With great suspicion I have listened for sometime now about this right forearm pickup thing. "Oh that one little magic move could solve all my swing problems, " I've thought. I am a fireplug, with above average stength, former muscle-head. At 5 ft 9, I've spent most of my competitive life leveraging my body in a large man's world. I swing the golf club as I live, as if throwing 100 pound bags of cracked corn in back of a pickup (dove season comes in tomorrow, bu the way). So don't tell me to daintily pickup the club with my right forearm and drive it down.
So with my usual skepticism with a hand-controlled pivot move, yesterday at the range I thought I might like to experiment around with this move some more just to prove it worthless for me, to remove it as a possibility to ever consider doing again.
And then it happened. By focusing on picking up the club with the right forearm soley to point the butt of the club at the plane line, and to keep it pointing there as far as I possibly could in my downswing, I finally became the lagdaddy I always wanted to be. the job of the rest of my body, including my left arm, was to stay the hell out of the way. In its simplest form, I did as folows:
1. Pick up the club with the right forearm, pointing the butt of the club at the plane line.
2. My right forearm pickup also had a second responsiblity to pull my shoulder line closed and Keep it closed, the feel being closed even into the impact area.
3. Stab the ground with the butt of the club near the ball position (a feel)
Having become a self-actualized minor god, I sped home, got pulled over by a Georgia State Patrol for speeding. As he handed me the ticket book to sign, I reached out the window, grabbed him by his tie, pulled him in the window until he was right in my face, and did that clicking bite thing that Val Kilmore's Iceman did to Tom Cruise's Maverick character in Top Gun's locker room scene.
Not really, but I did stay at a Holiday inn Express last night. And I really did experience the magic of the right forearm pikup yesterday....really, I did.
"You mean the ball doesn't matter who I am?"
B. Manzella
So with my usual skepticism with a hand-controlled pivot move, yesterday at the range I thought I might like to experiment around with this move some more just to prove it worthless for me, to remove it as a possibility to ever consider doing again.
And then it happened. By focusing on picking up the club with the right forearm soley to point the butt of the club at the plane line, and to keep it pointing there as far as I possibly could in my downswing, I finally became the lagdaddy I always wanted to be. the job of the rest of my body, including my left arm, was to stay the hell out of the way. In its simplest form, I did as folows:
1. Pick up the club with the right forearm, pointing the butt of the club at the plane line.
2. My right forearm pickup also had a second responsiblity to pull my shoulder line closed and Keep it closed, the feel being closed even into the impact area.
3. Stab the ground with the butt of the club near the ball position (a feel)
Having become a self-actualized minor god, I sped home, got pulled over by a Georgia State Patrol for speeding. As he handed me the ticket book to sign, I reached out the window, grabbed him by his tie, pulled him in the window until he was right in my face, and did that clicking bite thing that Val Kilmore's Iceman did to Tom Cruise's Maverick character in Top Gun's locker room scene.
Not really, but I did stay at a Holiday inn Express last night. And I really did experience the magic of the right forearm pikup yesterday....really, I did.
"You mean the ball doesn't matter who I am?"
B. Manzella