Tuning out the noise!

Tuning grandpa's radio, in the kitchen of the old farm house in Perry, Iowa, was more a matter of tuning out the noise than tuning in the music or commodities market place report. While some music might be heard, the accompanying noise made enjoying the program aggravating.

The mind can only focus on one thing at a time. More than one thing . . . and the heart beats faster, the palms sweat, circuit breakers snap, and smoke puffs from the ears and nostrils.

Tuning in the golf swing is impossible if there is too much noise. Too many tips, too much to think about, performance anxiety, impending doom and embarrassment, the golf ball . . . are all deadly enemies of the effective golf swing. Did you notice the very powerful adjective EEEEFFFFFECTIVE golf swing?

Tune out the noise and listen to the music in your golf swing, the rhythm/tempo, the smooth power, the marvel of fluidity, and the "thoughtless" beautiful cascading waterfall and artistic presentation of a 2 second phenomenon.

Jim McLellan
The AntiPro/The Maverick
Visit or Return to McGolf Home of the Perfect Golf Swing

Golf Instructor

Hi there Jim. I'm emailing from down under to let you know that I "Fired da Bum" and guess who that is. Yes it is me. You see, I have been studying the golf swing for over 20 years and also became an accredited coach through the World Golf Teachers Federation completing a Masters a couple of years ago. I've been teaching with lots of success on a part-time basis and my objective is to finish off my working life teaching full-time. Always keen to learn new approaches/ideas etc.

I've studied Harmon, Hogan, Leadbetter etc. etc. and have also tried to apply a number theories to my own game with some success, but not the consistency that is required to play at a high level. Because I have a passion for teaching I found your website back in 2005 and it struck a cord with me at the time so I bought your DVD. I must admit that when I first looked at it I thought "oh this is just another theory on the golf swing and I can come up with my own answers" - Wrong!!!!

I played to a handicap of 3 going back a few years ago based on my own style and understanding of the various components of the game. So you can see that I have the confidence to take my game to the next level if I can just find the answers. However, over recent times my game has been going backwards. More than likely because, as you advocate, my brain is saturated with so many swing thoughts that I'm not swinging freely.

Out of frustration I thought I would dig out your DVD and take another look at it. To my surprise I suddenly understood/clicked with your philosophies on the golf swing. Probably because I'm a lot wiser now after teaching full time for 8 months at a 5 star resort in Nth Queensland. Anyway, I decided to give your drills a go. My classic problem was a slice and I always thought that my swing plane played a major role in this but I now understand the role that the hands play is the prime determinant leading to an open club face at impact.

I have only been practicing your methods for a week and Jim I cheated today and went out on the course for 9 holes. Apologies, but my excuse is that the weather was too good not to be on the golf course. Anyway, I applied your swing thought methods, just let the ball get in the way and comfortably played each hole to come in one under the card. I know that this was not just a lucky day out because I hit every fairway and green in regulation. I haven't done that for years. My thanks to you.

You can bet that I will be sticking with it and also passing it onto my students. If you are ever looking at starting a school in my neck of the woods I'd love to talk with you about any business opportunities. I'll keep you informed as to my progress. I'm excited about getting to the best level I can achieve and I'm sure that this will happen if I stick with your methods.

I have no hesitation in recommending them to any seasoned players or newcomers -just trust it and it will happen!!

Regards,
Des Heffernan ( Accredited Golf Teacher - Australian Golf Teachers Federation, Adelaide - South Australia )

Understanding Golf

Submitted by one of my students:

ONLY A TRUE GOLFER WILL UNDERSTAND THIS : Don't buy a putter until you've had a chance to throw it. Never try to keep more than 300 separate thoughts in your mind during your swing. When your shot has to carry over a water hazard, you can either hit one more club or two more balls. If you're afraid a full shot might reach the green while the foursome ahead of you is still putting out, you have two options: you can immediately shank a lay-up or you can wait until the green is clear and top a ball halfway there..

The less skilled the player, the more likely he is to share his ideas about the golf swing. No matter how bad you are playing, it is always possible to play worse. The inevitable result of any golf lesson is the instant elimination of the one critical unconscious motion that allowed you to compensate for all of your many other errors

Everyone replaces his divot after a perfect approach shot. A golf match is a test of your skill against your opponents' luck. It is surprisingly easy to hole a fifty foot putt. For a 10. Counting on your opponent to inform you when he breaks a rule is like expecting him to make fun of his own haircut. Nonchalant putts count the same as chalant putts It's not a gimme if you're still away. The shortest distance between any two points on a golf course is a straight line that passes directly through the center of a very large tree. You can hit a two acre fairway 10% of the time and a two inch branch 90% of the time. If you really want to get better at golf, go back and take it up at a much earlier age.

Since bad shots come in groups of three, a fourth bad shot is actually the beginning of the next group of three. When you look up, causing an awful shot, you will always look down again at exactly the moment when you ought to start watching the ball if you ever want to see it again. Every time a golfer makes a birdie, he must subsequently make two triple bogeys to restore the fundamental equilibrium of the universe. If you want to hit a 7 iron as far as Tiger Woods does, simply try to lay up just short of a water hazard. To calculate the speed of a player's downswing, multiply the speed of his back-swing by his handicap; i.e., back-swing 20 mph, handicap 15, downswing = 300 mph.

There are two things you can learn by stopping your back-swing at the top and checking the position of your hands: how many hands you have, and which one is wearing the glove. Hazards attract; fairways repel. A ball you can see in the rough from 50 yards away is not yours. If there is a ball on the fringe and a ball in the bunker, your ball is in the bunker. If both balls are in the bunker, yours is in the footprint It's easier to get up at 6:00 AM to play golf than at 10:00 to mow the yard A good drive on the 18th hole has stopped many a golfer from giving up the game. Golf is the perfect thing to do on Sunday because you always end up having to pray a lot. A good golf partner is one who's always slightly worse than you are....that's why I get so many calls to play with friends.

If there's a storm rolling in, you'll be having the game of your life. Golf balls are like eggs. They're white. They're sold by the dozen. And you need to buy fresh ones each week. It's amazing how a golfer who never helps out around the house will replace his divots, repair his ball marks, and rake his sand traps. If your opponent has trouble remembering whether he shot a six or a seven, he probably shot an eight (or worse). It takes longer to learn to be a good golfer than it does to become a brain surgeon. On the other hand, you don't get to ride around on a cart, drink beer, eat hot dogs and fart if you are performing Brain Surgery !!!!

Jim McLellan

The AntiPro/The Maverick

Visit or Return to McGolf Home of the Perfect Golf Swing

Golfer's Crying Towel!

Our pro shop consisted of a concrete block structure built on a slab at the site of an old city dump. This modest primitive structure housed a U-shaped counter designed to sell buckets of balls for our driving range customers. A medium bucket was 50 cents, large was 75 cents, and extra large was 1 dollar. (My Dad was a great salesman. Notice the absence of a small bucket). Additionally, we sold tickets to play our par 3 course. On one wall there were usually 2 or 3 sets of clubs for sale, (I remember selling about one set per month, if we were lucky), a small snack bar and a few tables...which were never all full at the same time.

The West windows provided a spectacular view of the Rocky Mountains from Pikes' Peak to Mt. Evans to Long's Peak and several other 14,000 ft+ peaks. Many were snow capped year 'round including days when Summer temps reached 100 in the city . . . less than a two hour drive away.

Unfortunately, one of the rituals we were forced to endure was being the recipient of horror stories from golfers who had just completed their rounds. Many had to describe every shot from the first T to the last putt! They informed us that the more they read about golf and the more lessons they took the worse they did. I heard these stories for years. Some readers wonder why I'm the outspoken Anti-Pro. I will guarantee if they had my background experience they would feel the same or more so.

My Mom was a tough Irish lady & had very little tolerance for whiners. After about 2 seconds of some golfer's moaning my Mom would throw them the crying towel and say "Tell your troubles to Jesus, the Chaplin's gone a shore!" You would have liked her.

Jim McLellan

The Anti-Pro/The Maverick

Visit or Return to McGolf Home of the Perfect Golf Swing

The Emperor's New Clothes

Perhaps you will spot some similarities between this prophetic story and today's golf instruction. Mr. Andersen's story may also apply to our upcoming presidental election.

The Emperor's New Clothes
by Hans Christian Andersen (1805-75)adapted by Stephen Corrin in Stories for Seven-Year-Olds. London 1964

Many years ago there lived an Emperor who was so exceedingly fond of fine new clothes that he spent vast sums of money on dress. To him clothes meant more than anything else in the world. He took no interest in his army, nor did he care to go to the theatre, or to drive about in his state coach, unless it was to display his new clothes. He had different robes for every single hour of the day.


In the great city where he lived life was gay and strangers were always coming and going. Everyone knew about the Emperor's passion for clothes.



Now one fine day two swindlers, calling themselves weavers, arrived. They declared that they could make the most magnificent cloth that one could imagine; cloth of most beautiful colours and elaborate patterns. Not only was the material so beautiful, but the clothes made from it had the special power of being invisible to everyone who was stupid or not fit. for his post.
"What a splendid idea," thought the Emperor. "What useful clothes to have. If I had such a suit of clothes I could know at once which of my people is stupid or unfit for his post."



So the Emperor gave the swindlers large sums of money and the two weavers set up their looms in the palace. They demanded the finest thread of the best silk and the finest gold and they pretended to work at their looms. But they put nothing on the looms. The frames stood empty. The silk and gold thread they stuffed into their bags. So they sat pretending to weave, and continued to work at the empty loom till late into the night. Night after night they went home with their money and their bags full of the finest silk and gold thread. Day after day they pretended to work.



Now the Emperor was eager to know how much of the cloth was finished, and would have loved to see for himself. He was, however, somewhat uneasy. "Suppose," he thought secretly, "suppose I am unable to see the cloth. That would mean I am either stupid or unfit for my post. That cannot be," he thought, but all the same he decided to send for his faithful old minister to go and see. "He will best be able to see how the cloth looks. He is far from stupid and splendid at his work."



So the faithful old minister went into the hall where the two weavers sat beside the empty looms pretending to work with all their might. The Emperor's minister opened his eyes wide. "Upon my life!" he thought. "I see nothing at all, nothing." But he did not say so. The two swindlers begged him to come nearer and asked him how he liked it. "Are not the colors exquisite, and see how intricate are the patterns," they said. The poor old minister stared and stared. Still he could see nothing, for there was nothing. But he did not dare to say he saw nothing. "Nobody must find out,"' thought he. "I must never confess that I could not see the stuff."
"Well," said one of the rascals. "You do not say whether it pleases you."
"Oh, it is beautiful-most excellent, to be sure. Such a beautiful design, such exquisite colors. I shall tell the Emperor how enchanted) I am with the cloth."
"We are very glad to hear that," said the weavers, and they started to describe the colors and patterns in great detail. The old minister listened very carefully so that he could repeat the description to the Emperor. They also demanded more money and more gold thread, saying that they needed it to finish the cloth. But, of course, they put all they were given into their bags and pockets and kept on working at their empty looms.



Soon after this the Emperor sent another official to see how the men were ,getting on and to ask whether the cloth would soon be ready. Exactly the same happened with him as with the minister. He stood and stared, but as there was nothing to be seen, he could see nothing.
"Is not the material beautiful?" said the swindlers, and again they talked of 'the patterns and the exquisite colors. "Stupid I certainly am not," thought the official. "Then I must be unfit for my post. But nobody shall know that I could not see the material." Then he praised the material he did not see and declared that he was delighted with the colors and the marvelous patterns.
To the Emperor he said when he returned, "The cloth the weavers are preparing is truly magnificent."



Everybody in the city had heard of the secret cloth and were talking about the splendid material.
And now the Emperor was curious to see the costly stuff for himself while it was still upon the looms. Accompanied by a number of selected ministers, among whom were the two poor ministers who had already been before, the Emperor went to the weavers. There they sat in front of the empty looms, weaving more diligently than ever, yet without a single thread upon the looms.
"Is not the cloth magnificent?" said the two ministers. "See here, the splendid pattern, the glorious colors." Each pointed to the empty loom. Each thought that the other could see the material.
"What can this mean?" said the Emperor to himself. "This is terrible. Am I so stupid? Am I not fit to be Emperor? This is disastrous," he thought. But aloud he said, "Oh, the cloth is perfectly wonderful. It has a splendid pattern and such charming colors." And he nodded his approval and smiled appreciatively and stared at the empty looms. He would not, he could not, admit he saw nothing, when his two ministers had praised the material so highly. And all his men looked and looked at the empty looms. Not one of them saw anything there at all. Nevertheless, they all said, "Oh, the cloth is magnificent."
They advised the Emperor to have some new clothes made from this splendid material to wear in the great procession the following day.
"Magnificent." "Excellent." "Exquisite," went from mouth to mouth and everyone was pleased. Each of the swindlers was given a decoration to wear in his button-hole and the title of "Knight of the Loom".



The rascals sat up all that night and worked, burning more than sixteen candles, so that everyone could see how busy they were making the suit of clothes ready for the procession. Each of them had a great big pair of scissors and they cut in the air, pretending to cut the cloth with them, and sewed with needles without any thread.



There was great excitement in the palace and the Emperor's clothes were the talk of the town. At last the weavers declared that the clothes were ready. Then the Emperor, with the most distinguished gentlemen of the court, came to the weavers. Each of the swindlers lifted up an arm as if he were holding something. "Here are Your Majesty's trousers," said one. "This is Your Majesty's mantle," said the other. "The whole suit is as light as a spider's web. Why, you might almost feel as if you had nothing on, but that is just the beauty of it."
"Magnificent," cried the ministers, but they could see nothing at all. Indeed there was nothing to be seen.
"Now if Your Imperial Majesty would graciously consent to take off your clothes," said the weavers, "we could fit on the new ones." So the Emperor laid aside his clothes and the swindlers pretended to help him piece by piece into the new ones they were supposed to have made.
The Emperor turned from side to side in front of the long glass as if admiring himself.
"How well they fit. How splendid Your Majesty's robes look: What gorgeous colors!" they all said.
"The canopy which is to be held over Your Majesty in the procession is waiting," announced the Lord High Chamberlain.
"I am quite ready," announced the Emperor, and he looked at himself again in the mirror, turning from side to side as if carefully examining his handsome attire.
The courtiers who were to carry the train felt about on the ground pretending to lift it: they walked on solemnly pretending to be carrying it. Nothing would have persuaded them to admit they could not see the clothes, for fear they would be thought stupid or unfit for their posts.
And so the Emperor set off under the high canopy, at the head of the great procession. It was a great success. All the people standing by and at the windows cheered and cried, "Oh, how splendid are the Emperor's new clothes. What a magnificent train! How well the clothes fit!" No one dared to admit that he couldn't see anything, for who would want it to be known that he was either stupid or unfit for his post?



None of the Emperor's clothes had ever met with such success.
But among the crowds a little child suddenly gasped out, "But he hasn't got anything on." And the people began to whisper to one another what the child had said. "He hasn't got anything on." "There's a little child saying he hasn't got anything on." Till everyone was saying, "But he hasn't got anything on." The Emperor himself had the uncomfortable feeling that what they were whispering was only too true. "But I will have to go through with the procession," he said to himself.
So he drew himself up and walked boldly on holding his head higher than before, and the courtiers held on to the train that wasn't there at all.



Hans Christian Andersen was born on 2. April 1805 in Odense (Denmark). He was son of a poor shoemaker and could hardly attend school. His father died when he was 11 years old. When Hans Anderson was the age of 14 he ran away to Copenhagen. In 1822 he went to the Latin school in Slagelse. He died in Copenhagen 4. August 1875 in the age of 70 years.






Jim McLellan


The AntiPro/The Maverick

Visit or Return to McGolf Home of the Perfect Golf Swing

Thanks for Nothin'

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"As A Man Thinketh"

I remember the exact date a friend of my wife gave us " As a Man Thinketh,__ I was 30 something. It changed my life, forever. I have recommended this book to several friends and the effect has been the same for them. The book is very inexpensive and is a quick, enjoyable read. It should be required reading for each and every human being. Look on EBay, Amazon . . . etc. Let me know how it changes your life!

Jim McLellan

The AntiPro/The Maverick
Visit or Return to McGolf Home of the Perfect Golf Swing