Fingers crossed, the pencil grip really is the secret of putting

Whisper it, but the fascinating story behind this quirky grip means it might actually be the real deal

This month’s column is dedicated to the poor putters of the world. The shovers and pullers. The jabbers and stabbers. The muscle-twitchers and putter-switchers. The look-uppers; the never-uppers; the give-uppers. Putting is a cruel mistress, but today I bring a message of hope to all who have suffered at her wristy, overactive hands.

It is baffling and infuriating that such a seemingly simple task is so hard to do properly. But, take heart, it’s not just us. Only 48 per cent of ten-foot putts are holed on the PGA Tour.

I feel better already.

The fact is, we already know how we are supposed to execute an effective putting stroke. A simple rocking of the shoulders; no wrist movement; no looking up as we hit the ball; as few things moving as possible. But we can’t do it, for Faxon’s sake! It doesn’t work. We’re only human and we get nervous and our hands betray us – along with our misbehaving wrists, arms, eyes and head.

What we need is control. Effortless, automatic control over our bad, bad hands. To put it bluntly, we need a cheat – something that can magically make all the correct things happen and allow even the worst putter to give the ball a decent roll at the hole. Well, brace yourself, but this cheat might actually exist. Fifty years ago, a world-famous artist/illustrator called Paul Trevillion published a book called The Perfect Putting Method. Mr Trevillion had a theory, and it was a good one.

Hoorah!

Firstly, he realised it was the small muscles in the wrists and hands that react most badly to pressure. So, in order to putt well, we have to somehow take the small muscles out of play. In turn, he felt strongly that the right hand (and right shoulder) should be in charge of the putt and that the left hand was only there to be a hinge and look pretty.

His reasoning was logical and persuasive: if you are right-handed, then you are already using that one hand, all by itself, to effortlessly do all kinds of tricky tasks in life. The left hand just steadies, while the right hand does all the work. He himself was a pencil-drawing artist of incredible skill and he noted how he could draw a perfect straight line every time with his right hand. So, why couldn’t this apply to putting?

He also realised that the split-hand method is exactly how snooker is played; the left hand is a steadying anchor and the right hand pushes powerfully through. His unarguable conclusion was that we needed a putting grip that separated the hands and allowed the right hand to be the ‘pusher’. So, he developed the pencil grip – which does exactly what it says on the tin.

Now, in the beginning, his grip was not for the faint-hearted. You had to bend right over and run your entire right arm straight down the length of the shaft. Your right hand gripped the putter only 12 inches from the putter head and your left just held on at the top like normal. You then moved the club back using your right shoulder and gave the ball a solid hit with your right hand, pushing it straight through to the hole.

To be honest, it made him look a bit stupid, but boy did it work. After a bit of practice, Trevillion could hole a thousand four-footers in a row, at which point he simply stopped missing short putts completely. He challenged anyone to beat him over four feet and put up £1,000 of his own money. No-one could. He travelled the world, appearing on TV and in exhibitions, showing how it was simply not possible for him to miss a four-foot putt.

Which brings us to today and the pencil grip as we know it. The same grip adopted (and still used) by Garcia, Rose and Fleetwood. These days, you still split your hands, but now you put the right one much higher up the grip, just below your left (which allows the grip to work on longer putts too).

So, why aren’t I using it? Why aren’t you? What’s going on? I can only conclude that we are not prepared to use this proven, revolutionary grip because we think it will make us look a bit strange… but we are perfectly prepared to look really, really stupid when missing tiny putts with a horrible, ugly, jerky, twisty lunge. We are, quite clearly, insane. Enough is enough. It’s time to employ the pencil grip. Who’s with me?

“He travelled the world showing how it was simply not possible for him to miss a four-foot putt”