For All Who Love the Game: Lessons and Teachings for Women [NOOK Book]

Overview

EVERY WOMAN CAN PLAY GREAT GOLF

Known in the world of golf as one of the game's greatest teachers, Harvey Penick worked with U.S. Open winners, great champions, and five out of the thirteen women who are members of the LPGA Hall of Fame. Mickey Wright, Sandra Palmer, Betsy Rawls, Kathy Whitworth, Judy Rankin, and Betty Jameson all had the privilege and honor of working with Penick. While he was proud of their success and achievements, Penick ...
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For All Who Love the Game: Lessons and Teachings for Women

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Overview

EVERY WOMAN CAN PLAY GREAT GOLF

Known in the world of golf as one of the game's greatest teachers, Harvey Penick worked with U.S. Open winners, great champions, and five out of the thirteen women who are members of the LPGA Hall of Fame. Mickey Wright, Sandra Palmer, Betsy Rawls, Kathy Whitworth, Judy Rankin, and Betty Jameson all had the privilege and honor of working with Penick. While he was proud of their success and achievements, Penick took just as much pleasure from the accomplishments of the countless women who came to him hoping only to be able to hit a ball in the air for the very first time.

In For All Who Love the Game, Harvey shares the lessons he's learned from female golfers: techniques to help women gain greater physical and psychological power, advice on the perfect swing, and tips for developing areas of the game where women can and should outplay their male counterparts. Interwoven with Penick's ever-present blend of common sense and insight, For All Who Love the Game is a gift to every woman who wants to enjoy the game of golf to its fullest.
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Editorial Reviews

Bill Ott
It's easy to understand why near nonagenarian Harvey Penick has become a best-selling author with the publication of two unprepossessing golf instructionals," Harvey Penick's Little Red Book" (1992) and "And If You Play Golf, You're My Friend (1993). The human animal has an extremely limited capacity for thinking while swinging a golf club, a fact that most teachers of the sport have never properly recognized. Not Penick. His swing tips are succinct, simple, and goal directed, whether he's telling you to clip a tee in the backyard or practice chip shots under a card table. Similarly, his philosophical musings on the game, while sometimes engagingly enigmatic, always have a practical point. His third book is aimed at women golfers, though plenty of his advice will be appropriate for those of either sex. He does, however, make several telling points relating specifically to women: why women have such naturally good short games, for example, and how women can develop "golfing muscles." Readers of both the the previous books will find some repetition here, but Penick's homespun wisdom always bears repeating. A must where golf books are popular.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781439128732
  • Publisher: Simon & Schuster
  • Publication date: 11/22/2011
  • Sold by: SIMON & SCHUSTER
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 192
  • Sales rank: 785,975
  • File size: 3 MB

Meet the Author

Harvey Penick lives in Austin, Texas, with his wife Helen. This is his first book.
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Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

Lessons in the Afternoon

It was early on a hot Saturday afternoon in July. I had already been at the club watching Sandra Palmer hit balls for an hour or so. Now I was back at home in my lounge chair in the living room, feeling sort of achy and drained by the sun.

I thought I would have a bowl of soup and a sandwich for lunch. Then I would read my mail and answer a few letters before the Women's Open appeared on TV in a little while. Sandra was spending the weekend at our house, and she planned to come from the practice range to watch the tournament with me. Watching the Open while sitting with an Open champion like Sandra is a thrill for me. I knew it would pick up my spirits.

But my son, Tinsley, walked in the front door and said, "Dad, we need you at the club."

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"A woman needs your help."

"Does it have to be right now?" I asked.

"Dad, she has come a long way and is eager to see you."

Ordinarily what Tinsley had said would have roused me to get into my golf cart and return to the club at once. I could never turn down a woman in distress. On this day, though, with the temperature above one hundred degrees and several things at home I wanted to be doing, it was hard for me to think about moving.

"What seems to be her problem?" I asked.

"She can't get the ball into the air," Tinsley said.

That was all I needed to hear.

"Help me out of this chair," I said.

Teaching frustrated women golfers to hit the ball into the air is a challenge I love, one that when accomplished brings forth such a roar of joy from both the pupil and the teacher that I get goose bumps that make me feel I'm in the middle of an electrical storm.

An attractive woman was waiting in the practice area when I arrived in my golf cart. She introduced herself as Susan Baker. She said her husband, Jim, was out on the course playing golf. They lived back and forth between Houston and Washington, D.C., she said, but were in Austin to attend a wedding.

"Use your 7-iron and let me see you hit a few balls," I said.

What I needed to know first was whether her frustration was caused by the path of her swing or by the angle of her clubface.

Her swing looked pretty good to me, but every ball She hit rolled about thirty yards along the ground.

"I've had a number of lessons, and yet I just keep on doing this," she said.

I looked at her hands on the club. Her grip seemed reasonable. But having seen that her swing was all right, I knew her grip had to be the villain

I asked her to remove her glove and take her grip again.

Sure enough, that is where the culprit lay concealed.

When she took her grip, both hands were pretty much under the handle. But then she twisted her flesh around so that her bad grip was disguised to look like a reasonable grip.

"Would you mind if we back up a little and start over?" I asked.

"Please do," she said.

"Let's forget the word 'grip.' Let's just think about placing your hands on the club. Please let me guide you into placing them. Look at how your hands hang naturally at your sides. Now place your left hand on the handle with a natural feeling so that you can glance down and see three knuckles. That's right. That's how I want it. Leave it just like that, without twisting. Now place your right hand on the handle so that your lifeline in your palm fits against your thumb. That's very good."

I leaned over and touched her left elbow.

"Let go of the tension in your elbows," I said.

Instead, she let go of the club with her hands. That always happens at first. I asked her to place her hands back on the handle as she had done before, without rolling her left arm or twisting her flesh. Just place her hands on the handle and hold it lightly.

I touched her left elbow again.

"Without letting go of the club, allow the tension to go out of your elbows and your shoulders," I said.

I saw her elbows soften. Her shoulders became less rigid.

I clapped my hands with approval.

"Now look at a spot on the grass and make me a nice practice swing, hitting the spot."

Susan made several good-looking practice swings that brushed the grass.

"Now put a tee in the ground," I said. "We don't need a ball yet. Just a tee. Please make me a nice swing and hit that tee. Feel that you are swinging easy, but hit that tee hard enough to cut if off or knock it out of the ground."

After Susan did this half a dozen times, clipping that tee with a good, smooth, full swing, I asked her to put a ball on the tee.

"Now, disregard the ball but go ahead and give that tee a healthy crack," I said.

Susan hit that ball out of my sight. My eyes are not as sharp as they once were, but I could tell she had hit it well over a hundred yards in the air with her 7-iron.

Susan screamed with pleasure. She jumped up and down. She leaped over and kissed me. I was tingling from head to toe.

"I never thought it was possible!" she said. "Let's do it again."

She did it several more times, cutting off the tee with a nice swing, the ball flying out there more than a hundred yards, plenty high with a little tail on it.

"Now, pull out your 3-wood," I said.

I saw a moment of fear in her eyes.

"Trust me," I said. "You know how to do it. Treat this club just as you have been treating the other one."

Well, what do you think happened?

With her 3-wood, Susan hit the ball 170 yards.

She was astonished. She was so thrilled that tears rushed to her eyes.

My arms turned white with goose bumps.

"Now, please listen to me," I said. "I want you to remember. What we did here today -- or rather what you did -- it works the same in Houston in or Washington, D.C., as it does at Austin Country Club. Always remember that, and you will be fine from now on."

I asked Susan to enjoy the game of golf to its fullest and please come back and see me anytime she thought she needed me.

"Please give my regards to your husband," I said.

Driving me home in my golf cart, Tinsley said, "Do you know who her husband is?"

"Jim," I said

"Her husband is James Baker. He was secretary of state and chief of staff for President Bush."

I am not a political person, but I do have a soft spot for President Bush. He wrote me a letter about golf and life that he hand typed himself. His letter is framed on the wall of my little bedroom at the front of the house. In the middle of the night when pain keeps me awake, I often look at that letter and pinch myself to be sure it's real, that a president sat down and typed a letter to a grown caddie.

Back at the house, Sandra was watching the Open on television. As I settled into my lounge chair again, Sandra caught me up on what had been happening.

The Swedish star Helen Alfredsson had started the Saturday round with a big lead on the field. But her game was faltering.

As I began watching, she was in the struggle of losing eight strokes to par in ten holes. It was painful to see. I felt sorry for her. Such things happen to even the best players, and all golfers know it. But still my heart went out to this handsome young woman who has so much talent.

All of a sudden, with several holes yet to play, the television network cut short my suffering on Helen Alfredsson's behalf, as well as what joy I would be receiving from the rise of Patty Sheehan and other fine players in the Women's Open -- and my pleasure at listening to the TV commentary by Judy Rankin, who used to be a pupil of mine.

A man's voice on the television told us they were leaving the Women's Open because their time was up. The network switched to some kind of track meet in Russia.

"Do you think they would do that if this was the Men's Open?" Sandra said. "What if some prominent man player was losing a big lead, and some other prominent men players were making a charge? Would the network switch away to a track meet that was taped earlier in another country? Would they dare do that to men?"

"I don't think so," I said.

"You know darn well they wouldn't," Sandra said. She headed toward the door.

"I'm going back to the practice tee," she said. "They won't let me watch the Women's Open, but they can't stop me from practicing."

So I read my mail and answered letters. It was too hot for anything else. But I felt better now than when I came home earlier in the day.

Remembering Susan Baker's cry of pleasure when she saw that ball fly out there 170 yards, I kept smiling. Moments like that make my life fulfilled.

And if enough Susan Bakers find joy and satisfaction in the great game of golf, maybe someday that network will treat the world's finest women players with the same respect it reserves for men.

Copyright © 1995 by Harvey Penick, Bud Shrake and Helen Penick
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Table of Contents


Contents

Introductions

Foreword

Lessons in the Afternoon

Helping It Up

Hit It Hard

Judy's Grip

A Practice Procedure

Three Games in One

The Card Table -- Under and Under

The Card Table -- Under but Over

A Fundamental

Picking a Putter

A Call in the Night

A Story by Helen

The Picture Show

Swing Thoughts

How to Have Both Golf and a Marriage

What's Your Hurry?

Playing the Breaks

The Best

A Champ and Her Children

A Golf Tip

The Vital Long Chip Shot

How Many Wedges?

Get a Feeling Fit

A Matter of Touch

No Mote Whiffs

The Lady in the Bunker

A View from the Window

Steady Head

Practice at Home

Practice the Short Ones

The Wright Way

Starting Your Swing

Let's Call Harvey

Be Yourself

Good Posture

Charging Betsy

My Banquet Speech

An Outlook on Putting

Thin Air

Keep at It

An Aspirin for Sarasota

Women's Tees

Refresh Yourself

The Basic Shot

Learning

How Much Is Enough?

Labor Day

She Does It All

A Cure for Mary Ann or Anyone Else

The Cactus Patch

The Left Wrist

Loft Is Your Friend

Strike It

Quick Cure

Swing Weights

Earl's Pearl

Skip the Details

Ruthe the Champ

Big-Chested Women

Women's Grips

Rolling with Mary Lena

Positive Attitude

Use What Fits

A Romance

Post It

Universal Advice

A Story by Mickey Wright

When to Offer Golf Advice to Your Spouse

A Story by Betsy Rawls

Enough Is Enough

Learn Etiquette from Barbara

Perceptions

Another Reason to Clip the Tee

Follow the Line

A Helping Hand from a Legend

Exercise

Listen to the Swish

Divots

Dropped at the Top

You Want Straight or You Want Far?

Alignment

Watch Your Step

Confidence

Advice from JoAnne

But We're Not Robots

Like a Violin

Home

About Betty Jameson

A Story by Paula Granoff

Uphill and Downhill

Scrambling

The Golf Ball Test

Where There's a Will...

Compliment from the Haig

Checking Ball Position

Big Enough

A Prayer

The Natural Way

Dressing

Remembering Babe

f0 Know Your Own Game

Howdy Do

Playing Pregnant

Shut Your Eyes

A Mind Game

Patty's First Time

The Fifty-Yard Pitch Shot

Where Do Those Strange Shots Come From?

A Story by Susan Watkins

Nicole Remembers

Our Daughter Sandra
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First Chapter

Chapter 1 Lessons in the Afternoon

It was early on a hot Saturday afternoon in July. I had already been at the club watching Sandra Palmer hit balls for an hour or so. Now I was back at home in my lounge chair in the living room, feeling sort of achy and drained by the sun.

I thought I would have a bowl of soup and a sandwich for lunch. Then I would read my mail and answer a few letters before the Women's Open appeared on TV in a little while. Sandra was spending the weekend at our house, and she planned to come from the practice range to watch the tournament with me. Watching the Open while sitting with an Open champion like Sandra is a thrill for me. I knew it would pick up my spirits.

But my son, Tinsley, walked in the front door and said, "Dad, we need you at the club."

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"A woman needs your help."

"Does it have to be right now?" I asked.

"Dad, she has come a long way and is eager to see you."

Ordinarily what Tinsley had said would have roused me to get into my golf cart and return to the club at once. I could never turn down a woman in distress. On this day, though, with the temperature above one hundred degrees and several things at home I wanted to be doing, it was hard for me to think about moving.

"What seems to be her problem?" I asked.

"She can't get the ball into the air," Tinsley said.

That was all I needed to hear.

"Help me out of this chair," I said.

Teaching frustrated women golfers to hit the ball into the air is a challenge I love, one that when accomplished brings forth such a roar of joy from both the pupil and the teacher that I get goose bumps that make me feel I'm in the middle of an electrical storm.

An attractive woman was waiting in the practice area when I arrived in my golf cart. She introduced herself as Susan Baker. She said her husband, Jim, was out on the course playing golf. They lived back and forth between Houston and Washington, D.C., she said, but were in Austin to attend a wedding.

"Use your 7-iron and let me see you hit a few balls," I said.

What I needed to know first was whether her frustration was caused by the path of her swing or by the angle of her clubface.

Her swing looked pretty good to me, but every ball She hit rolled about thirty yards along the ground.

"I've had a number of lessons, and yet I just keep on doing this," she said.

I looked at her hands on the club. Her grip seemed reasonable. But having seen that her swing was all right, I knew her grip had to be the villain

I asked her to remove her glove and take her grip again.

Sure enough, that is where the culprit lay concealed.

When she took her grip, both hands were pretty much under the handle. But then she twisted her flesh around so that her bad grip was disguised to look like a reasonable grip.

"Would you mind if we back up a little and start over?" I asked.

"Please do," she said.

"Let's forget the word 'grip.' Let's just think about placing your hands on the club. Please let me guide you into placing them. Look at how your hands hang naturally at your sides. Now place your left hand on the handle with a natural feeling so that you can glance down and see three knuckles. That's right. That's how I want it. Leave it just like that, without twisting. Now place your right hand on the handle so that your lifeline in your palm fits against your thumb. That's very good."

I leaned over and touched her left elbow.

"Let go of the tension in your elbows," I said.

Instead, she let go of the club with her hands. That always happens at first. I asked her to place her hands back on the handle as she had done before, without rolling her left arm or twisting her flesh. Just place her hands on the handle and hold it lightly.

I touched her left elbow again.

"Without letting go of the club, allow the tension to go out of your elbows and your shoulders," I said.

I saw her elbows soften. Her shoulders became less rigid.

I clapped my hands with approval.

"Now look at a spot on the grass and make me a nice practice swing, hitting the spot."

Susan made several good-looking practice swings that brushed the grass.

"Now put a tee in the ground," I said. "We don't need a ball yet. Just a tee. Please make me a nice swing and hit that tee. Feel that you are swinging easy, but hit that tee hard enough to cut if off or knock it out of the ground."

After Susan did this half a dozen times, clipping that tee with a good, smooth, full swing, I asked her to put a ball on the tee.

"Now, disregard the ball but go ahead and give that tee a healthy crack," I said.

Susan hit that ball out of my sight. My eyes are not as sharp as they once were, but I could tell she had hit it well over a hundred yards in the air with her 7-iron.

Susan screamed with pleasure. She jumped up and down. She leaped over and kissed me. I was tingling from head to toe.

"I never thought it was possible!" she said. "Let's do it again."

She did it several more times, cutting off the tee with a nice swing, the ball flying out there more than a hundred yards, plenty high with a little tail on it.

"Now, pull out your 3-wood," I said.

I saw a moment of fear in her eyes.

"Trust me," I said. "You know how to do it. Treat this club just as you have been treating the other one."

Well, what do you think happened?

With her 3-wood, Susan hit the ball 170 yards.

She was astonished. She was so thrilled that tears rushed to her eyes.

My arms turned white with goose bumps.

"Now, please listen to me," I said. "I want you to remember. What we did here today -- or rather what you did -- it works the same in Houston in or Washington, D.C., as it does at Austin Country Club. Always remember that, and you will be fine from now on."

I asked Susan to enjoy the game of golf to its fullest and please come back and see me anytime she thought she needed me.

"Please give my regards to your husband," I said.

Driving me home in my golf cart, Tinsley said, "Do you know who her husband is?"

"Jim," I said

"Her husband is James Baker. He was secretary of state and chief of staff for President Bush."

I am not a political person, but I do have a soft spot for President Bush. He wrote me a letter about golf and life that he hand typed himself. His letter is framed on the wall of my little bedroom at the front of the house. In the middle of the night when pain keeps me awake, I often look at that letter and pinch myself to be sure it's real, that a president sat down and typed a letter to a grown caddie.

Back at the house, Sandra was watching the Open on television. As I settled into my lounge chair again, Sandra caught me up on what had been happening.

The Swedish star Helen Alfredsson had started the Saturday round with a big lead on the field. But her game was faltering.

As I began watching, she was in the struggle of losing eight strokes to par in ten holes. It was painful to see. I felt sorry for her. Such things happen to even the best players, and all golfers know it. But still my heart went out to this handsome young woman who has so much talent.

All of a sudden, with several holes yet to play, the television network cut short my suffering on Helen Alfredsson's behalf, as well as what joy I would be receiving from the rise of Patty Sheehan and other fine players in the Women's Open -- and my pleasure at listening to the TV commentary by Judy Rankin, who used to be a pupil of mine.

A man's voice on the television told us they were leaving the Women's Open because their time was up. The network switched to some kind of track meet in Russia.

"Do you think they would do that if this was the Men's Open?" Sandra said. "What if some prominent man player was losing a big lead, and some other prominent men players were making a charge? Would the network switch away to a track meet that was taped earlier in another country? Would they dare do that to men?"

"I don't think so," I said.

"You know darn well they wouldn't," Sandra said. She headed toward the door.

"I'm going back to the practice tee," she said. "They won't let me watch the Women's Open, but they can't stop me from practicing."

So I read my mail and answered letters. It was too hot for anything else. But I felt better now than when I came home earlier in the day.

Remembering Susan Baker's cry of pleasure when she saw that ball fly out there 170 yards, I kept smiling. Moments like that make my life fulfilled.

And if enough Susan Bakers find joy and satisfaction in the great game of golf, maybe someday that network will treat the world's finest women players with the same respect it reserves for men.

Copyright © 1995 by Harvey Penick, Bud Shrake and Helen Penick

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

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Sort by: Showing all of 3 Customer Reviews
  • Posted March 11, 2012

    A Wonderful book for women golfers AND the men who want them to play!

    Having grown up as the only daughter in a family of men who play golf, I had put off learning the game until my own children were grown. I also told the men in my life that I was taking lessons from a stranger - NOT any of them! Little did I know that the best lessons and motivation would come from a tiny little book. I started reading Harvey's Little Red Book as soon as I started my lessons and they complimented each other nicely. Still, something was missing. I stumbled upon this book and found that something! It explains the game in a different light! There are so many ways that women learn things/see things differently from men and this book brings those differences out and explains how to deal with them. My husband was surprised by many of the changes in technique for women vs men. He actually stopped trying to make my technique mirror his. It also motivates with wonderful stories from many women who have been in our shoes. Harvey's absolute love of the game can't help but rub off on the reader. The book is structured into very small "topics" instead of actual chapters, which makes it very easy to read (and re-read) in small bits. This is not a book to read once and put on a shelf. It is a book that you will want to refer to again and again. I have it in both paper and electronic versions.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 14, 2001

    It's a mental game

    While there are tons of great, specific advice in this book, Mr. Penick seems to focus on something here that women will respond to -- the way the game makes you feel. All of us who golf know that, unfortunately, you don't always feel GOOD about your game, but there's advice for how to change that feeling around through expert advice and information. If you don't feel good about playing, it's really easy to quit. Sometimes you have to get beyond all the lessons and specifics that make too many 'serious' golfers scoff at those of us who may never break 90, but enjoy the heck out of playing. I bought this book for my daughter who is attending college on a golf scholarship. She has no trouble breaking 72!, but the love of the game does sometimes leave her. I know she will enjoy the calming influence that this book will have on her which she has not gotten with all the other 'dynamic' golf how-to books out there.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 11, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

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