Alex Perry has played golf since the Ping Eye 2 irons were the latest gear craze. But in his early forties he felt like he was at an impasse. Then he made a small tweak that would change his golf and – dare we say? – life forever…
Hello. My name is Alex and I hated playing golf for a long time.
The reason? Well, the same as many of you reading this, I’m sure. I suffered from a dreadful slice. My drives were often so far right, you’d think I was playing a round with Donald Trump.
Occasionally I liked it. Left-to-right swinging dog-legs don’t come along often enough, though, and the novelty of spending four hours hitting provisional balls or taking my medicine eventually wears off. I thought about quitting the game altogether more times than I care to admit.
And I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t you have lessons? Well, I did! But I bailed on those when I once caught a club professional, in my peripheral vision, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Not even Butch Harmon can sort you out, he told me. At least that’s what I heard.
I tried everything. I adjusted my grip, fiddled with my stance, and attempted to swing along every conceivable plane. I watched YouTube videos. I took advice from playing partners, most of whom can’t break 90 themselves. I probably spent more time thinking about my driver than I did about anything else in my life. And I’ve got two kids under the age of ten.
And yet, there it was. Again. That sinking, sickening, soul-sapping feeling of watching your ball start somewhere near the middle of the fairway before setting its sights on a part of the golf course even the greenkeepers dare not venture. I spent so much time chopping around in woodland I obtained a doctorate. (It’s a ‘tree surgeon’ joke. Keep up, this is good stuff!)
Golf is supposed to be fun. Instead, I was standing over every drive with a myriad of thoughts racing through my mind. I may as well have been trying to do calculus in Japanese.
I would far too often do the one thing I tell every golfer not to. I blamed my equipment. So I decided to seek help on that front – starting with my friends at Ping.
Now, I should note that other popular brands are available. I just happen to have used Ping since my grandad cut me down some Eye 2 irons when I was a nipper.
Where was I? Oh yes, en route to Ping’s European HQ in Gainsborough to unashamedly abuse my position as one of Britain’s golf writers and have them sort me out once and for all.
The G440 is one of the more popular drivers on tour. (Credit: Ping)
After a couple of hours of observing, tweaking, sighing, and nose pinching, we settled on the G440 SFT – which stands for Straight Flight Technology (obviously). Now I’m not going to get into the technical side of it all – anyone who’s read my work before knows full well that I would just be regurgitating words from someone smarter – but something clicked.
Before I explain, I should point out that I’m not being paid by Ping to write this. I bought it with my power of persuasion. They don’t expect anything in return for my new driver, and they’re certainly not threatening to take it away if I don’t say nice things.
The G440 SFT isn’t a magic wand. It hasn’t fixed my swing and certainly hasn’t turned me into Rory McIlroy overnight. I still hit bad shots. Plenty of them, in fact. Occasionally, I still manage to produce a slice that reminds me of those The Sound of Silence days.
The difference now is I’m more confident. I’ve stopped pegging up as far right of the tee box and aiming as far left as possible. The 440 has got me finishing on short grass. Every so often, I might even produce a draw so aesthetically pleasing you would think it was by Tony Hart.
And the most important thing? I’m enjoying golf again.
TG’s Alex Perry says he can finally start aiming down the middle of the fairway. (Credit: James Hall)
Not because my scores are coming down – they absolutely are, and it’s magnificent – but because I’m no longer spending every round in fear of the next tee box. I’m taking on holes I used to dread. I’m hitting my second shots from parts of the golf course I never knew existed. I’m hitting from angles I’ve never seen before.
Of course, there’s a sensible epilogue to this triumphant tale of redemption. The technology isn’t a substitute for simply trying to get better – and I will continue to try and do just that – but it has sure as hell helped. I’m now playing the game I want to be playing, and I’m having fun. A feeling I genuinely thought I’d lost for good.
Year after year we’re told this new driver will gain you 15 yards, or that new driver will make you more attractive to the opposite sex. For me, it was just about finding the one that kept me in play.
It has created a new problem, though. I now have to learn how to hit an iron off a fairway.
Dear Ping…