So yesterday I’m scrolling through golf videos, right? Totally stumbled on this old clip of Jack Nicklaus draining that insane 100-footer at the ’86 Masters. Got me thinking… how the hell do you even do that? Decided right then to try it myself at the local practice green. Spoiler: it was messy.
The First Disaster Round
Grabbed three balls and walked way back to roughly 100 feet. First problem? The green looked like a damn mountain range. Had zero clue where to aim. Just whacked the first ball way too hard – sailed past the hole like 15 feet. Wayyyy too much.
Second try? Total joke. Stopped like five feet short. Pathetic. Third ball? Pulled it sideways almost onto the fringe. Felt like a clown standing there. Needed Jack’s secret sauce.
What Actually Worked (Kinda)
Went home and dug into how Nicklaus pulled it off. Found five common tips people say he used. Next day, hauled my putter back to torture myself again.
- Tip 1: Walk the damn line. Actually did it this time. Walked slow from ball to hole, stomping my feet like a moron trying to feel the slope under my trainers. Felt… something. A subtle left-to-right tilt about halfway? Made a mental note. Better than eyeballing it blindly.
- Tip 2: Aim for a bigger target. Jack apparently picked a spot a foot or so short. Chose a darker patch of grass maybe eight feet in front of the cup. Focused on THAT, not the tiny hole. Suddenly the putt felt less impossible. Just get it close-ish, right?
- Tip 3: Longer stroke, smoother tempo. Stopped choking the putter like it owes me money. Took a wider, slower backswing. Picture sweeping it. Swung through easy, trying to let momentum do the work. Felt awkward, like slow motion golf.
- Tip 4: Don’t lift your head early. Man, this is HARD. Instinct screams to look up. Actually covered the ball with my lead hand after hitting, forcing myself to watch the spot where the ball was. Weird trick, but stopped me peeking.
- Tip 5: Believe you can make it (lol). Okay, “visualization.” Stood over the ball, pretended I was Jack for a second. Not sure I believed it, but… didn’t hurt.
The Moment It (Almost) Happened
Took about twenty ugly chunks of turf and misreads. Then… it clicked. Used my walk-the-line feel. Picked a fat spot halfway. Took that smooth, longer stroke. Kept my dang head down. Ball rolled… and rolled… curved right like I felt it might… slowed down near the hole… clunked the goddamn flagstick! Didn’t drop, but nestled maybe six inches away. Almost screamed.
Took another five tries after that. Finally, one got real lucky – caught the lip and dropped. Pure dumb luck? Probably. But felt amazing after three buckets of frustration.
Massive takeaway? Getting that far ain’t just power. Reading the green like you’re blindfolded feeling your way home matters more. And slowing everything down? Huge. Didn’t become Jack overnight, but hitting a decent long putt after feeling utterly lost? Yeah, that felt good. Real good.