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It’s casual conversation now, no different than asking what ball you’re playing or what drink you’d like from the beverage cart.
“What are your numbers?”
The person doing the asking is almost always likely to have blown out fewer than 45 birthday candles, and the numbers aren’t related to blood pressure or cholesterol. They’re launch-monitor data, the new-age numerology of the game. In a recent outing with a couple of good players, one asked another, “What are your driver numbers now?” The person being asked was a former teammate of PGA Tour player Brandt Snedeker at Vanderbilt University, which puts him close to 40. He didn’t miss a beat. “I’m at 118,” he said. “But that’s down from a 124 when I was in college.”
My friend is exceptionally sharp but I knew he wasn’t talking about IQ. I could only assume this was clubhead speed, but that’s only because I watch things like the World Long Drive Championship. But this sort of lexicon is standard at the game’s upper levels. Walk down any tour range and almost every player has a TrackMan or FlightScope. They’ve become as ubiquitous as smartphones. And the players stare at them just as much.
During a summer LPGA event, I offhandedly mentioned to Australian player Katherine Kirk that I didn’t understand the value of a numerical reading for angle of attack. Kirk, showing the patience of a saint, tried to educate me on trajectory and distance control. “Doesn’t the flight of the golf ball tell you that?” I asked. She smiled and probably would have patted me on the head like a puppy if there hadn’t been others around. “Numbers are better,” she said.
That didn’t used to be the case. There was a time, not too long ago in the grand scheme of things, when the only numbers that mattered were on a scorecard – little ones that fit in boxes. Holes weren’t even numbered. They had names like “Road” and “Azalea.” Clubs weren’t numbered either. Go to YouTube and watch Bobby Jones explain the intricacies of hitting a 240-yard spoon or how to chip with a mashie-niblick.
Can you imagine asking Ben Hogan about his launch-angle numbers after a tee shot? The reply likely would have been “one,” which is where Mr. Hogan always expected to finish.
Steve Eubanks