New and technologically advanced
golf balls fly farther than ever. Oversize golf drivers hit the ball
straighter. Space-age materials make irons easier to swing. Ergonomically
engineered putters roll the ball more precisely. Golf courses are more
plentiful and maintained better. Instruction is more accessible, at public and
private clubs, not to mention every night on a cable television channel
devoted entirely to golf.
There is even a better golf tee,
revamped to let the ball soar longer and more accurately.
The only thing in golf that has
not changed is the average score for 18 holes. Neither the average weekend
player nor the world's best golfers have managed to get the ball in the hole
any sooner.
The average 18-hole score for the
average golfer remains at about 100, as it has for decades, according to the
National Golf Foundation, an industry research and consulting service.
Among more serious recreational
golfers who register their scores with the United States Golf Association, the
average handicap index, a scoring tool, has dropped 0.5 strokes since 2000. On
the PGA Tour this year, the average score of players has risen, by 0.28
strokes, compared with the average 10 years ago.
"Maybe we're all supposed to
stink at this," said David Feherty, a columnist for Golf Magazine and a
commentator on CBS's golf telecasts. "It's our punishment for playing this
insane game."
That the average golf score is
not declining is much discussed by golf professionals, although it remains a
golf-industry secret, and with good reason.
In 2002, according to the
National Golf Foundation, Americans spent $4.7 billion on golf equipment, much
of it on $500 drivers and $200 putters, new technology designed to help
golfers find a four-and-a-quarter-inch hole with fewer swats at a 1.62 ounce
ball.
But is it working?
Nancy Seitz of Pompton Plains,
N.J., received a mammoth titanium driver as a Christmas present last year. The
club, which she calls "the cannon," barely fits in her golf bag, its
melon-sized head rising above her other clubs like Gulliver in Lilliput. After
a session last week at a driving range near her home, Ms. Seitz, 58, was asked
if the new club had helped her game.
"Well, I still can't hit it
straight or far, but I can hit it straighter and farther," she said. "I love
it."
Asked if her scores had gone
down, she smiled and conceded, "Not yet."
To many in the golf business,
such responses reflect the spirit of golf's eternal, mystical quest for a
better score. There are more than 26 million golfers in America, and most seem
to believe they are getting better. Many undoubtedly are, but the statistics
say a majority is not.
Still, the interplay between hope
and reality is part of the gestalt of the game.
Meanwhile, like a cosmic
collection of golf jokes - or golf tips - theories on why golfers are not
improving surface in all forms and delve into every realm: life pressures,
psychological demons, the changing family unit, the flood of baby boomer
retirees, even post-Sept. 11 effects.
The most common culprit cited,
though, is the disconnect between what the average golfer seeks - the longest
drives in the weekly foursome - and what the average golfer really needs,
which is skill at hitting the ball deftly in the final 50 yards on most holes.
"They watch golf on TV and then
they all want to hit it far, like Tiger Woods," said Dr. Bob Rotella, golf's
best-known psychologist and a best-selling author. "Well, good luck. They
should be going to their teacher and saying, 'I want to hit it like Fred
Funk.' Physically, they are much more like him. That would make a lot more
sense."
Mr. Funk is a 5-foot-8,
48-year-old PGA Tour pro who ranks first in driving accuracy and 186th in
driving distance. He is also seventh on the PGA money list this season with
more than $1.9 million in earnings.
"Part of the problem is that golf
instruction has been incredibly one-dimensional," said Lynn Marriott, a
teaching pro based in Arizona who is on Golf Magazine's list of the nation's
top-100 instructors. "Most golf lessons are not golf lessons, they are
golf-swing lessons. The game is still about getting it in the hole, not about
having the proper backswing."
Dr. Rotella said he would like to see the pay for instructors based on how
much their students' scores were lowered. Of course, instructors, who are paid
by the hour or the lesson, overwhelmingly maintain that students, if they take
lessons at all, refuse to take instruction that would help them the most.
"I ask every average
18-handicapper that I see to putt and chip for me," said Sal Vitale, the head
golfing professional at National Golf Worx, a large driving range in northern
New Jersey. "They say, 'No, that's O.K., I'm a pretty good chipper and
putter.' If I convince one of them to chip for me, they're usually not very
good.
"Still, all they want is help
with their swing, or nowadays, with their new driver."
One day last week, Mr. Vitale
gave seven lessons and four were to students with new drivers. At his driving
range, there is a small section set aside for short-game practice. In four
hours during a late afternoon/evening last week, two golfers visited it. The
47 stalls used to hit full shots were a blur of constant activity.
The misguided intentions of the
average golfer were not the only reason cited for the stubbornly unshrinking
golf score. Experts offered many explanations, and each said the average score
was likely to remain unchanged, just as it has remained unchanged since at
least the 1970's.
Rick Martino, the director of
instruction for the P.G.A. of America, suggested three factors had influenced
scores.
"The golf courses are much harder
than 20 years ago - longer, more bunkers, more water," he said. "Also, the
average age of the average golfer has gone up considerably because people are
living longer and baby boomers are retiring and taking up golf. But these
golfers are less fit and less accomplished at the game.
"And, there are more golfers who
play fewer rounds per year. If you only play two to seven times a year, what's
your average score going to be?"
Bryan Jones, director of
instruction at the David Glenz Golf Academy in Franklin, N.J., said golfers
were not improving because they did not have the time to get better.
"It takes a lot of time and
practice to master the complexities and nuances of the game," he said. "But
people have overscheduled lifestyles, and if they have children, everybody is
running in 10 directions. We've started teaching one-minute practice drills
that people can do in the bathroom mirror." Mr. Jones had another observation:
"People talk about the new ball going farther, and it does. It also goes
farther sideways."
Randy Smith, another top-100
instructor, who works at the Royal Oaks Country Club in Dallas, said the
members at his club had been playing less often since the Sept. 11 terrorist
attacks.
"People are spending more time at
home instead of playing golf," said Mr. Smith, who said the number of rounds
at Royal Oaks had slipped by 12 percent since 2001.
When average golfers do play,
Dr. Rotella wonders if they are thinking too much.
"First of all, golfers will
change their swing based on some suggestion they overhear on the train to
work," he said. "They wouldn't do something so cavalier in any other part of
their life. Then, they stand over the ball with seven swing thoughts. "The
tour pro is thinking of one thing: the target."
But what of the PGA pro? Why
isn't his score declining?
Unquestionably, most courses on
the professional tours are longer, and greens are mowed to be faster.
"We're also still walking around
with the same mental demons," said Mr. Feherty, a top European Tour player
before he became a broadcaster. "A 4-foot putt to win will never get any less
petrifying."
Ms. Marriott said she hoped
scores would eventually improve, but after 25 years as a teacher, she was not
convinced that it mattered.
"People enjoy themselves whether
they shoot 65 or 115," she said. "They're outside in a beautiful setting.
They're happy."
Gary Mastracche, 54, from
Kinnelon, N.J., was surprised to hear that the average score of the average
golfer had remained unchanged for decades.
Lugging his clubs to the driving
range, he stopped and said: "It leads me to the conclusion that the score is
not why we play. I play all the time with my lifelong friend Pete. We hit good
and bad shots. We make fun of each other. We have a great time out there.
"And it keeps us out of the
bars."
