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If the gap between glowering golfer and amiable dilettante baffles Ogilvy watchers, it shouldn't. He has a searching mind because golf has made him search. You see, he was hitting tennis balls with a broomstick when he was 18 months old, and he was an Australian schoolboy champion. So why, he asked himself, can't I win the Australian Open as an amateur, like Aaron Baddeley, or be called the next Tiger Woods, like my best mate, Adam Scott?
The answers to these questions were all around him: in books, in videos, in conversations with smart people, and — crikey! — in himself, if only he could get out of his own way. Over time, for instance, it struck him that practicing like a disciplined pro was doing more harm than good, so he quit beating balls and began to work on "little things that make no sense to anyone else." He practiced putting with his eyes closed. He hit balls while focusing solely on the sounds: the click of impact, the thud of club on turf, the pfffffffftt of the ball whistling through the air. Whenever possible (and this took courage) Ogilvy regressed.
"Everything I do now, everything that works for me," he says, "is what I did instinctively when I was 12." You write that down, but it begs for amplification. "If I hit it bad on the range when I was 12, I'd stop and go to chip because it was no fun hitting it bad, and I liked to chip." He smiles. "A couple of days later I'd be hitting it well again."
Without a swing guru? Without a launch monitor? Without towels tucked in his armpits?
Ogilvy shakes his head. "Ten years ago I'd hit balls all day with a video camera," he says. "Then it was once a week. Now I can't remember the last time I looked at my video. It really doesn't matter how my swing looks. If it feels good and the ball is going good, it's good."
What if it's not going good?
"If I start hitting it bad, I simply go and chip." He smiles again. "When you hit enough golf shots in your life, you don't forget. Maybe you only need to take a week off to get rid of the last few weeks of crap." The 12-year-old mind, Ogilvy continues, "hasn't been clouded by theories, hasn't read any golf magazines. That's probably the best way to learn anything. By following your instincts." But if you're a hotshot junior, as Ogilvy was, you begin to think like a grown-up. "You say, 'I have to get serious. I have to work on my swing. I have to make 50 short putts before I leave.' "
It's the guilt factor. "Tiger's the best because he practices so hard, so you say, 'Well, I have to do that.' You do more gym, you hit more balls, and — surprise! — you don't get better. Tiger's genius is that he understands what he wants to change."
