An Interview With Author Dennis Vannatta
About His Latest Book:

The Care and Feeding of the True Duffer
A Guide to Golf in the Real World

Q. Why did you write this book?

I was watching the Masters on television—gorgeous course, lilting music in the background, commentators' voices reverentially lowered, spotters lining the fairways to find errant shots, golfers in $100 shirts using $1,000 clubs with swings honed by a zillion hours of practice under the tutelage of world-famous golf instructors who make more than college presidents. "Hell," I said, "That ain't golf."

At least it wasn't golf the way millions of Americans, including me, play it on hardscrabble munis wearing blue jeans and sneakers and swinging clubs bought at garage sales. My golfers—the "true duffers," as I call them—deserve to have someone write a golf book for them and about them.

I frankly don't buy that "golf in a golden glow" crap you get from the Masters. Golf is a lot less sacred, a lot more fun, than that. It's a lot funnier than that. I decided to write a fun, funny book about "true duffer" golf in the "real world." And there actually might be something a golfer can learn from it.

Q. How is this book different from already existing golf guides?

There are dozens of good golf guides out there, many of them aimed at the beginning golfer or duffer (not the same thing by my definition). And every one of these books, I'll freely admit, is written by someone who knows more about the correct way to swing a club than I do. But I think that's a problem. These guys are pros, either professional tournament golfers, instructors or both. They work toward the ideal swing themselves—and occasionally at least achieve it—and that's what they want us duffers to achieve by following to the letter what they recommend and practicing until that ideal swing is achieved, or at least approximated. But the true duffer—and I spend a lot of time in the book identifying this species—either cannot or will not make the effort toward obtaining the ideal swing. He won't play on those Masters-like courses. He won't buy the best clubs. He won't practice. He probably cannot physically hit the ball correctly. He has no natural talent. But he still loves the game, and I think there's a place in the golf world for a book that addresses, embraces and encourages those golfers to whom the pro would throw up his hands in disgust

Q. Will the book help the average duffer?

Maybe. I know you'd prefer a less equivocal answer, but the one thing I promise is that I'm always honest in my book—except when I'm lying. Golfers are surpassed only by fishermen in the lying game.

If by "help," though, you mean take a couple of strokes off your score, I think that's possible. Many duffers simply do not know what a good swing entails. Giving them some insight into that (too much info does more harm than good) should help a little. In addition to the swing, I give what, in all lack of modesty, I consider extremely good and useful advice on clubs, shoes, balls, etc. I absolutely guarantee that if you follow my advice you'll save money.

Q. How did you get interested in golf?

By playing it with my father when I was a teenager. I think I was about 13 when I started. Father-son bonding is a cliche, I suppose, but few things run deeper than that. Those days spent playing golf with my father were golden moments. Who cares what my score was?

Q. What impact do you hope your book will have on the sport?

Very modest, I suppose—or perhaps not so modest. I hope those golfers who read the book, first of all, will have fun with it. If the reader has half as much fun reading it as I did writing it, I'll be happy. Who knows? Maybe they'll learn something that will save them a few strokes along the way. I know if they take my advice they'll save money. Most importantly, I believe that if my book is taken in the proper spirit, the duffer will feel better about himself and his game even if he's utterly inept, that he'll remember that the purpose of the game is enjoyment, not score, and remember that golf isn't a good walk spoiled, as Mark Twain said, but a good walk enhanced by a great game.