Sometimes, Hazards Are in the Bag

In golf, the search for the perfect swing is nothing compared to the search for the perfect club. Lancelot in search of the Holy Grail was a dabbler by comparison. To a man, golfers are sure there is nothing wrong with their games that a simple twist of a vise, a refacing of a groove or the introduction of a new blade can’t fix.

They are, as usual, in hot pursuit of infinity. I can tell them from long experience that the golf club is as much a natural enemy of man as the timber wolf or the East Indian cobra. It is designed to produce periodic seizures of manic depression and really should be on the Surgeon General’s list of substances harmful to your health.

There are 36 pros--nine seniors, the rest regular tour players--in the MONY Tournament of Champions at La Costa Country Club this week. Most of them have not yet come to grips with the fact that each is harboring a nest of vipers in his golf bag, mortal enemies disguised as friends.

This, then, in the interests of public service, is the warning the manufacturer does not put on the package. Here, in the order of their virulence, is the true nature of the subversives they are dealing with:

--The No. 1 wood: Also known, laughingly, as the driver, this diabolic instrument is a yard-long, steel-shafted device that makes a ball go off at right angles to the club at impact, or to impart a deadly right-to-right-to-right parabola. The only time the ball goes left is when there’s an out-of-bounds there and/or houses with picture windows.

--The No. 3 wood: Illegitimate offshoot of the driver which hits a series of ground balls along the fairway on the occasions when it doesn’t miss the ball altogether. It is best clutched in the grip you might use on the neck of a chicken or a man you wake up to find poised over your bed with a long knife. It is designed to be swung at only one rate of speed, blindingly fast and with no more than a half-foot backswing and firmly locked knees.

--The No. 2 iron: An instrument with no discernible use. I mean, you can’t hit a golf ball with it. It may be, under some circumstances, suitable for changing a tire or unclogging a drain but is otherwise as useless as a toothpick after the soup course.

--The No. 5 iron: A dependable club that can be counted on to take a shot even off a good lie and propel it instantly into the nearest sand trap or pond. It is suitable also for making small holes in the covers of balls or the sides of golf carts, whichever it makes rare contact with.

--The No. 7 iron: This is a weapon delicately balanced so that whenever you have a 140-yard shot to the green, it will bite off precisely one-eighth of it. This is because it is ingeniously engineered to send the ball straight into the air in the trajectory of a pop foul to the catcher. It gets its 140 yards vertically, not horizontally--70 yards up, 70 yards down. --The No. 8 iron: An interesting little gadget in that it has a built-in water-seeking device that can, so to speak, flush out the nearest body of water, salt or fresh, and plunge a ball into the deepest part thereof. It cannot be used on any green if there is water in front or behind, and should not even be used too near clubhouse toilets. I call mine the Hesperus. It has sunk more chipping than Morgan the pirate.

--The No. 9 iron: A hunk of iron perfect for any number of household uses, such as poking a fire or killing a mouse, but so programmed that it will hit a golf ball only on the top half and send it chattering, in line-drive configuration, into the nearest clump of poison ivy. It is best treated as a historic instrument, mounted on a clubhouse wall with an inscription denoting that it never once in 35 years of constant use so much as hit even one green with a golf ball, never mind stopped on it.

--Sand wedge: An implement that can either drive a golf ball deeper into the sand or send it on an orbit over the green, whichever is worse. It is famous for sending the ball over two fences and through a neighboring window into a family kitchen before coming to rest in a pile of expensive crockery or a Louis XIV mirror. It is so crafted that it can never hit the first ball out of the trap or keep the second one on the golf course.

--Pitching wedge: A diabolical tool that should come with a recording that automatically shouts, “Fore on the right!” or, “My God, not over there!” on impact. It is hand-crafted never to hit a ball straight and seldom in the air. Fortunately, it bends easily around a tree or over a knee and sinks rapidly when thrown in a lateral water hazard where it belongs.

--Ginty: An orphan club that has the unique capacity for taking a bad shot and making it infinitely worse. It is designed only for trouble shots, which is to say that it cannot cure them, only cause them. It should be used only on holes where you’re trying to let the boss win.

--Cleek: A wonder of modern civilization, an iron stick that can hit a ball with the consistency and accuracy of a chocolate eclair. It is calibrated to stop abruptly on impact and move the ball three yards, or not at all. It will never get you into trouble. It will never get you anywhere.

--Putter: An implement that can take a ball four feet from a hole and put it 20 feet from the hole. It can cause more hand tremors than bad whiskey and is so delicately weighted that it can leave two-foot putts 12 inches short. It is listed by the American Medical Assn. as a leading cause of ulcers in this country. It is best used with eyes tightly closed, teeth clenched, and knees knocking. The most spiritual club in the bag, it is frequently taken out by a player murmuring The Lord’s Prayer at the same time. There are no atheists on greens.

If you know all this and still play the damned game, well, look at it this way: Some people still smoke, too.