OAKVILLE, ONT. — Jon Mills was wearing a metronome while hitting wedges at the Glen Abbey Golf Club yesterday afternoon as his swing coach, Dave Woods, observed him. Stephen Ames was hitting balls a few places over on the range from his fellow Canadian while his swing coach, Sean Foley, was discussing plyometrics and leverage.
The RBC Canadian Open will begin tomorrow, and, folks, it's a far different game out here from the one you play with your pals.
"Even in Toronto, a lot of guys competing in the Ontario Amateur and doing decent don't appreciate the jump up to this level," Craig Davies, a Toronto chiropractor who works with Mills and other players and refers to himself as a golf performance therapist, said on the range.
"These guys are hitting balls and working out every day. The technical part is so far beyond the average guy. It's like if you can do a 100-yard sprint in 10 seconds, that might get you into the top 50, but to go to 9.8, the difference is huge."
The search for that difference has led the current generation of golfers to work with teams of advisers. Most tour players have always had swing coaches. But today's player is likely to employ a swing instructor, a sports psychologist, a nutritionist and a trainer. The Royal Canadian Golf Association, which along with the PGA Tour is conducting this week's tournament, is using such an approach in trying to develop elite players.
What's next, aromatherapy for players in their hotel rooms?
It's impossible to say whether the teamwork pays, because controlled studies haven't been conducted that indicate how players who use extensive counsel do compared against those who don't. It's worth noting that Jack Nicklaus had a swing coach and a swing coach only. Nicklaus said that this man, Jack Grout, never once set foot on a practice range with him during a tournament.
Then again, Grout also said he was lucky to have a 10-year-old Nicklaus walk into his pro shop at the Scioto Country Club in Columbus. Nicklaus's father, Charlie, signed him up for junior lessons.
Grout said anybody could have taught Nicklaus. He was being his usual modest self, but he made his point.
Later, to be sure, Nicklaus sought plenty of counsel from swing coach Jim Flick and short-game wizard Phil Rodgers. But a mental coach? A nutritionist? A trainer? Nicklaus knows things are different today.
They're different enough that Ames hit balls while not only Foley, but also mental coach Alan Fine watched. On the practice putting green behind the range, Charlie Wi was deep in discussion with Mike Bennett, who along with Andy Plummer teaches the popular stack and tilt approach. Golfers interested in their teaching, by the way, might want to attend the clinic they'll give on Friday morning at the Club at Bond Head just north of Toronto.
Plummer and Bennett will speak what will sound, to the casual golfer, like a foreign language. Then again, most of the talk around this week's Canadian Open could sound like that to the recreational golfer. When, for example, have you last worked with a metronome? Probably never.
"Jon wore a metronome for two hours a day when we were working in his first year [after college]," said Woods, who teaches at Angus Glen Golf Club in Markham, Ont. "It was a big thing for him."
Woods explained that Mills wasn't precise with his wedges when he played college golf at Kent State in Kent, Ohio. Mills used to say his teammate Ben Curtis, who went on to win the 2003 British Open, was able to hit his long irons inside his wedges. Mills was joking, but he knew he needed help. Enter the metronome.
"It's a Dave Pelz thing," Woods said of how the short-game teacher who works with Phil Mickelson, for one, uses the metronome with his players. "He talks about trigger, target, ball, back, and through, all on one beat. Jon's wedge play got so good after using the metronome."
Mills's wedge play isn't the only thing that's tightened up. He trains with Davies and said his waistline has gone down to 32 inches from 34 and that he's lost weight. Davies plans to see Mills about 90 minutes before he tees off in today's pro-am. They'll do some stretching and treat it, Davies said, "like a normal [tournament] round."
As Davies spoke, Mills continued to hit balls and create a nearly perfect square in the ground with his divot pattern. Most amateurs tear up the ground and make it look like they've been using a shovel rather than a golf club.
"Bacon strips, not pork chops," the late Moe Norman used to say of how a divot should look after a player hits the ball properly. Mills was taking bacon strips.
But he probably doesn't eat much bacon. And whatever diet he's on, it appears to include supplements. Therein lies a problem, as Davies pointed out, given the PGA Tour's new drug-testing policy.
"We've pretty much taken everything right back," Davies said, meaning that players have to be very careful these days about what supplements they take. "We can't even go into a store and buy regular protein powder because the company can't guarantee they're not cross-contaminated."
Davies pointed out that he's no longer comfortable even giving his players their usual fare to take on the course.
"I usually have them take a low-glycemic granola mix, almonds for Vitamin E and the fats you need, dried fruits for a bit of sugar and a low-glycemic protein bar," he said. "I can pretty much give the granola and fruit, but even with the all-natural and organic protein bar that you can buy anywhere, when I call the company, I can't be sure of what happens if a player eats a lot. The whole tour is really nervous about this whole issue."
So there you have it, a modern tournament golf, this week on a soft course that superintendent Scott Bowman and his vast crew have tried mightily to maintain. The 17th fairway was under four feet of water within 100 yards of the green after last Sunday's vicious storm.
Mills, Ames and their colleagues will be hitting the ball from point A to point B, just as anybody who has played the Abbey has tried to do.
They'll be doing it with much more help than you've had. And, of course, much more talent.
