The mystery of golf
Ted Dexter
Golf in The Kingdom Michael Murphy (Latimer £2.95)
put forward two possibilities to account for the oil and vinegar mixture of golf and Eastern loYsticism contained in Golf in the Kingdom. Like French dressing, it has taken a good deal of striving to combine the two. Either Murphy, a graduate in psychology and philosophy, is a frustrated golfer, dreaming of the outdoor life as he sits cooped up in the Esalen Institute he helped to found. Or, more likely, he is a frustrated evangelist of the supernatural, severely pained by the idolatry which millions Practice in their worship of golf, in reality the most earthy of earthbound games. If I am right about the latter condition, then it is a devilish clever way Mr Murphy has chosen tO undermine the outward importance in little Peoples' lives of their Sunday round of golf. He needs no telling that Mr Average Golfer cares little and knows less about academic psychol°gY and philosophy. Use of mind science on golf courses, North or South of the Border, is limited to elementary matters. To the giving or not giving of putts, and to sly comments on an °PPonent's style and suchlike. Psychology is sYnonymous with gamesmanship in the minds of golfers en masse. Philosophy, on the other hand, is surely what eLvery Tom, Dick and Harry already practices as l'e accepts, usually with good grace, his many inadequacies on the course. Mind you it is not a„IWaYs easy to be all that philosophical when a "ussed short putt has cost us money, prestige or a large slice of self respect! Our storyteller treads warily as he relates his gotitious but compelling tale of the twenty-four Ours spent in the company of Shivas Irons, the odd-ball golf professional at the Links of Rirrningbush. They play a round of golf ti_ogether which is as fascinating in its way as ,-„tce James Bond/Goldfinger battle at Royal St \reorges, Sandwich. At this stage an odd hint, ° more, suggests that for Murphy, alias Shivas :12111s, there is more to a round of golf than a :cries of impacts between club and ball. A somewhat drunken evening ensues with local cronies and v./ 'er flights of fancy begin. f Golf is variou -Iv (I iscribed by the revellers as A°.r instance "a microcosm of the world's larger ulsoipline," or, by a certain lady called Agatha rsimply a means towards going gay. "Men k°vio' men, that's what golf is" she says. The uurnorous vein carries the story along and the rell„ore Peculiar theories on the game are 1„^insable in direct ratio to the amount of
drunk. But the melodrama gets out of "and.
thl\l'pw Murphy has our attention he heads for e brink at a gallop, and if you care to assume T the horse has now bolted, then there is no good, uisgrar ace in deciding to fall off while the going is ri„Golf shots are played at dead of night with a L'Iltwood club belonging to Irons's spiritual _mentor Seamus MacDuff. The two hundred )ciard thirteenth is played. A hole-in-one, in the s:erk, with a shillelagh and a featherie ball! You it how far we have been taken down the re. raked road. From now on the supernatural is for granted. A golf ball which acts as on the will of the golfer as by the velocity direction of the blow he delivers is what fir„rPhY seems to be searching for. He is not the ch;`. Many of us have dreamed of winning willinonships without the physical skill, and I
De
e••• quick to congratulate Murphy if he
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Every facet of the game comes under our guru's microscope as he searches for hidden meanings with Freudian thoroughness. Some of his research and Insights are refreshing. Like the section on Dualism. I want to know more now about the different capacities and activities of the left and right side of the brain when applied to eccentric or "one sided" games. I know one right-handed sufferer from the dreaded putting twitch who is now reduced to going at it left-handed, but with hands reversed. Perhaps he is seeking help unconsciously from an untapped brain compartment which may remain twitch-free.
By contrast I found the reverence paid to a gentleman who was simply a great walker on the course, slightly offensive. As offensive in fact as a recent musical composition which apparently has no notes and lasts four minutes and thirty-three seconds.
If golf is to be solely in the minds eye, come
the twenty-first century, rather than in the trained and practiced hands of no nonsense professionals like Nicklaus and Bembridge, then I for one will rue the day.
I don't mind in the least being pressured into playing below form by a superior golfing being. But if I find myself up against the occult next time I risk all in, a head to head on the golf course, then it will be time to retire. Incidentally, there is comfort in the recent news that Gary Player, who often claims mystical powers, has just lost his fifteenth sudden-death play off.
The silver lining to enforced retirement from the game would be to find time to take a swing at a few so called philosophical truths. A few well directed strikes with a two iron would do much to restore the balance.
Ted Dexter, formerly England cricket captain, is a distinguished amateur golfer.
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