The long-awaited package finally arrives, and it’s ripped open faster than an early release.
“It’s a foot wedge,” the hacker says to his forever skeptical smarter half.
She fails to share in his excitement as the hacker places the foot wedge on the ground. In his warped mind, he believes the foot wedge is the culmination of years of research by NASA engineers.
“It’s a piece of wood,” says the smarter half, trying to provide a reality check.
To some, this red device, which fits in the palm of the hand, might look like an ordinary piece of wood. But this invention, placed under the back foot, offers the elimination of swaying in the backswing.
“How much did you pay for it?” the skeptic says.
“Only $11.”
“Eleven dollars?” the smarter half says. “You spent $11 dollars on a piece of wood?”
The smarter half has reason to be concerned because she can’t open the closet without a slew of golf training gadgets falling on her. To make matters worse, the hacker still looks like he took up the game only yesterday.
And yet, if the hacker can get the one golf training aid that reveals the secret, that unlocks all the potential that certainly is stored up in him, it will be worth it.
Training aids are to golfers what a bottle of Miracle Hair would be to a balding man. They offer a sure cure.
The results often are about the same, but that doesn’t stop the golfer, as evidenced by any golf magazine. Scores of ads, with inventions ranging from straps to heavy clubs to, of course, the foot wedge, will help produce a swing like Lee Janzen’s in no time.
Golfers, like suckers at a carnival, will gobble them up because anything is better than nothing.
What’s the mentality of these golfers?
“Low,” laughed DeDe Owens, a teaching professional at Cog Hill in Lemont.
No debate here.
“Everybody is seeking an answer,” Owens said. “I’ve got a fortune in training aids I’ve never used on students.”
“They prey on the basic insecurity of golfers,” said Kim McCombs, who teaches and operates Pro World of Golf in Skokie. “Everyone wants that quick fix.”
Many are gimmicks. For $29.95, there’s the Swing-O-Meter, which measures clubhead speed. It’s a thermometer-like device that is attached to the shaft of the club.
Trouble is, the Swing-O-Meter doesn’t always stay attached during the swing. It can, however, fly 50 feet.
Larry Huffman of Concept Sports Inc. in Des Moines maintains his innovation, the Swing Pro, can help golfers. It’s a weighted club, but unlike most of this variety, the weights are placed on both ends, with a training grip in the middle. It’s designed to strengthen the golf muscles and help a proper release.
However, don’t expect to find it at McCombs’ store, and that’s not necessarily a knock at Huffman’s device. Pro World of Golf is one of the largest golf stores in the Midwest, offering a huge selection of clubs and accessories. But McCombs carries an extremely small inventory of training aids.
McCombs doesn’t believe in them.
“I’ve just found people aren’t really happy with training aids,” McCombs said. “If I’m selling something, I want to make sure I sell them the right thing. So many of these training aids aren’t going to do anything for anybody. You’ll make $10 and lose a customer.”
Owens also is skeptical. She does incorporate some training aids during her lessons, but only up to a point.
Owens won’t let a student use a training device for more than five or six swings. She believes in getting the golf club back in the hand as soon as possible.
“Otherwise, all you’re learning to do is swing with a training aid,” Owens said. “Using it in isolation is a waste of time.”
Huffman also believes a golfer will waste his time if he uses a swing device without knowing the fundamentals of the game. Swinging a training aid is a supplement, not a replacement, for learning the basics of the swing.
“They can serve a purpose if you know what that purpose is,” Huffman said. “You can’t buy a gimmick and expect it to do it all for you. That’s the trouble. Everyone wants to buy a golf game.”
McCombs thinks many golfers could save the large expense with some innovation of their own. He points to the Swing Link, a strap-like device that wraps around the arms and chest and is designed to emphasize body, not arm, movement through the swing. It costs around $30.
“With my students, I’ll put two nickels under their arms, which makes them keep their arms linked,” McCombs said. “You get the same effect, and my device costs 10 cents.”
Wonder what he could do with a piece of wood.
