Vaughn puts nix on golf gimmicks

Cyrus Vaughn claims to have kicked his golf gadget addition.

But the 64-year-old restaurant developer and former owner of Cyrus O’Leary’s admits he still has several of the many swing aids and training devices he has purchased through the years sitting in garage – most of them gathering dust.

“I really don’t think any of them work very well,” said Vaughn, a 9-handicapper at Manito Golf & Country Club, who is considered in most local golf circles to be Spokane’s unofficial Godfather of Golf Gadgets.

Still, Vaughn confesses to having tried “hundreds of little devices” in search of the perfect golf swing.

Some, he recalls, were guaranteed to lower his handicap. Others were designed to add distance off the tee. Still others claimed to be the fix for a broken putting stroke.

So many gimmicky gadgets and devices have made their way into Vaughn’s garage and golf bag that he no longer remembers what most of them were called. Or what they were supposed to correct, for that matter.

“I’ve tried using a laser to help my putting alignment,” he said. “I’ve had the Medicus, that hinged club that is supposed to teach a player how to stay on plane.

“I even tried one device that was kind of a belt that had a little buzzer on it. I called in the X-Factor Belt. It would measure the angle between your hips and shoulders during your swing, and if you got a big enough separation there, a beep would go off, letting you know you had a good X-Factor.

“That was kind of a weird one.”

Vaughn even purchased a Groove Tube Full Circle Swing Trainer, a free-standing device that features a circular frame composed of PVC pipe. The idea is to stand inside the slanted circular frame and swing the club along the frame to get a feel for the proper swing plane.

“Yeah, I had one of those,” Vaughn said. “That thing broke in three weeks. It wasn’t what I needed, either.”

Vaughn, who has been playing golf since he was 9 years old and once carried a handicap of just under 4, said he still remembers his late father – a scratch golfer – scoffing at most of his purchases.

“I would bring some product home and my dad, who was a great player, would laugh and say, ‘You can’t buy a game,’ ” Vaughn recalled. “And he was right. You can try all of that stuff, but you can’t buy a game.”

In support of his father’s belief, Vaughn jokingly points to the recent and costly crusade of his close friend Kenny Hester, who flew down to Scottsdale, Ariz., to be fitted for a driver by the professionals at Hot Stix Golf.

“He came back, and I played with him last week,” Vaughn chuckled, “and he’s living proof you can’t buy a game.”

Vaughn said one of his worst purchases was a putting aid that consisted of two metal tracks with a mirror between them.

The idea, he explained, was to look down into the mirror, line your eyes up over the ball and then bring the putter back between the two metal tracks to make sure it stayed on line during the stroke.

“That was probably the craziest thing I bought,” Vaughn admitted.

The best, Vaughn added, was a swing-aid device marketed by teaching guru David Leadbetter.

“It was called The Coach,” he said, “and it was designed to make sure you keep the club on plane.”

Vaughn described The Coach as “a standup machine, about 4 feet tall, with a little arm on it. There’s a grip on it, too, and when you take it back, it forces you to keep the club on plane.

“I think if somebody worked with that on a continual basis, it might help.”

Unfortunately, for Vaughn, he never used the device long enough to reap its potential benefits. Back problems, he explained, have limited the amount of time he spends on the golf course these days – along with the amount of time he spends working with swing aids.

“In fact, I took a bunch of things up to Manito last year and gave to Steve Prugh,” Vaughn said.

Prugh, Manito’s head professional, said he still has a couple of the training devices Vaughn “donated” in his possession. Most of the others, he explained, were deep-sixed – an indication that Vaughn was spot on with his earlier assessment of their considerably limited value.

“They just don’t help,” Vaughn emphasized. “I know – I spent a lot of money on them. People would be better off taking their money and spending it on lesson from one of our local PGA pros.”