Musings On The Golf Swing

Southern Pines, N.C. - As I grew up in golf, I looked to my father for inspiration. He’d never had a lesson but he had a wonderful, athletic swing and hit the ball a long way. His handicap always hovered around a 4, as I recall. We studied the swing together and he bought a few golf books written by players who had, in his mind, great swings: Ben Hogan. Tommy Armour. Mickey Wright.

We used to gallery the West Palm Beach Open, which was a regular event on the PGA circuit. Arnold Palmer, Billy Casper, Johnny Pott, Dow Finsterwald all played. It was a great place to test dad’s theory that you could learn to be a better player by observing the best players at work. It was a particularly good theory for instructing juniors, who are such good mimics.

At the tournament one day, dad called me over to watch a player whose swing he admired. George Knudson was never really successful on the tour - he won a few events - but dad loved his golf swing. So we stood together behind Knudson on the practice tee while dad pointed out the strengths of his swing.

Herbert Warren Wind was the premier golf writer of that day, and for decades after that, and you could cozy up to a Wind story and read insightful portraits of great players and reports of championships, but you’d also pick up the subtleties of the swing under tournament pressure.

Many years later, I was visiting Wright in her charming home in Florida. I was extremely fortunate when we ran films of her swing, from childhood through her prime, on a small home movie projector. Suddenly, there was Knudson in the frame, hitting balls. "The men (professionals) always thought he had a good swing," Mickey told me. She wouldn’t have taken the films, nor saved them, if she didn’t agree.

Who Is This?

In 2000, I was working the Women’s Amateur Public Links Championship at The Legacy in North Carolina. Barbara Romack, 1954 U.S. Women’s Amateur champion, came into the media room. "There’s a player on the practice tee you need to see," she said.

I hiked out to the tee and saw a young player with a truly magnificent swing bombing tee shots out toward the end of the range. This was a swing that reminded you of Bob Jones, lithe and graceful. Powerful. Classic. The girl was tall but she looked young.

"Wow," I said. "How old is she?"

"I don’t know, but her bag tag says, ‘Michelle Wie,’" Romack said.

The swing's the thing: Even the great Mickey Wright has marveled over Michelle Wie's swing. (John Mummert/USGA)

I hurried back to the media room and didn’t remember to look up her bio until first-round qualifying scores were posted the next day. From what we now call "the middle tees," which were the men’s tees in the old days, Wie had shot 75 and was among the top 10 scorers. I did a double-take when I checked her bio sheet. She was 10 years old.

I invited Wie up to the interview area where a few of us lounged around gathering quotes. She came in with a woman she shyly introduced as her mother, Bo. Bo sat in the back of the room and Wie sat on a folding chair. We chatted about her golf background.

"What’s the lowest score you’ve shot?" I asked. It was the typical gentle question you might ask a youngster unaccustomed to interviews.

"64," she said, looking down at the floor.

"64…," I pondered, glancing quickly at Barbara on the other side of the room. "Um, well, that’s awfully good. Was it on a regulation, 18-hole course? Yes. OK. I guess you’d like to one day be a professional and play on the LPGA Tour?"

"No," she said in a soft, almost breathless little voice. "I want to play on the PGA Tour. I want to play in The Masters."

I looked over at her mother. Bo had a slight smile and gave a little nod of her head.

"Well, that’s great. Do you want to play in The Masters because your mom or someone suggested it?" I asked.

"No," Wie said firmly. "I watched The Masters on TV and that’s what I want to play in."

Wright Stuff?

I have a very, very good memory, honed as a reporter, tempered by years of covering city council meetings, the state legislature and such. Some folks have said that, if I have an outstanding characteristic, and I’m not saying that I do, it’s the rather modest one of being a person who really listens. And if I don’t always remember your name, I’ll no doubt remember what you said. I remember this conversation vividly, word for word, because it was so startling and because I have repeated it so many times since.

I didn’t tell Mickey about Wie that year. In 2001, I was in Long Grove, Ill., outside of Chicago. The Women’s Amateur Public Links was being played at Kemper Lakes G.C., and Wie had a match against Hilary Homeyer. Wie defeated her. After the match, I mentioned to Wie’s father that Homeyer (who would win the 2003 U.S. Women’s Open as Hilary Lunke) was a Curtis Cup player who had also played on the USA Women’s World Amateur Team. "I know," said her father. "I didn’t tell her."

That night I called Mickey. "Listen, there’s this 11-year-old girl. Her name is Michelle Wie. I haven’t seen a golf swing like this in a long, long time," I said, and told Mickey of the swing, the match, the length off the tee.

Mickey was interested. I’m always a little cautious when I talk to Mickey, and try not to be too effusive about players to the greatest one of all. "It’s fun to see these young ones come along," I said carefully, "to watch them play so well and hope that they turn out to be great."

Mickey, who always pleasantly surprises me with her continued generosity of spirit, said: "That’s what you hope for. To see someone come along who is going to be great. It’s always good to have someone to pull for."

Over the next few years, I do know that Romack called Mickey now and then. They’re old friends. Both grew more and more interested in the game of Michelle Wie.

Only once, did Mickey’s inquiries veer into anything personal. "Is she a nice girl?" she asked me. "Yes," I said. "She’s a very nice girl and her parents are very nice too."

It’s been seven years since that first sighting. We’ve seen many wonderful young players come along and it’s been fun to follow their play. Seeing them, just like seeing Wie, is like suddenly spotting a really magnificent young thoroughbred race horse – a yearling of speed and muscle and endurance and perfect form. Maybe this would be the one. Maybe this one or that one will play great golf and win championships and break records.

My friend, the late Polly Riley, a six-time Curtis Cup player who lived in Fort Worth, Texas, was a longtime friend of Ben Hogan’s. I once asked her if she thought Hogan would have been as successful playing today as he was in his own era. "No," Polly said. "The world is so intrusive now. He wouldn’t have liked playing today at all."

Who’s to know. The world, as we know it, is what we have to deal with today and there’s no going back. But when I see talented young players competing in the national arena, in my view, the swing is still the thing, and the tenacity to win.

Rhonda Glenn is the USGA’s Manager of Communications. E-mail her with questions or comments at rglenn@usga.org.