Following is a guest post by Dr. Eric Wilson. Dr. Wilson is a PGA Master Professional in Instruction at the College of Golf, a Keiser University school in Port St. Lucie, FL.

Every year the cream of the crop in the field of golf descends on Augusta for the Masters tournament.  The Augusta National Golf Club, first opened in January of 1933 for play, has hosted the Masters since 1934. Currently ranked the number one golf course in the United States by Golf Digest, it’s one of the top courses in the world. The course, known to be unforgiving, is the ultimate challenge to any golfer. But why? What makes the Augusta national golf course so tough?

Golfers who have had the chance to play Augusta, quite often talk of the “mystery” of the course.  It is said that knowledge of the course is just as important, or perhaps more important, than a player’s actual golf skill.  Players study the course, sometimes drawing diagrams to get a feel for it. Not understanding Augusta National Golf Course can result in disaster and a very poorly played game. And studying and getting a feel for the course isn’t easy: over the past few decades several changes have been made to the course, resulting in an additional 500 yards. So, what you learned about the course last year may not hold up this year.

Augusta golf course is very topical, with lots of peaks and valleys. This in and of itself makes for a difficult course. The course designer, Alister MacKenzie, definitely knew what he was doing.  With a difficult topography, sometimes even standing correctly can be a challenge. A slope on the fairway can make balance an issue, greatly throwing off a player’s swing.

Placement of waterways, trees and other greenery also makes the course extremely difficult.  Add the tightness of the fairways and you can see why this is one of the most difficult golf courses in the world. It can get the best of even the most talented players in the field, as witnessed by Tiger Wood’s 4^th place standing at this year’s Masters.

Weather and wind can also change this course drastically, so players need to be completely on their game every time they attempt to play and get the best of the course. This means paying attention to the daily conditions and being extra careful in deciding which club to use for which stroke.

Ray Floyd, who played the Masters 45 times and announced his retirement this year at Augusta, says that when players discuss how well they think they will do at Augusta, they tend to talk in code.

“They say, ‘I have a good eye for the course,’ or ‘I feel confident with the golf course,’ ” Floyd said.  “What they’re saying is that they have enough knowledge to play it. They know where to hit the ball. They know when they can be aggressive and when they can’t.”

Players respect the course, and while they recognize its difficulty, they also treat it with reverence. It’s a stunningly beautiful course, and they know it. Augusta also isn’t for the faint of heart. A pro golfer can spend his whole career battling this golf course, never feeling like he won.

Some players and fans of the game of golf think that the course is actually too difficult and makes it almost impossible for someone to play his best. They argue that if a course is too difficult to play, it takes not only the fun, but the sport out of the game. But others, like golfer Kenny Perry, appreciate the difficulties associated with the course.

Perry sums it up nicely: “It’s an ingenious design. I don’t know why someone doesn’t design another course like it.” Someone may have, but I’ve never played it if it’s out there.

About the Author:

Dr. Eric Wilson is a PGA Master Professional in Instruction at the College of Golf, a Keiser University school in Port St. Lucie, FL. The College of Golf offers students the opportunity to study at a professional golfers career college.

What was going wrong with your game six months ago?  What was going right? How about three months ago? How have you spent most of your practice time over the last 12 months?  How many lessons have you taken?  What did you learn at each one?  How did your play and practice following each lesson improve?  Or did it degrade first?

Hopefully you see where I’m going with this.

Looking at the poll currently in my sidebar, a vast majority of respondents want to make significant improvement in their golf games this season.  That’s a pretty lofty goal, but it’s certainly achievable for just about everyone.  What each of us considers to be significant improvement is certainly a subjective measure, but how do we know when we’ve been meeting our goals?

What if the goal was weight loss? Or, what if it is to learn oil painting? Or, what if the goal is to visit all 50 states in the U.S.?

Fortunately, it’s usually fairly easy to recognize when a goal has been met.  If the goal is to lose 50 pounds, when the scale says that 50 pounds are gone, the goal has obviously been met.  On the flip side, it’s sometimes difficult to figure out why goals haven’t been met or if we’re even on track to meet them anymore.

That’s where keeping a journal comes in. It can help us look back over time and figure out why the scale isn’t changing or why our golf handicaps are stagnant or why our painting looks like someone just spilled paint on the floor.

One of the things humans do well is, we delude ourselves into thinking that the status quo is fine or that we are making progress when we’re really not.  We also tend to have selective memory and to take the path of least resistance.

This is something that I’ve discussed extensively over the years, but why do people tend to spend most of their time at the driving range instead of around the practice green when we all know that the practice green is where we’re going to have the biggest effect on score?  Why do people stand at the driving range hitting driver after driver after driver, when they know they’re not hitting any greens in regulation and they’re three-putting most greens?

Keeping a journal isn’t going to fix that, but having a plan will.  And keeping a journal will help you stay on plan and help you evaluate your progress as time goes on.

In a lot of ways, Life in the Rough is a journal for me.  I try to do semi-regular progress updates to keep track of where my game is going.  I also keep track of statistics, which is another form of journal.

A while back, I felt the need to keep track of my practice and play in a more immediate, personal way.  I don’t write progress update posts for every event that happens in my golfing life so details are forgotten and lost over time.  I keep statistics for many of the rounds that I play, but the numbers don’t really reflect what was going on that day. Things like amount of confidence or swing tendencies can be lost in the numbers.

Believe it or not, I’ve found that despite the fact that we live in the age of computers, that keeping a journal with old fashioned pen and paper works best for me.

Logically, it wouldn’t seem like that should be the case.  After all, with a computer journal, if you can type reasonably well, you can put down a lot of information in a shorter amount of time.  It can be organized in a myriad of ways. It’s easy to be able to search through the data.  You can e-mail it, edit it from many locations, or share it on a website.

However, I’ve found that these modern conveniences don’t really affect or enhance the biggest benefits of keeping a paper journal.  Based on my experience for the last 7 1/2 months, here are the benefits I see with keeping a paper journal as well as reasons why doing it electronically doesn’t really add anything compelling enough to make me want to computerize it.

• It’s available anywhere. I can pick it up and take it with me to the driving range or read/write in bed right before going to sleep. I could achieve the same thing with my iPhone, but typing out a bunch is kind of time consuming and cumbersome. I don’t need to boot up my PC or laptop, I can just immediately chronicle my practice and play whenever I’m inspired to do so.
• It’s personal. The journal is for me, not for sharing online with all of you. It’s not that I mind telling you what’s in there, but I can feel free to whine and complain or brag or express other emotions that I might not want to share with the world.
• Writing by hand tends to lend itself to more careful thought and consideration. I can certainly sit down with my laptop and perform a brain dump relatively quickly. I can type out every little detail that comes to mind however unimportant it might be. Writing my journal by hand, however, is a slower process.  It forces me to sit there and reflect on what I’m trying to capture. Not only does it force me to limit it to what’s important, but the deliberate reflection helps me learn from what happened at the range or practice green, so that I can adapt my plans for the future. It helps me think about what’s going wrong right then and there instead of having to worry about it down the road when I’ve gotten frustrated enough.
• I like leafing through and scanning old entries.  Every so often, I pick up the journal and flip through it, trying to see how my swing has progressed. It’s much more pleasurable to do that than to sit at my computer and try and read back through a file of huge brain dumps.
• Searching is overrated. We all know that Google has made information more readily available to the world.  It’s natural to expect that having a journal that is searchable would be a big benefit, too.  However, I’ve found that I just don’t want to use it that way. I don’t have trouble with my driver and then wish I could type “driver problem” into my journal and get a list of every time I had driver trouble so that I can see the trends and how I fixed it.  Even as I’m re-reading this paragraph, I can’t help thinking that would be useful. Believe me when I tell you, I can’t explain why, but it’s just not.  In general, it seems like searching is beneficial when I want to boil down another person’s information.  With my own information, the personal connection is enough.  Maybe it’s because my journal is relatively small, so it’s easy to find things. Even I use the search box on Life in the Rough because there’s too much information to sift through to find something.  With my journal, though, I don’t miss it one bit.

Don’t get me wrong. Having an electronic journal is better than having none.  If you can’t bring yourself to put pen to paper, I understand.  The most important thing is to have some kind of plan and to use a journal of some kind to make sure you’re sticking to it and to help you understand what’s going wrong so that you can refine your plan.

I recommend trying a paper journal. I think you’ll find it has the same strengths that I outlined above and that the weaknesses are no big deal.  If you don’t like it, you can always go electronic without much hassle.  Whichever way you go, give it a try.  It will help you keep your golf improvement plan on track.

We all know golf is a game of misses.  The only shots that come off exactly as we want are the ones that go in the hole, and many times they still didn’t happen exactly as we wanted. Have you ever made a putt that hit the hole so hard, it popped a few inches in the air before falling? Then you know what I mean.

So often, I find myself (and observe others) being fixated on the cup, no matter what it will take to get there.  I contend that, sometimes, the best play is to miss on purpose.  Maybe calling it “missing on purpose” isn’t the best way to state it. Let’s refine that to mean that we choose a target different from our natural tendency to shoot for the hole, the flag, or the green itself.

Sometimes, it’s an obvious choice and sometimes, it’s not.

Take, for example, your classic sucker pin.  Say the flag is tucked way to the side, behind water, just on the green, with a nasty bunker off to that side.  I think we would all agree that the play there is to shoot for the safest part of the green.  Of course, knowing that and doing that are two separate things.

I’m amazed how many players will shoot at that pin every time.  Yet, I do think that we’d all agree that, academically, going for it is the wrong play (in most circumstances) and that we should consider going for the fat part of the green.

OK, so we agree that we all can bring ourselves to miss on purpose sometimes.  How about when it’s not so obvious?

Here’s a situation I had to deal with a while back. I was faced with a putt of somewhere between ten and 20 feet, up over a hump and then severely downhill to the pin, which was right at the base of the down-slope.  The green was playing very fast that day.

Going at the flag, it was clear that if I didn’t hit the hole, that I would easily be ten or even fifteen feet past.  Even if I did hit the hole, at that speed, it could have easily hopped over or hit the lip and shot off to the left or right.

I saw something, though, that gave me a little window of hope: the hump ran perpendicular in front of me and then curved up toward left side of the hole but toward the left it flattened out much closer to me than it did in the area down straight toward the hole.

It occurred to me that if my target was a spot around five or six feet left of the hole, I could safely stop the ball there and virtually guarantee myself a second putt of six feet or less, which I felt confident that I could make because it was relatively flat down on that level.

And that’s exactly what I did.  I aimed six feet to the left of the hole, to give myself a second putt that I had a good chance of making.  I don’t remember whether I made the six-footer, but I’m confident that I made the right decision.

It occurred to me at that moment that sometimes I have to be prepared to miss on purpose to give myself the best chance to score.

Here’s another example.  I wish I could point to a specific course and hole, but if you watch enough golf on TV, you will certainly have seen this.

Every so often there’s a situation where a green isn’t very receptive (it’s firm and fast) and where players are forced to hit long shots into it.  Typically, there will be trouble behind, maybe a hazard, or a collection area leaving a tough pitch with not a lot of green to work with.

What you’ll see is a number of players intentionally aiming for a green-side bunker in front or to the side of the green.

Most of us amateurs don’t have it in our wiring to aim for a bunker.  However, given the situation I just described, having an uphill bunker shot with plenty of green to work with gives them the best chance to make par or even birdie (for instance, on a drivable par four, a short par five, or a long par three).

Given the alternative of taking a long shot into an unreceptive green with trouble off the back, a simple bunker shot can be quite appealing.  It might not be so appealing if you have a paralyzing fear of hitting from the sand, but that’s an issue for another day.

It might not be very often you’re faced with decisions like these.  Shooting for the fat part of the green might be an obvious choice, but other circumstances are more tricky.  Shooting for the fat part of the green isn’t even a miss, so much, because our target is probably the fat part of the green to start. It’s the times when we’re naturally fixated on going for the hole when this all means something.

To put up the best score possible, we need to be able to creatively think about course management and how we select and play each shot to put the lowest possible number on the scorecard.  Sometimes the choices are obvious.  Many times, they are not.

We typically mentally allow for some degree of miss, but setting out to miss is not something most of us are comfortable doing when we are naturally resolved to go for the hole or for the green.  Be ready to do it when the situation calls for it, and you’ll be adding a little more shine to your course management skill.

I have not felt this positive about my game at any time since I started this adventure.  Not at the beginning of any season, not at the end of any season, and certainly not at the high-point of any season.

I am hitting the ball as well now as I have in years.  I’m finally hitting the shots that I know I have inside me.  The ones that I’ve had at my command in years past that led me to believe that this undertaking is not a fool’s errand.

I think I have finally started to resolve my takeaway problems, where I was taking the club back outside the line, initially.  That put me in poor position at the top and left me with no way to reliably make consistent contact.  I’m going to explore my thoughts on the reason for this in another post, but I think it has something to do with not playing golf (rough winter) since last November.  It’s as if I erased the chalkboard and started with a clean slate.

Saturday, after some practice, I went out for a round.  I played the front nine for score and kind of messed around on the back nine.  I scored a 41 on the front, in some adverse conditions.  The course had standing water everywhere, it was windy, and most of the greens had been top-dressed.

Normally, during my first few rounds of the year, I struggle to find any semblance of a game and might not even break 90.  In 2009, my first three GHIN posted scores were 98, 90, and 89.  This year, my first time out in four months, I shot 41 in tough conditions.

On Sunday, I had my first lesson of the year and that put the final pieces of the puzzle in place and left me with the most confidence that I’ve had in years.

My pro confirmed that my long standing takeaway problem seemed to be gone.  Mostly, anyway.  Every once in a while, it pops up here and there, but I am diligently working on grooving the correct move, so it will become habit before long.

He also pointed out two interesting things that sort of grew out of the issues I was fighting last year.  My primary miss was a massive pull-hook, caused from coming somewhat over the top, with a steep angle of attack.  For most people, this would result in a slice, but I usually managed to flip my hands closed, giving me that huge left miss.

But sometimes, it would also give me a giant block to the right, meaning that there was no consistency in my misses.  That kind of uncertainty has a way of eroding confidence.  I had stretches where I could time things well and sort of had the illusion that things were fixed, but invariably they would break again.

Out of that big left-left miss grew two compensations.  First, I was starting to address the ball with more and more of an open club face.  Because that started to have me sending the ball more right (I fought some slicing late last year), and because I had a tendency to be misaligned to the right at address, I gradually started to be misaligned to the left.

Very quickly, my pro had me squaring my club face at address and had me aligning my stance to be more square.  The square club face looked very closed to me, so I know it’s something that’s been happening for a long time.

Immediately, though, I started hitting shots that were very pure and consistent.

One thing that I do still need to work on is that my tempo gets a little quick with my longer clubs.  Mentally, I think this is the result of subconsciously (or maybe even consciously) thinking that long clubs are for distance, not precision, so they need some “oomph” to get the ball out there.

Intellectually, I know that’s not a good thought to be swirling around in my head, but somehow it was happening.  When I let go of this idea and made my transition more smooth, I started hitting the ball much better with my longer clubs.  That’s going to require more work, but I’ve already been seeing the results.

After my lesson, I went out for another nine holes and shot a 42 this time, in even tougher conditions.  It was even more windy and it was raining on top of it.  I hit my approach fat on the 9th hole and followed that up with a skulled pitch.  These are shots that are normally very solid for me.  Had I hit them like normal, I was looking at a score of 40 instead of 42, but hey, I got what I deserved.

The bottom line is, my confidence is running extremely high right now.  I can’t wait to get out and practice some more.  For the first time in a while, getting on the course to play is feeling like my time to shine and not just time for me to put work in and to get a grip on whichever flaws need the most work.

Don’t get me wrong – there’s plenty of room for refinement and improvement, but I feel that for the first time, it’s more a matter of putting in work than it is a matter of solving a puzzle.

Let me guess:  no?

The beauty of the Rules of Golf is that the book is small and can easily fit into your golf bag.  I know, the decisions book is a different story, but having the roles handy is a good start.

I keep the Rules in my bag because the last thing I want is to get out on the course and not know how to proceed and just have to wing it, only to find out that I have to tack a mountain of strokes to my score, or even worse, I’m disqualified.

It’s not a big deal if you’re just out playing for fun, but in a tournament situation, or when you’re competing seriously (i.e. for money and/or glory), you want to have the answers at arm’s reach.

Still not going to pack the Rules in your bag?  OK, I get it.  Fortunately, there’s one rule to remember in case of emergency that will help you out of a jam.

Rule 3-3, “Doubt as to Procedure” will help you, should you find yourself not sure how to proceed in a given situation during stroke play.

Here’s the highlight of the rule, as of this date:

In stroke play, if a competitor is doubtful of his rights or the correct procedure during the play of a hole, he may, without penalty, complete the hole with two balls.

After the doubtful situation has arisen and before taking further action, the competitor must announce to his marker or a fellow-competitor that he intends to play two balls and which ball he wishes to count if the Rules permit.

The competitor must report the facts of the situation to the Committee before returning his score card. If he fails to do so, he is disqualified.

You can read the entire rule here.

Basically, what the rule provides is the ability to work past a dispute if no official is available to make a ruling, without significantly delaying play.  It’s much quicker to play a second ball and to figure it out later than it is to stand around debating the issue for five or ten minutes.

This isn’t the first time I posted about Rule 3-3, but that was a few years ago, and it’s a good one to know, so it’s not something I mind covering again.  Incidentally, have a look at that old post if you want to read about one of the most famous and disputed uses of Rule 3-3, involving Arnold Palmer.  It’s still controversial over 50 years later.

I suggest putting a copy of the Rules in your bag, but if you won’t, then at least remember Rule 3-3 because it will eventually come in handy.