When beginning the backswing, should we lead with the shoulders, the hands, the left arm, the right arm, or some other way? And should the downswing be started by shifting the hips sideways, by rotating them, by rotating the torso, with the hands, by pulling with the left arm, by bringing the right elbow close to the body, by pushing with the right foot, by moving the left knee towards the target, or by putting the left heel back on the ground…when very possibly it shouldn't have been raised at all during the backswing?

The list could go on for several pages.

It has to be said that where golf technique is concerned we are faced with an unusual amount of confusion. In the majority of sporting disciplines there seems to be some kind of consensus among experts about which techniques are actually the most effective. Regarding the golf swing, however, not only do the experts not agree on the choice of a single technical model, they also hold different opinions about the very desirability of using such a model! Some think it's desirable, and to date several theories have been put forward. Others argue instead that since each individual is different what works for some will not necessarily work for all. If they're right about this, then technique should differ from one golfer to the next, so that somehow or other each individual has to discover the swing that works best for him or her.

As for the perfect swing, it should represent the ultimate where technique is concerned. Not only would it be considered the most effective technical model in existence, it would also be at the cutting edge in its efficiency and therefore not lend itself to any further improvement. It would be perfect, after all!

Many people consider the perfect swing to be no more than the figment of a rather over-fertile imagination and maintain that there is simply no such thing. On the other hand, some specialists are convinced that it is hidden away somewhere, like buried treasure, and have set out to find it. The most spectacular attempts in this direction are undoubtedly those made in the 1960s. This was when a rich golfing aficionado, Sir Aynsley Bridgland, assembled an impressive team of ten highly qualified scientists with the declared objective of no less than discovering this controversial perfect swing. Yet we learn from the book Search for the Perfect Swing that after six years of hard work their research failed to fully achieve this objective. (It is fair to note however that basing themselves on the laws of pure science they did construct a theoretical model of the perfect swing.)

It seems, then, that the ideal golfing technique is wrapped in a certain mystery. Golfers seem to be endlessly seeking for advice, hoping the truth will at last be revealed to them like a well-guarded secret. There can be little doubt, it seems to me, that the widespread confusion about golf technique is one of the principal reasons why many players find it so difficult to approach their full potential.

I began teaching golf in 1985, but it was only in 1987 that it occurred to me to become a golf professional. Actually, since I was teaching in Europe at the time, my dream was to join the PGA European Tour. In 1988 I officially turned professional, and the following year, with my best friend as my caddy, I failed by a single stroke to qualify for the Belgian Open (which is part of the European circuit). If I'd saved just a single stroke, I'd have found myself playing against golfers like Langer, Woosnam, Olazabal, Singh, Montgomerie and company!

On the other hand I knew I was still far from my objective, and that my out-of-bounds drive and triple bogey on the 16th hole weren't the result of bad luck, even if my ball had landed on the fairway before veering off to the right. It was quite obvious to me that this outcome was due to my defective technique and to my usual left to right ball flight, a trajectory that had been with me ever since my first day as a golfer. But now I'd had enough. If I was to have any hope of becoming competitive on a circuit like that it was imperative to improve the mechanics of my swing.

After a discussion with my boss at the time, and by mutual agreement, I laid out a plan of action. In the first phase I'd devote all my energies to helping this new club build up its membership. Then, once the club had enough members, I'd be paid a base salary.

I thought this a reasonable compromise, even if it meant putting my dreams as a player on hold for a few years. I felt sure that before very long I'd be able to take advantage of my greatly improved financial situation to train the way I needed to and take part in several competitions. In the meantime I could always use my free time to get started on what was my major task: reconstructing my swing.

It was a splendid plan, but it didn't quite work out the way I'd hoped. A few years later, even though the club's membership list was full, they didn't want to grant me what I'd been promised. Naturally, I found this unacceptable, and when my discontent began to show, I was fired.

My 100% natural (but technically weak) swing of the past was now beginning to look like a laboratory that had been laid waste by failed experiments! At the time I couldn't imagine myself earning a living by playing competitive golf, so from that point on I concentrated exclusively on my career as a golf instructor.

I never felt myself so far from any professional circuit than one day in the summer of 1997, when I was just finishing off another very busy week's work. Earlier that day I confided to my fellow professional that I believed I had witnessed a new record being set for the first 9 holes of our course. When he inquired who had gone round under par I clarified the fact that the record I was referring to was actually at the other end of the scale: 157 strokes, of which 23 were air shots that failed to make any contact with the ball (I used to count everything)!

In Europe novice golfers usually had to pass a practical exam before being allowed to play on the course itself. In our club members had to play 9 holes in 72 strokes or less to pass this test. This meant that my job was to help this individual to reduce his score by no less than 85 strokes over the 9 holes, in other words almost 10 strokes per hole! Of course, the level of my new students' game was not always that poor. Even so, since I'd worked mainly in recently created golf clubs that kind of situation wasn't all that unusual. (In this particular case the pupil took almost an entire year to pass the test.)

The major problem I confronted early in my career as a teaching professional was that the bits and pieces of technical information I'd absorbed previously, even if they all originated with respected figures in the field of golf, were not always compatible with one another. This made me recognize that I'd have to use my own experience as an instructor to help me decide which to keep and which to discard.

Initially I thought that the most naturally gifted pupils would be the ones most likely to point me to what worked best as far as technique was concerned. Indeed, they were able to reproduce whatever I asked them to do with more precision than the others, and this made it possible for me to evaluate the efficacy of the mechanics in question more accurately.

On the other hand I gradually came to realize that maybe my less gifted students would provide me with the most information about the effectiveness of a particular technique. Indeed, a golfer with a lot of natural talent would often be able to strike the ball well in spite of his poor technique, but the less adept ones needed all the technical assistance they could get if they were to have any hope of achieving similar results.

Ultimately, all my pupils could teach me something. Of course the golfer's level didn't really matter that much, for anyone would be able to strike the ball better if they learned a more effective technique. My objective therefore remained to discover the best possible technique—one that would benefit all.

About ten years later, after analyzing more than a million golf swings, I was at last able to put in place the final pieces in the jig-saw of a technique that I knew to be highly effective. As time went by, and as I continued my research in the literature, I realized that the model I'd arrived at was none other than the mythical perfect swing. Just as certain specialists suspected, the perfect swing was indeed hidden away somewhere, and this somewhere was a secret valley a the access to which was very well protected by what is, to say the least, an astonishing key. This master key, which involved the right arm, had certainly foiled many an earlier attempt. It was the final piece of the puzzle.

Since the very earliest days of the game people have probably set out to find the ideal way to play golf. It's therefore no mean claim to suggest that the secret of the perfect swing has been discovered at last! Yet in the pages that follow not only will I reveal this secret, I will also explain why this model appears to have reached a limit beyond which any further advance is impossible.

Most books on golf technique tell the learner what to do without elaborating on the factors that may have influenced the author's theories. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, for the specialist is after all better equipped than the amateur to follow a discussion of that kind. On the other hand, once the amateur has consulted several books on the subject and discovered that each time he is told to do something different, it is hard for him to understand, or to arrive at any evaluation whatsoever—hence his confusion. In this respect my book takes a rather unusual approach. Of course it advises the reader what to do, but it also allows him to follow each step of the process that led me to my conclusions. I hope that in this way specialists and even amateurs will be able to see for themselves on what a solid foundation this model technique is based.

I am absolutely convinced that the various deductions that allowed me to advance in my quest have always been soundly based, whether they were the result of theoretical reflection or of practical observation. It may be, however, that some readers—novice golfers in particular—will find it difficult to grasp all the finer points of the information provided here. All the same, I hope that along the way they'll learn more about golf technique than if this book merely told them what to do.

But before we set out on our quest for the perfect swing I must tell the reader that a major surprise awaits him. It consists in the fact that the treasure buried in the secret valley is actually a much more valuable one than anyone could have suspected, for the model technique for the perfect swing provides the ideal way not just to drive the ball but also to putt, chip, pitch, and make almost any kind of golf stroke. Fascinating!

To all golfers I express my hope that you will be able to use this book as a guide. I encourage you to set out on the path that will take you to the secret valley, for it is really worth the trouble. After all, what could be more legitimate and enthralling for a golfer than trying to bring off a perfect swing?

Now it only remains for me to wish you pleasant reading—and a pleasant trip to the secret valley!

Maurice Duhamel


‌ Home - Biography ‌  Performance Factors  - Mental Aspect  -  Physical Aspect  - Technical Aspect  ‌ 
‌  The Book  ‌  Golf School  ‌  Testimonials  ‌  Contact Information ‌  Email  ‌

2011 Copyright Maurice Duhamel  ‌   Web Design Michel Morin