JULY 23 — I’ve always had a bit of soft spot for Phil Mickelson so, although I would have preferred cheery old Lee Westwood to have hung on for victory, I was quite pleased to see Big Phil claim the British Open with a brilliant final round at Muirfield on Sunday.
My affection for Mickelson has nothing to do with his personality, which seems a little too self-satisfied for comfort. Or with his nationality... ditto. Nor do I have any particularly strong feelings about the way he plays golf.
Instead, I like him for one reason and one reason alone: like me, he is left-handed.
Lefties are notably rare in golf. Aside from Mickelson, there’s the Canadian Mike Weir and the American Bubba Watson but that’s about it. And it’s the same story over the sport’s long history, with very few left-handed players ever enjoying notable careers.
I like to think that’s because golf is intrinsically biased against left-handed players. The position of the tees, the shape of the fairways and dog-legs to the greens, the positioning of bunkers, water hazards and the pin — they are all generally designed to gently accommodate the natural fade that most right-handers impart upon the ball... whilst simultaneously penalising the few left-handers who might also be playing.
That, at least, is what I frequently tell myself and my sniggering playing companions as I lose yet another ball by slicing it horribly into the trees. Golf is not, it’s fair to say, my sporting forte (but at least I’ve got the excuse of being left-handed).
In most other sports, being left-handed isn’t such a handicap (except field hockey, which discriminates against lefties to the extent that only right-handed sticks are allowed).
The greatest footballer on the planet, indeed, is the left-footed Lionel Messi, as was his compatriot and fellow all-time great Diego Maradona. And over the years, there has always been a plethora of wonderful left-footed players in both defensive and attacking positions, including Alfredo Di Stefano, Ferenc Puskas, Gheorghe Hagi, Roberto Carlos and Paolo Maldini. An all-time left-footed World XI would certainly give their right-footed counterparts a very good game.
Although I’m obviously no Messi or Maradona, I found growing up as a left-footed player a benefit rather than a hindrance — if for no other reason that the necessity of filling two left-sided positions (full back and winger) made it easier for me to get a place in the team.
I probably also benefited from the perception encouraged by the old commentators’ cliché about lefty footballers being “cultured”, possessing a more subtle range of skills than the average right-footer (I always remember Kevin Sheedy, the 1980s Everton midfielder, possessing the archetypal “cultured left foot”).
I’m not sure that particular perception is based upon reality (there have been plenty of left-footed cloggers over the years as well... remember Julian Dicks and Francis Benali?), and suspect the illusion of left-footed technical superiority is based upon the inevitably that they are just a little... well, different.
A pass from a left-footed player will come at a different angle, with different spin on the ball, than the same pass from a right-footer. Space opens up to and is exploited by left-footed players where it just doesn’t appear to be available to right-footers, hence creating an impression of a greater skill set.
And perhaps the benefit of left-footed set-piece deliveries provides more opportunities for lefties to practise and take free-kicks and corners, further honing their technical abilities.
It appears, then, that being left-footed is actually a blessing rather than a curse for footballers. And it’s the same in many other sports.
In particular, there have always been a disproportionate number of high-class left-handed batsmen in cricket, including giants of the game such as Garry Sobers, Brian Lara, David Gower, Allan Border, Adam Gilchrist, Matthew Hayden and Saurav Ganguly as well as current England captain Alastair Cook.
Although there are also complex physiological explanations to do with the wiring of the brain, one main reason for the success of left-handed batsmen is that they are more difficult to bowl to.
This is largely because the vast majority of batsmen are right-handed and bowlers are therefore simply more accustomed to aiming their deliveries towards the left-hand “off” stump — the change of angle required for lefties leads to more “loose” deliveries, and thus more scoring opportunities.
In tennis, as well, being left-handed appears to be an advantage with all-time greats John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors, Rafa Nadal and, in the women’s game, Martina Navratilova leading the charge.
Similar to cricketers and footballers, the “other” nature of left-handed players is bound to be a significant factor: for opponents who habitually return serves, place shots and chase down rallies against right-handed players, the somewhat different angles and spin imparted upon the ball by left-handers are inevitably somewhat trickier to deal with.
When you also factor in Babe Ruth and Wayne Gretzky, respectively arguably the greatest baseball and ice hockey players of all-time, it’s clear that left-handers have nothing to complain about when it comes to sporting prowess.
But still they won’t make us a decent pair of scissors. The crusade must continue... so would my fellow left-handers please join me in a salute to our latest champion: Phil Mickelson.
Lefties of the world, unite!
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
