Just as I sat to write, my brother FaceTime’s me from his American college, seeking council on the wonders of the golf swing and all its infuriating finite mysteries. Now, I do not profess to be anything more than a humble amateur but, having played at a national level, I do offer the occasional pearl of wisdom. Yet I am continually baffled by how the most competent of players can succumb to the imploding cruelty of miraculously losing their swing. This brings me to the man of the moment–Oliver Wilson.
A former Ryder cup star at the height of the game with the world seemingly at his feet, began to lose his powers in late 2010, and by the end of 2011, had failed to retain his card.
The emotions that such disappointment and failure carries can rock even the most stable of players to their very core. Suddenly the world doesn’t look so inviting. The rose tinted glasses of effortless golf have been replaced by the long shadow of doubt. Those bunkers look bigger, the fairways narrower and that haven of green turns into labyrinth with danger at every turn. Thoughts start to invade the mind:
What if I miss another cut? What will my sponsors say? What if I lose my sponsors? I can’t afford to lose them! Can I even afford my flight home?
In Wilson’s case, his swing seemed to have abandoned him to the abyss. So he set about rebuilding his game and went in search of the answers, delving into the depths of swing mechanics and biomechanics along the way. The further he delved the greater the distance became between him and his former self. The general consensus, including my own, cast the young Englishman into the analysis paralysis bracket. The golfing world resigned he had confused himself with too many detailed thoughts and had obviously lost sight that simply in golf we hit a little white ball into a hole in the ground–right?
Until last week it appeared the case, but then Wilson set about silencing his critics and produced a staggering display of golf that would hold off even the world’s number one golfer, Rory McIlroy, and lead him to his maiden European tour victory in the Alfred Dunhill Links Championship on his 228th start.
Wilson fired a superb 64 at Carnoustie in the opening round and followed it up with 65 at St Andrews on the 3rd day which left him sitting atop the leaderboard with a three shot lead heading into Sunday’s final round. Sunday wasn’t all plain sailing, as come the back nine Mcilroy and Fleetwood had joined the party and he no longer lead.
The critics were lined up, keyboards in hand, seemingly awaiting yet another agonising runners up story to add to the collection of the previous nine. Undeterred Wilson hit a god like iron shot that fizzed from the clubface and landed no more than a foot from the pin. Birdie! Follow that with a majestic wedge to 17 to grind out a gritty par and the tide was turning. The man who was too tied up in mechanics to deliver was doing exactly that. The swing flowed with controlled aggression. Positive. Decisive. Like the Wilson of old. When Fleetwood missed his put to force a playoff the title was his.
Wilson said in his interview with the European tour: ‘it’s been 11 years coming’.
Many players over the years have sought to rebuild their games and never return. Yet Wilson has found a way to pop his head back up amongst the clouds but only time will tell if he is to remain there. The ability to reinvent ones game has been achieved by a select few: Hogan, Woods and Faldo spring to mind. So things look good if he emulates his predecessors but until next time congratulations to all those who prove their critics wrong. Good golfing.
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