ridiculous up and down from a spot that Tiger might have chipped out sideways from. To do so I had to make a tough 5-footer. Tom Bartlett and Mike Finney, my partners for the day and much of the rest of my life, videoed the up and down.
When Ben Doyle watched the putt on TV that night in his living room—while we each ate our pints of Cherry Garcia—he famously remarked looking at my putting technique:
"I'd rather miss it."
Other than the Dave Pelz 7 of 9 performance, I was never quite the same. Even when I shot a 9-under 59 for the second time later that year, I really didn't make anything except a 18-footer for par from behind the 17th green.
The magic was gone.
Poof.
One old guy who talks in a whisper, whispered it right out of me.
There is a honorary member at Owl Creek Country Club in Anchorage, Kentucky, where Mike Finney is the Head Pro named Bill Brunsman. He was a former Head Professional himself at Owl Creek back when golf balls had 336 dimples, and double-knit was king. He may have been there for some time before that as well, but I digress. Anyway, Mr. Brunsman had talked about some guy he (and I) had seen on TV that taught folks to grip the club upside down with the left hand. I told him I had the sequence of this yahoo hitting a driver and would bring it out to the club for him to show to his equally ancient playing partners, who presumably would first try the unorthodox grip, then travel to Jewish Hospital to have their arm reattached.
Brunsman asked/bothered/hounded/tracked me down in the parking lot about the clipping for what seemed like a year, but was probably just a few weeks. With another US Open qualifying upcoming soon, I was trying unprintable things, banned in 37 states, on Owl Creek's smaller-than-a-California King practice putting green, when, this time,
I spotted Brunsman first, hunched over, limping up #3.
"Oh, no," I said out loud to myself and a coupe of squirrels. "Its Brunsman again," and I still hadn't found that stupid Golf Digest sequence that Katrina took good care of a couple of years later. "What am I going to do?, this stupid upside down grip...," as I grabbed my putter "incorrectly" with my right hand on top and upside down, and my left hand low, and my right fist and putter shaft anchored to the left arm. Without lining up a 18-footer, I made it. I made two more before I had Brunsman out of my mind. After 20 more putts, and 17 makes from all over the mattress, I could have beat Tiger 11-0 in "eleven."
I putted that way for about 4 or 5 years, once making some ungodly amount in a row to win a contest at the Merchandise show (I always win those). I was sometimes decent, and less often outstanding with the crazy grip, but often just disappointing. I was at least content because Tom Bartlett told me he had Ben sign a do-not-disturb card Tom stole from a Motel 6.
And then, Pete Popovich happened.
You see for years, I have been a VERY good putting
teacher. I have probably spent a hundred hours on David Toms' stroke so I can't be too bad. But now, Mr. Pop was standing above that #3 green at Owl Creek, watching me shrivel over a three and half foot long birdie putt, with two feet of break. Of course I didn't hit the hole.
Pete had just signed the Manzella Academy to teach a the Pepsico mindset, a big, big event that everyone you ever heard of on those stupid top teachers list had taught at, but this year it would be me and my boys on the full swing, and Dave Pelz himself on the short game.
"Maybe you can get Pelzy to teach you how to putt," said Mr. Pop with a grin was he walked off.
Inside my belly, you could have boiled an egg. "I can out putting teach that Pelz dude." I said to myself, this time not out loud. "If I can get David to make 'em, I'll just teach myself to 'Do it Right'."
So, I went off to my range to teach, and work on my chipping, to get the feel for the new stroke.
I bought a putter like David uses two hours later, and since then I have made a mlle off putts. Literally, ONE mile.
Exactly how?
Ah....that's for the video:
The Manzella Putting Matrix
