String theory: Golf lessons in unwinding a tangled mess

By Rahul Banerji

It is only a piece of string. A very long one, admittedly, but in essence, that’s all it really is. Clearly part of a finicky kite-flyer’s ensemble, the string is almost unbreakable, try as you may, and it’s finally given me something to do.

The dog and self take walks twice daily around a vacant plot adjoining where we live on the eastern bank of the Yamuna River in Delhi. It’s time away from the suffocating Covid 19 lockdown that never seems to end and bookends the day, dawn and dusk.

On one such outing, we came across the string. It stretched for a couple of hundred feet at least. The kite it once anchored was long gone, as was the flyer. But there it lay – covering the field almost from end to end.

The first thought was to get rid of it. The fore-mentioned field attracts birds in plenty, eagles and crows nest on high trees alongside, while doves, common mynahs, parrots and peacocks visit in large numbers.

Fatal trap

Sitting there, the string was a potentially fatal trap for birds. Once snared around their claws, it would never let go. We’ve seen more than a few eagles hanging lifeless, caught unawares similarly and it had to go.

So I started to gather up the string, this fine, quality piece of woven thread that had once been the pride and joy of a discerning kite-person’s arsenal. It came reluctantly, snagging in roots, brambles and stray branches, seemingly seeking to delay the inevitable.

By then Neo (my canine master) had had enough of sniffing around and cocking his leg, and suggested it was time for his milk and biscuits. Hurriedly chucking the tangled mass into a bush so it was well out of the way, we left.

Things stayed that way for a couple of days.

Two days ago, I decided to remove it once and for all. Pulling the ends together into an even more confusing mess, the string was brought home.

So what does this extended preamble have to do with golf?

Nothing, and everything. The nothing is obvious. The everything less so.

Now, time is a nasty opponent. The more there is of it, the more you are pushed into dealing with it, mostly badly. You need things to do in long lockdown hours, and the less there is to occupy the mind, the more time looms over you.

You can see how this is going, can’t you?

Jumbled mass

I had time, and a jumbled mass of string sitting on the table. The temptation to bring some order, to find both ends, was irresistible.

And as the hands, eye and mind got busy, every hurdle became a parallel to my shaky golf.

Each knot was an opportunity to reflect – take a moment to align correctly. Every twist in the thread was a chance to plan – find the right shot. Each complex loop was an invitation to ponder the next step – visualise. Every snarl sought a steady hand – a consistent swing.

Unravelling a tangled skein is like trying to take out the kinks in an inept – if enthusiastic – golfer’s game. It teaches you patience. It shows you the need to look ahead. And it shows you no situation is such that it cannot be solved.

And so it has gone, inch after inch, foot after foot. Break the task down into its individual components. Take a step back, when there is no obvious next move. Just try to stay in the moment.

Ben Hogan once said, “You have to give careful thought to every shot. Every shot sets up what you are going to do next. Every shot has to be placed correctly. Don’t ever just hit a shot without thinking it through.”

He could have been talking about my struggles with the string.

Also read: A locked-in sufferer remembers to be grateful for his golf