Okay so let’s talk about putting today. Man, putting. Seems simple, right? Just tap it in. But man oh man, how many times have I stared down a tiny putt feeling that ice in my veins?
I decided it was time to get serious. Like, properly serious. Not just whacking balls on the practice green hoping for the best. I needed to go back to absolute basics. Like, crawl before you walk stuff.
The Starting Point: My Stupid Wrist
First thing I did? Grabbed my old putter and stood over a ball on my living room rug. Seriously. No hole, just focusing on the stroke. I pressed record on my phone (because who’s watching, right?) and just tried a few slow, steady strokes.
And wow. Just, wow. My video showed this jerky little flick happening right before hitting the ball. My stupid wrist kept breaking down! It was like I was trying to scoop the ball into the hole instead of just rolling it. Felt smooth to me, looked like garbage on video. Kinda embarrassing, honestly.
So, Goal Numero Uno became super clear: lock that wrist down. I pictured a ruler running straight down my forearm, through the putter grip, and down the shaft. Needed to keep that whole line solid. No bendy nonsense.
Grinding on the Feel
Took this revelation to the actual practice green. Forget the hole for a bit. Plopped down maybe a dozen balls, all in a straight line, maybe three feet apart. The mission?
- Make a smooth stroke. Like, painfully slow. Think syrup flowing.
- Zero wrist action. Pure shoulders rocking. Like a pendulum.
- Listen to the roll. Forget how close it got, how did the sound of the ball rolling off the face feel? Was it a crisp “tock” or a dead “thud”? Tock = good!
Did this for… honestly felt like forever. Just rolling balls. Five feet. Ten feet. Fifteen. Focused purely on that pendulum feel and the sound. My hands felt kinda stiff at first, weirdly robotic, but the ball started rolling so much truer. Less wobble.
Hitting a Wall (or Missing Short Putts)
Felt good! Confidence growing. Time to actually aim at holes, right? WRONG. Stepped up to some three-footers and… clanked them off the lip! Not missing by a mile, but enough to get seriously annoyed. Felt like I’d cracked the stroke, so why couldn’t I sink these gimmes?
Stared at my putter after a particularly bad miss. That familiar feeling crept in – the urge to blame the tool. “Maybe this putter hates short putts?” I grumbled to myself. Then I remembered what sparked this whole thing: choosing the right putter might actually matter. Kinda felt like cheating to admit it, though.
Facing the Putter Pile
I raid my garage. Seriously, it’s embarrassing how many putters I own. Found four. All different:
- The old blade one I grew up with. Pure steel. Dead simple.
- That big, ugly mallet putter I bought hoping technology = magic.
- A heel-shafted thing I got cheap because it looked cool.
- A newer “face-balanced” blade from a few years back.
Dumped them all by the practice green. Time for a science experiment. Or, you know, just randomly hitting putts.
The Mallet Mystery Unravels
Tried the mallet first. Felt like swinging a brick on a stick. Super stable, sure, like swinging a gate. But on those short putts? Zero feel. Couldn’t tell if I hit it center or off the toe. Distance control? Forget it. It either blew past the hole or died short.
Switched to my ancient blade. Felt light, almost flimsy. But the feedback! Oh man, I instantly knew where I hit it on the face. Missed short putts? Yeah, but now I knew exactly why. Too much face rotation? Yep, felt it twisting.
The heel-shafted weirdo? Felt like it wanted to close super hard. Weird arc. No good. Ditched it fast.
The newer “face-balanced” blade, though… this was weird. Felt familiar like the old blade, maybe a touch heavier. But swinging it back and forth, it felt… steady. Like it wanted to go straight back and straight through without forcing my wrists to do anything unnatural. Like it matched the pendulum thing I was drilling into my head.
The Lightbulb Moment (Simple Isn’t Stupid)
Kept switching between the old blade and the newer face-balanced one. The difference on those short putts was crazy. With the face-balanced blade, I wasn’t fighting the putter twisting in my hands. It felt… easier. Like I could just think about rocking my shoulders and keeping things smooth, and the putter did its job without extra drama.
The mallet felt like driving a tank – powerful, but hard to be precise in tight spots. The old blade felt like driving a go-kart – fun, responsive, but twitchy if you sneezed. This newer blade? Felt like a regular car. Comfortable. Predictable. Didn’t surprise me.
That’s when it clicked. Choosing a putter isn’t about flashy tech or what the pros use. It’s about finding the one that doesn’t fight the stroke you’re trying to make. For my dumb, wrists-that-want-to-flick stroke, that face-balanced design actually helped my fundamentals by staying quieter through impact.
What I Actually Learned
Look, I’m no putting guru now. I still miss putts. But that whole morning messing around showed me two things super clearly:
- Get the stroke down first. Really understand how your own body wants to move. Video helps, even if it’s embarrassing.
- Try what you already own! Don’t just buy new. Grab your collection and test them back-to-back doing the drill you just practiced. You’ll see which one goes “Oh yeah, that feels right” with your stroke.
Found my right putter hiding in the garage this whole time. Didn’t cost me a dime. Just some time, sweat, and admitting that putting maybe required a little thought. Who knew?
