The Classic "Yank"

It's a BIG problem for most high handicappers and goes something like this:

You're in the tee box staring down a 450 yard par 5. You need a good long drive here. So you take a couple easy practice swings with your driver... line up your shot... take the club back... then -- somewhere in the back of your mind -- a little voice whispers to unload with everything you have.

And that's where the problems start.

You should NOT be thinking about "unloading" anything at the top of your swing. This leads to one of the biggest power-robbers ever conceived by man or beast -- the dreaded "yank" from the top. It activates your left shoulder, arms and hands (ALL of which should remain loose and tension free) and promotes a poor pivot (because your brain thinks your power is coming from the "yank" -- which is doesn't. It comes from the PIVOT).
The classic "yank" also results in your arms and hands coming "over-the-top", pulling the club off-plane, and eratic shots that spray the course like buck shot.

Okay... so here's the big tip of the day.

You must think "slower" and allow your pivot to take over your swing. Let the club accelerate near the ball instead of "blowing your wad" at the top. Think to yourself "I'm just gonna hit a nice easy 180 yarder". Do that and "whap" -- suddenly your shots are longer, straighter, and a heck of a lot more consistent.

Don't worry about how long you need to hit it, or "hitting it hard", or getting the club to the ball quickly, or anything like that. This is what prompts your brain into activating the "yank".
Instead be patient. Concentrate on keeping your left shoulder, arms and wrists loose and limber.
Do this and you’ll instantly have a slower, smoother, effortless looking power swing (your buddies will swear you’re just coasting).If it feels fast, it's not. If it feels slow and easy, it's fast. How's that for irony.

Golf

Golf
In my hand I hold a ball.... white and dimpled, rather small....
Oh , how bland it does appear.... this harmless looking little sphere....
By its size I could not guess.... the awesome strength it does possess....
But since I fell beneath its spell.... I've wandered through the fires of hell... .
My life has not been quite the same.... Since I chose to play this stupid game....

It rules my mind for hours on end... A fortune it has made me spend....
It has made me swear and yell and cry... . I hate myself and want to die....
It promises a thing called par....If I can hit straight and far..

To master such a tiny ball ... should not be very hard at all .
But my desires the ball refuses.... and does exactly like it chooses... .
It hooks and slices, dribbles and dies.... and even disappears before my eyes....

Often it will take a whim.... to hit a tree or take a swim. ..
With miles of grass on which to land.... it finds a tiny patch of sand....
Then has me offering up my soul.... if only it would find the hole.. ..

It's made me whimper like a pup. ... and swear that I will give it up....
And take a drink to ease my sorrow.... but the ball knows.....
I'll be back tomorrow!!!!