Golf has been in our family for generations. My grandfather gave me my first club when I was four, Dad used to play off 12 in his day, and Mam has recently picked up the clubs and doesn’t know how to put them down.
Golf has been in our family for generations. My grandfather gave me my first club when I was four, Dad used to play off 12 in his day, and Mam has recently picked up the clubs and doesn’t know how to put them down.
And yet that doesn’t quite explain how we got here, three golf-mad amateurs all with handicaps in our 20s looking to take on one of the finest golfers Britain has ever produced at his own game.
So welcome to Team Davies vs Sir Nick Faldo – a putting showdown for the ages.
Ahead of our challenge, we watched on as the three-time Masters and three-time Open champion delivered a golfing masterclass at the Husqvarna Invitational pro-am at The Berkshire. And he was a joke.
Big enough to play back-row for the Lions, ball on a string, and hitting the thing absolute miles. Former footballers including Wayne Bridge and Jermaine Jenas winced at the sound of the driver sending the ball 300 yards, and David Seaman leaned in to say, “Corr, look at that!”
We had our work cut out, Faldo’s still got it. But it was time for the challenge.
Dad was oddly confident. “We’ll d--- him,” he repeated, relentlessly, all day, in his Swansea Valley lilt. Mam and I weren’t so sure, but there was only one way to find out.
Three putts: from six feet, 12 feet and 30 feet. Three chances for Team Davies to beat the legend.
The six-foot putt
Faldo steps up from six feet. It is a putt he should be making 10 times out of 10.
There’s a little bit of right-to-left on the green and he starts it too straight, with the ball fading agonisingly to the left of the lip.
“Oh, that’s a good start,” he quips, sarcastically. A bad miss by the big man, and in reality it wasn’t even close.
With such a huge opportunity for team Davies, I send Mam up.
Iola Davies lines it up, going into her familiar, shuffling routine and drives the ball straight to the heart of the hole. She never looked like missing and throws a Tiger Woods-esque fist pump right in the face of her opponent.
The mind games have started, and Faldo is under real pressure, 1-0 down after one hole.
The 12-foot putt
He’s feeling the heat, is Faldo, and gives Team Davies the honour, insisting that we go first so he can have a chance to watch. I remind him we have three shots at this hole and Faldo, the old pro, hits back with his own bit of sport psychology.
“That’s not fair. Three-to-one? I like your odds, geez,” he aims at Dad.
But the old bear has been around the block plenty of times, and is no shrinking violet. Phil Davies responds: “Well you’ve got three Green Jackets, we’ve got none. So it is fair enough.”
The Welshman gets back to his practice swing, as Faldo fires back in a passable Welsh accent: “They’ve got red jackets in Wales.”
Davies Snr is still unruffled, so Faldo moves onto Dad’s ancient putter. I’m 37, and it’s older than me. It’s barely got a grip on it either. It is a total shambles of a club, but is practically Dad’s third child.
“Right, I want to see the putter work,” says Faldo. “My goodness, talk about making the game difficult. Well, if this goes in, I’m giving up.”
Davies Snr brushes the barb off, settles himself and drains the 12-footer. Maybe his confidence was justified.
“Oh, I don’t believe this,” an exacerbated Faldo barks. “You’re professional hustlers, you lot. I’m doing too much talking and not enough hitting.”
Well he’s now got a tricky 12-footer with a bit of right-to-left to stay in the contest against three rank amateurs. Class shines through and the ball dribbles into the cup via the right-hand lip.
It is not convincing by any means, but it’s enough to halve the hole and the golfing great has a chance to tie up the match.
The 30-foot putt
After watching both parents drain their putts, I’m desperate to follow suit.
I don’t have a strong part of my game, but putting is right down towards the bottom of the list.
Rigid, uncomfortable and sweating, I take my putter back and jerk it forward like I’m throwing a breeze block into a skip. It’s not pretty, but as I bring my head up, it looks like it’s rolling on target…
All I need is for the ball to drift left as it has done all afternoon and find the cup, but it stays out wide to the right and slides by, leaving me three foot to finish off. It’s the first time Team Davies has to bring a second player out, so Dad steps up first only to send it blazing the other side of the hole.
Mam attempts from long range, and her competitive rage erupts.
“Shocking, that’s the worst all day,” she grumbles.
Frankly, they’ve embarrassed themselves and any hope of victory in this fight now lies with their son. Faldo has to produce something special to even tie the game and, lining up the monster putt, he knows it.
“Right. Gee whizz,” he exhales. The plonk off the putter is as clean as we’ve heard, and the ball is hurtling perfectly towards the centre of the cup.
It’s all over, I think.
But the pace slows down and by the barest of margins, the grass grips the ball and stops it from dropping in. A gust of wind would blow it in, but Faldo has missed by mere millimetres.
He’s down in two, and then the mind games return. As I point out, someone’s still got to drop their ball to halve the hole and walk away with the win.
Faldo’s already one step ahead.
As I line up, he stops me: “If you miss that... Hang on, before you hit it. If you miss that, you do realise those two are definitely going to miss. So that means it’s all on you, my son.”
He’s right, too. Mam and Dad’s putts have left them with loads to do. It really is all on me. And Faldo senses my nerves.
Not wanting to lose to this mob, he takes one last stab at me, making noises in my backstroke. It’s by no means convincing, but it is barely enough and sneaks in on the left side. “Thank God the hole is round,” Faldo laughs.
Team Davies grabs the win and every team member has played their part.
Faldo’s finest Ryder Cup putt
At the 1995 Ryder Cup, Faldo had all the pressure on him. On the 18th, against Curtis Strange, he faced what he called a “true four-footer” to put Europe within a point of victory at Oak Hill, New York.
It was already dramatic up to that moment. Faldo had come from one behind on the 17th to level up, and after hitting his second to within 93 yards of the pin, he then chipped it to under five feet.
Despite feeling the pressure and no small amount of fatigue, Faldo then holed out to take the point. There was no masking the emotion for him or Seve Ballesteros, who hugged the Englishman, in tears. It was left up to Philip Walton to take the final point, and Europe celebrated an incredible victory on US soil.
Faldo’s putting tips
Want to putt like Faldo did on that fateful day? These are his top tips on the green.
Tip one – Go quiet
Firstly, shut out the noise. “You’re not a jellyfish,” Faldo advises. “But you’re just there: lovely and quiet.” He used to take himself away to the corner of a green to calm down.
Tip two – Intention
Faldo will always focus on the positive outcome – the intention – rather than what he doesn’t want to do with a putt. He also used to occasionally picture a trough leading from the ball to the hole, and then attempt to knock it in along that.
Tip three – Shoulder alignment
Faldo also believes that aligning the shoulder in the right way, time after time is crucially important. Because you can line the putter up perfectly, but if you move your shoulders to hit it and they are not aligned properly you will go astray.
Category: General Sports
