by Lawrence Poploski

Created on: February 16, 2011

I've seen the horror of the yips up close and personal.  While I've never personally been afflicted by this disease, I've seen it destroy strong men with horrific precision.  I've witnessed great players stand frozen over a ball on the putting green close enough to the cup for a stiff wind to blow it in, yet they are unable to make a stroke of their own volition without trembling like children in the dark worried about monsters under their bed.  

So what can be done to help those unfortunate to be struck down by golf's equivalent of self-immolation?  I have my theories, none of which have anything to do with mechanical solutions.  The yips is not a structural flaw in the golf swing as other disasters such as shanks or whiffs.  To the contrary, the yips is purely rooted deep in the psyche, out of reach of conventional methods of curing a golfing ill.  It hides squarely in that grey area separating body and mind, the place that allows some of us to see ghosts in the night, aliens in flying saucers and wisdom from politicians.  To dare enter this nether world, one must be willing to use unconventional means of travel.

One friend of mine suffering the yips tried taping a four-leaf clover to the back of his putter, something you would expect from him given he considers St. Patrick's Day a high holy day that is best celebrated by being high all day.  As you might expect, his lucky charm failed to cure his yips.  He's just traded in his 136th putter on E Bay convinced that somewhere is a club waiting to be discovered that will take the shake-and-bake out of his putting stroke.  

Another playing partner of mine had a 10 foot birdie putt on the first hole one Sunday morning and his come-back putt was twice that length, a disturbing matter insofar as his initial stroke was uphill.  He walked off the par four hole with an 8 on his scorecard which was the first of a half dozen five putts he had that day.  He had no more control over his short stick than an alcoholic has over drinking on a booze cruise.  The last time I saw him he was at the local sporting goods store getting fitted for a bowling ball even though he's never gone bowling in his life.  

I did run across one man who claims to have discovered a cure for the yips.  After struggling unsuccessfully with conventional and unconventional methods of ending the yip misery, he stumbled upon something he swears works.  He was on vacation in Jamaica and met a voodoo doctor.  My friend inquired desperately if voodoo might offer a remedy for the yips upon which the native wise man reached into his pockets and handed my friend an herbal potion, instructing him to drink it one hour prior to teeing it up on the golf course. Whatever it was, it worked like a charm.  This friend putts like a magician, holing mid and long range putts with alarming regularity.  I'm not sure what the potion consists of, but I have a hunch you might be able to put it into a pipe and smoke it.  

If you have the yips, you can either give bowling a shot or plan your next vacation to some sunny Caribbean Island where legend has it no one who plays the game has ever had a case of the yips.  Try that and I'm sure every ding gonna be alright, mun. Until then, fore.

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