Article #42
Teacher: Bobby Steiner
To meet this week's teacher, or to purchase a copy of MUNIE ~ The Jitterbug Collection, go to www.bobbysteiner.com
The Perfect Practice Round (Excerpt from MUNIE ~ The Jitterbug Collection)
The day of the practice round finally came. Though I wasn't his partner, Jitterbug invited me to play with him as he made final preparations for the Western North Carolina two-man amateur championship.
On the way across the mountain, I asked Jitterbug, "Are we going straight to the first tee or do you need some time to practice on the range?"
"I do all my practicing on the course," Jitterbug said.
"So what then, you're gonna hit a couple drives on each hole?"
"No, I'm just gonna work on my chipping," he said.
That didn't make much sense to me. After all, the tournament committee was known for stretching this course out and letting the rough grow. It seemed to me that time would be better spent grooving the driver. Nonetheless, I knew Jitterbug didn't bring me along to make suggestions.
When we got to the course, I opened the trunk to unload our clubs. I couldn't help but notice how light Jitterbug's bag was.
Alarmed, I asked, "Jitterbug, where are all your woods?"
"They're in the same place as my two-, three-, and four-irons, at home in the garage."
Sympathetically, I offered, "Well, it might not be the same, but if you want to use my long irons and woods, feel free."
Jitterbug laughed. "You think I left those clubs at home on accident? Today I'm gonna work on my chipping, and when you got no long irons or woods, you can be sure you gonna have a lotta chip shots."
Well, it's his tournament, I thought.
After checking in, we made our way to the first tee, a 400-yard par four.
Jitterbug got to within twenty-five yards of the green with a couple of five-irons, flipped a wedge up to about four feet and wrestled in a par. The rest of the day went nearly the same. When Jitterbug couldn't get to the green, he'd lay up short and chip it close. On the eleventh hole, a long par three over water, Jitterbug hit a short pitch down to the ladies tee, a soft wedge to the green and made a ten-footer for par. When the round was over, Jitterbug had hit six greens and shot seventy-three. I hit eight greens and shot seventy-nine.
On the way home I said, "Well, I see what you mean about chipping, but they'll set the course up even longer tomorrow."
"Longer for who?" Jitterbug said. "It might be longer for everyone else, but the course is gonna seem short to me because I'm gonna have my woods back."
"Speaking of your woods, are you gonna practice some driver swings before tomorrow?"
Smiling, Jitterbug said, "No, I got my driver straightened out today."
Jitterbug must've noticed the bewildered look on my face. "You see, Bobby, if you know you can chip, you don't play scared. Playin' scared is what makes you hit your driver in the trees and your irons in the water because you think you gotta knock down the flagstick to have a chance at par. But if you know you can chip, if you're confident you can chip, if you plan to chip, you'll put a good positive pass on every club in your bag, including your driver."
"What about putting?" I said.
"I'm a good putter, Bobby," Jitterbug said. "On the other hand, if I can chip everything up to within a couple feet, how good a putter do I gotta be?"
I sat back in my seat, considering all this.
"Chipping is where the game is, Bobby. I'll take the guy who can chip over the guy who can hit the ball any day."
I'd never heard Jitterbug string so many sentences together. Maybe he was right, chipping is that important. Maybe I needed to reconsider how I practiced. Or, maybe all this talk about chipping was just an overflow of euphoria from having just finished the day at one over par on a 7000-yard course with nothing longer than a five-iron in his bag.
Whatever the case, it all made sense the next day when he and his partner went out and shot a combined eleven under par sixty-one to lead the two-day event by seven shots.