Dan Shauger and Mike Austin, our story
I first met Mike Austin in 1979, after a year before taken up golf after I had been taken to a driving range by a couple of buddies. They had been playing the game for several years and were above average players. My buddies were amazed by the fact that I could hit all the short irons up to a 7 iron very high and quite far. My friends said that I was a natural and I foolishly agreed because it seemed like golf would be very easy for me.
I promptly went out and bought myself a set of clubs. Little did I know just how wrong I was about learning this game and just how far off track one could get by studying the golf swing conventionally, even for a person who had been lucky enough to have been born a natural athlete who always had good success at every sport I had ever played.
Since I am of the mind that knowledge is the key to success at anything, I spent all of my spare time studying every bit of written instructional material I could get my hands on starting with all the golfing magazines and reading every book I could get my hands on including Homer Kelleys book the Golfing Machine. Incidentally I have read that book backwards, forwards and side wards. All of this conflicting and leading nowhere in particular information only added to my confusion.
Fortunately for me no videos were available at that time, not on TV or over the then non-existent internet or I would have broken my piggy bank and purchased them all. Then I really would have been confused.
Inherently I knew that what I was learning was somehow disconnected and no where explained logically. I always felt like either information was missing or that some of the information I was getting was just plain wrong.
Thankfully Mike Austin dropped into my life, most likely because I was looking for a more knowledgeable instructor. Someone who could actually make me understand the web of confusion I found myself in.
I first met Mike Austin in 1979, after a year before taken up golf after I had been taken to a driving range by a couple of buddies. They had been playing the game for several years and were above average players. My buddies were amazed by the fact that I could hit all the short irons up to a 7 iron very high and quite far. My friends said that I was a natural and I foolishly agreed because it seemed like golf would be very easy for me.
I promptly went out and bought myself a set of clubs. Little did I know just how wrong I was about learning this game and just how far off track one could get by studying the golf swing conventionally, even for a person who had been lucky enough to have been born a natural athlete who always had good success at every sport I had ever played.
Since I am of the mind that knowledge is the key to success at anything, I spent all of my spare time studying every bit of written instructional material I could get my hands on starting with all the golfing magazines and reading every book I could get my hands on including Homer Kelleys book the Golfing Machine. Incidentally I have read that book backwards, forwards and side wards. All of this conflicting and leading nowhere in particular information only added to my confusion.
Fortunately for me no videos were available at that time, not on TV or over the then non-existent internet or I would have broken my piggy bank and purchased them all. Then I really would have been confused.
Inherently I knew that what I was learning was somehow disconnected and no where explained logically. I always felt like either information was missing or that some of the information I was getting was just plain wrong.
Thankfully Mike Austin dropped into my life, most likely because I was looking for a more knowledgeable instructor. Someone who could actually make me understand the web of confusion I found myself in.
Mike proved to be just that guy and a whole lot more.
No matter what question I asked him he always had the answer at the ready, he never once had to think about it and then give his opinion or theory, totally unlike other instructors.
Although cloaked in medical terminology the information was golden once I learned the language.
He knew the swing and the elements that it is composed of as well as he knew his own name. No where else in my studies and with no one else was I able to get answers that honestly made sense and were logical. When I applied his knowledge and descriptions of what happens during the swing and how the mind used the skeleton as a leveraged machine, I could instantly feel the difference in both the ease of my body movements and the contact with the ball.
Over the next 25 or so years we became very close friends developing a father and son like relationship. I actually became closer to him than I was to my real father, simply because we spent so much time together.
Throughout our long friendship he never once failed to teach me something new every time we met and we spent many happy times together both on and off the course, and as we played together or as I caddied for him in professional events.
Prior to meeting Mike I had been taking lessons from another well known pro who shall forever remain nameless. I must admit that with his lessons I could hit the ball 300 yards, unfortunately these were not lineal yards they were more like 150 yards out and 150 yards right with an occasional duck hook that was 150 yards left.
He was showing me how to hold my lower body, wind up the torso and roll my forearms over to square up the blade. Pretty much what every instructional piece of material, magazine or instructor was, and still are, prescribing in one way or another.
Mike wouldnt hear it, wanted none of that stuff, and loudly declared it to be pure B.S.
As I have come to find out, over the years, is that he was right, B.S. it is.
I took several lessons from him (and I may still have some of the bruises to prove it) but because of a lack of funds it was not a weekly thing. Still we had struck up a good rapport and I rather think he enjoyed watching me stretch my uneducated mind to learn this most difficult subject.
He started from day one teaching the movements of every body component, what each muscle did and why. His instructions to me were given in scientific and medical terminology that had me studying the dictionary and medical books for the exact meaning of the movements he described. It was a monumental task, and I spent hours reading anatomy books.
I had a huge thirst for learning, trying to get every bit of this knowledge. He served it up and I devoured it like Dracula at a necklace convention. Mike quickly saw my determination, and he was happy that I was able to follow his instruction and actually understand it as he passed on more and more of his wisdom.
I would occasionally take a lesson that I paid for or else bartered some work for by either fixing his car or working on his house. Although he always offered me free instruction (father and son) I always refused it and paid for it in some way.
After some time I decided to retire from my job as a Construction Coordinator in the movie industry, and with Mike's help secured a teaching position at a local golf course. I became a very popular instructor there giving many lessons to players of all levels. In between lessons I began writing my very first book, a tribute to my mentor. It was the original How to "Kill" the Ball book. This was a spiral bound book that Mike later financed the printing of.
One day I got a phone call from Mike, he had fallen down and needed my help to go to the hospital. I was far away, but drove 100 miles to take him in. I carried him to the car because he refused going in an ambulance (he was the most stubborn man I ever met in my life).
Once there the X-rays revealed a broken hip, and that he needed an immediate operation.
The operation was very hard on him, as it is on all older people, after the ordeal he was quite weak.
Knowing that broken hips often kill older people and seeing how weak Mike (the strongest willed person ever) had become, I knew I had to get the book to press as a tribute to him before he passed.
It took many months of me working night and day typing with 2 fingers while learning to use the computer and the multiple programs needed to write it and get it into book form with photos etc.
During this time Mike was transferred to a nursing home and I visited Mike daily driving 50 miles each way, every day, and showing him the progress I was making with the book. During this time he gradually recovered, but never got back to where he was before the fall.
I got the book into print a few months before Mike was allowed to go home having recovered 50%.
We both began selling the book and between me giving him money from the books I had sold and him selling books he was repaid his investment. I tried getting the book into book stores, but they didn't want it, partly because of the spiral binding and also because I had rushed it into print and it had many typos, misspellings and looked like it had been punctuated by a cave man.
Those who purchased it never once complained about the information it contained.
During the next few months I discovered that I could improve the book much more quickly and cheaply by having it done by print on demand and was hard at work cleaning it up and making it better.
I knew that the book needed a better cover and that Mike had a wonderful photo of Mike Dunaway on his wall. Mike was Austin's star pupil deeply loved as if a son, and also deeply loving his mentor. Sadly we never spent enough time together to form a brother like relationship.
Mike D was considered the finest driver of the golf ball in the world at that time by those who know what that means. I think that it was Greg Norman himself who uttered those words.
Mike Austin got Mike D.s approval to use the photo and the book was put into print.
As soon as the first copy of the new book arrived I went directly to Mikes house anxious to show him just how much better the book now was. I handed it to him glowing with pride. He studied the cover for over a minute, he then quickly paged through the book without reading any of it (he loved the original, praising my work as a scribe). In just a few seconds he threw the new book at me saying "This is a piece of Sh#t" and "Why is your name on the cover as writing it?" His next words were "I wrote that book, every word in it" even though the only thing he had written in the book was the preface which he dictated to me.
"I want your name off as writer and mine there instead" he fumed.
Needless to say I was floored by this, having worked so hard and so long in his behalf. It made me a little bit angry, that he would say this to me but no where near his level of rage.
I was flabergasted to hear him say this. He was acting as if he had dictated the book word for word and I was only a stenographer. The book was nothing of the sort, it was written by me in my words out of love and respect for a great man.
Fearing that he would have another stroke or heart attack due to his rage I left and said, I cannot be here with you now because I fear for your life. I did, as he was quite apoplectic, at that moment and his blood pressure was likely pushing 300.
I tried calling him on the phone a few times, but he would not talk to me.
Later when he passed away I was in Australia, it broke my heart when I got the news.
I never even got to go to his funeral, although I would likely have been persona non grata there through none of my own doing. I mourn him still and will continue to sing his praises until the day I die.
I always give him the credit to being the foundation of my knowledge, even to those who he has taught in the past who later came to me and say "You have made it so easy to understand" or "Is that what he meant?"
Many say that I have taken the knowledge further, I say that no one could have taken it much farther, he knew it all. I have simply tried to explain his incredible golf swing in terms anyone could understand.
I am still working at making it crystal clear and will continue to do it as long as I am able.
His mission in life was to break the code of the perfect golf swing.
My mission is to pass it on to you in a simple and understandable way.
No matter what question I asked him he always had the answer at the ready, he never once had to think about it and then give his opinion or theory, totally unlike other instructors.
Although cloaked in medical terminology the information was golden once I learned the language.
He knew the swing and the elements that it is composed of as well as he knew his own name. No where else in my studies and with no one else was I able to get answers that honestly made sense and were logical. When I applied his knowledge and descriptions of what happens during the swing and how the mind used the skeleton as a leveraged machine, I could instantly feel the difference in both the ease of my body movements and the contact with the ball.
Over the next 25 or so years we became very close friends developing a father and son like relationship. I actually became closer to him than I was to my real father, simply because we spent so much time together.
Throughout our long friendship he never once failed to teach me something new every time we met and we spent many happy times together both on and off the course, and as we played together or as I caddied for him in professional events.
Prior to meeting Mike I had been taking lessons from another well known pro who shall forever remain nameless. I must admit that with his lessons I could hit the ball 300 yards, unfortunately these were not lineal yards they were more like 150 yards out and 150 yards right with an occasional duck hook that was 150 yards left.
He was showing me how to hold my lower body, wind up the torso and roll my forearms over to square up the blade. Pretty much what every instructional piece of material, magazine or instructor was, and still are, prescribing in one way or another.
Mike wouldnt hear it, wanted none of that stuff, and loudly declared it to be pure B.S.
As I have come to find out, over the years, is that he was right, B.S. it is.
I took several lessons from him (and I may still have some of the bruises to prove it) but because of a lack of funds it was not a weekly thing. Still we had struck up a good rapport and I rather think he enjoyed watching me stretch my uneducated mind to learn this most difficult subject.
He started from day one teaching the movements of every body component, what each muscle did and why. His instructions to me were given in scientific and medical terminology that had me studying the dictionary and medical books for the exact meaning of the movements he described. It was a monumental task, and I spent hours reading anatomy books.
I had a huge thirst for learning, trying to get every bit of this knowledge. He served it up and I devoured it like Dracula at a necklace convention. Mike quickly saw my determination, and he was happy that I was able to follow his instruction and actually understand it as he passed on more and more of his wisdom.
I would occasionally take a lesson that I paid for or else bartered some work for by either fixing his car or working on his house. Although he always offered me free instruction (father and son) I always refused it and paid for it in some way.
After some time I decided to retire from my job as a Construction Coordinator in the movie industry, and with Mike's help secured a teaching position at a local golf course. I became a very popular instructor there giving many lessons to players of all levels. In between lessons I began writing my very first book, a tribute to my mentor. It was the original How to "Kill" the Ball book. This was a spiral bound book that Mike later financed the printing of.
One day I got a phone call from Mike, he had fallen down and needed my help to go to the hospital. I was far away, but drove 100 miles to take him in. I carried him to the car because he refused going in an ambulance (he was the most stubborn man I ever met in my life).
Once there the X-rays revealed a broken hip, and that he needed an immediate operation.
The operation was very hard on him, as it is on all older people, after the ordeal he was quite weak.
Knowing that broken hips often kill older people and seeing how weak Mike (the strongest willed person ever) had become, I knew I had to get the book to press as a tribute to him before he passed.
It took many months of me working night and day typing with 2 fingers while learning to use the computer and the multiple programs needed to write it and get it into book form with photos etc.
During this time Mike was transferred to a nursing home and I visited Mike daily driving 50 miles each way, every day, and showing him the progress I was making with the book. During this time he gradually recovered, but never got back to where he was before the fall.
I got the book into print a few months before Mike was allowed to go home having recovered 50%.
We both began selling the book and between me giving him money from the books I had sold and him selling books he was repaid his investment. I tried getting the book into book stores, but they didn't want it, partly because of the spiral binding and also because I had rushed it into print and it had many typos, misspellings and looked like it had been punctuated by a cave man.
Those who purchased it never once complained about the information it contained.
During the next few months I discovered that I could improve the book much more quickly and cheaply by having it done by print on demand and was hard at work cleaning it up and making it better.
I knew that the book needed a better cover and that Mike had a wonderful photo of Mike Dunaway on his wall. Mike was Austin's star pupil deeply loved as if a son, and also deeply loving his mentor. Sadly we never spent enough time together to form a brother like relationship.
Mike D was considered the finest driver of the golf ball in the world at that time by those who know what that means. I think that it was Greg Norman himself who uttered those words.
Mike Austin got Mike D.s approval to use the photo and the book was put into print.
As soon as the first copy of the new book arrived I went directly to Mikes house anxious to show him just how much better the book now was. I handed it to him glowing with pride. He studied the cover for over a minute, he then quickly paged through the book without reading any of it (he loved the original, praising my work as a scribe). In just a few seconds he threw the new book at me saying "This is a piece of Sh#t" and "Why is your name on the cover as writing it?" His next words were "I wrote that book, every word in it" even though the only thing he had written in the book was the preface which he dictated to me.
"I want your name off as writer and mine there instead" he fumed.
Needless to say I was floored by this, having worked so hard and so long in his behalf. It made me a little bit angry, that he would say this to me but no where near his level of rage.
I was flabergasted to hear him say this. He was acting as if he had dictated the book word for word and I was only a stenographer. The book was nothing of the sort, it was written by me in my words out of love and respect for a great man.
Fearing that he would have another stroke or heart attack due to his rage I left and said, I cannot be here with you now because I fear for your life. I did, as he was quite apoplectic, at that moment and his blood pressure was likely pushing 300.
I tried calling him on the phone a few times, but he would not talk to me.
Later when he passed away I was in Australia, it broke my heart when I got the news.
I never even got to go to his funeral, although I would likely have been persona non grata there through none of my own doing. I mourn him still and will continue to sing his praises until the day I die.
I always give him the credit to being the foundation of my knowledge, even to those who he has taught in the past who later came to me and say "You have made it so easy to understand" or "Is that what he meant?"
Many say that I have taken the knowledge further, I say that no one could have taken it much farther, he knew it all. I have simply tried to explain his incredible golf swing in terms anyone could understand.
I am still working at making it crystal clear and will continue to do it as long as I am able.
His mission in life was to break the code of the perfect golf swing.
My mission is to pass it on to you in a simple and understandable way.
