The Guinea Pig: the bionic glove

Last updated: 12th May 2009

Matt Cooper, golfer: a hacker playing off 15. Gentleman, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world's first bionic golfer. Matt Cooper will be that golfer. Better than he was before. Longer, straighter, holing more putts.

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Some of the younger readers of the Guinea Pig may not be too familiar with the words that open it every week (above in bold type).

They are a bastardised version of the words used to open 1970s hit TV show called the Six Million Dollar Man which told the story of an astronaut called Steve Austin who, when his aircraft crashed, was saved by extensive bionic surgery that left him with the ability to run at 60 miles an hour, the power to lift abnormal weights and an eye with telescopic vision.

I suppose the true golfing equivalent of this would be the driving power of Alvaro Quiros, the short game of Severiano Ballesteros and the iron nerve and willpower of Tiger Woods.

But if technology and tuition can make me "longer, straighter, holing more putts" we'll settle for that.

What I never expected when I set out on this project was to be offered the chance to test golfing equipment whose qualities actually claimed to be bionic - and yet that is exactly what has happened.

And what's more that bionic technology has been designed in conjunction with a leading orthopaedic hand surgeon so I can - during those quiet times when I start daydreaming - really convince myself I am living the bionic dream.

Dr Jim Kleinert is a fellow of the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons who has performed over 10,000 operations on the human hand and his expertise, used to observe the specific demands of a golf grip, led to the creation of the Bionic Glove.

Richie Maure of 0800Sports.co.uk alerted me to the existence of the glove. "We're told to grip the club with a light touch," he said. "As if we were holding a bird - but it's not that easy."

The problem is that the hand struggles to remain relaxed because the fingers feel compelled to tighten - otherwise the grip feels weak, as if we would let go of the club in the act of swinging it.

This dilemma is solved by the Bionic Glove because anatomical relief pads are built in to the leather, eliminating the peaks and troughs of the hand.

Consequently the hand feels it has a safe control of the club when holding with a lighter grip - something that not only improves the grip itself but leaves the muscles of the arms and shoulders more relaxed.

That's the theory, what about the practice? Well my first session was in the garden, flipping a few chips around.

Under normal circumstances I don't wear a glove close to the green, taking the widely held view that "I want more feel".

But I can't deny that the glove does leave the fingers, hands and arms more relaxed. I was hitting flop shots and little flips with an ease and consistency that left me a little bit astonished.

At which point I decided it was too absurdly easy and I needed to get out on the course.

Apart from anything else, it was high time I bit the bullet and talked you through 18 holes of my golf, introducing you to what I can do, and more importantly, what I can't do on the golf course.

I headed out in windy conditions with two aims - to trial the Bionic Glove and to further test my new mind-coaching techniques ...

The front nine:

An inglorious start but one that is all too horribly familiar - I arrived at the course in a rush, spent far too much time gossiping with the professional, left him with my head full of non-essential gibberish and found the first tee busy so rushed to the 10th.

Aware that there was an elderly four-ball playing their (short) approaches to the ninth green, I had no warm-ups, forgot all about my mind-coaching techniques, didn't even attempt a full practice swing and only just remembered to pull on my bionic glove.

It was about as abject and brainless a beginning as it is possible to make. No surprises, therefore, that I hooked my tee-shot into trees, hacked out to the fairway and hit the approach into a bunker.

Admittedly I followed that with a neat shot to six feet but I then decided to put the cherry on top of the first-hole cake: as I stood over the bogey putt I looked behind me to see if the four-ball were closing in (they were nowhere to be seen) before sighing with relief and ... no, I didn't stand up and prepare myself properly, I took the putt anyway and poked it wide.

I would love to relate that the second hole was an improvement but if anything it was worse - this time, after dragging my second shot into a bush, I missed a five-foot putt for bogey.

Two holes played, four over par and my game in a mess. Bionic? Byronic, more like.

So I gave myself a talking-to on the third tee. What had happened to the mind-coaching for goodness sake? I hadn't even attempted a pre-shot routine. It was embarrassing.

Turning my game around wasn't proving easy as my long game was erratic, but my short game was maintaining the brilliant form of the back garden.

It felt odd to play little shots with my glove but the results were consistently good: in the seven holes to the turn I found myself just off the green on five occasions and every time I knocked it stiff.

I reached the turn in +8 which I was just about content with having tossed away four early shots.

The back nine:

A regulation par on the 10th followed by three more successful up and downs (all for par) suggested I was pulling things around.

Cue two double bogies and the round disintegrating as I lost patience with a four-ball in front who, despite me repeatedly finishing my hole and reaching the next tee before three of them had teed off, refused to say "Hello" never mind allow me to play through them.

I know single players have no rights on the course, but, on an otherwise empty course, most people do the decent thing. This lot must have been MPs or something.

End of the round:

I finally chalked up an 86 for 15 over par which could have been worse given the appalling start and could have been better if I had not "coped" with the dawdling four-ball in much the same way that Basil Fawlty "coped" with his car not starting.

The good news - I'm scrambling like Seve. The bad news - my long game needs some attention and I need to review my mind-coaching because I'm ashamed at how quickly I forgot the basics.

As I walked up the 18th fairway I had visions of Dr Karl Morris stood beneath a tree, gently shaking his head - all that hard work and I'm still repeating the same basic mistakes.

Next week: I report on a few sessions down at the range, putting in some hard work on my long game and testing a new performance aid.