Johnson column: Lacking talent? Go buy something expensive
By Martin Johnson Not everyone making the transition from infant to adult manages to break their emotional bond to Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, and it …
Johnson column: I doubt Bubba’s hit many railway lines before Troon slump
By Martin Johnson There are a couple of ways to experience that lump in the throat feeling during an Open championship at Royal Troon. The first is to win the …
Johnson column: Golf’s rule book gives plenty of room for Banana skins
By Martin Johnson The rules fiasco from the final round of the US Open is still the subject of animated debate and has yet to be satisfactorily resolved. …
Johnson column: Only golf can turn a star into a hacker
by Martin Johnson It was good to see John Paramor buzzing around Wentworth in his buggy last week, pointing at his watch and asking various players whether …
Johnson column: How to speed up play? Just BAN the caddies!
by Martin Johnson Hopping between TV channels on Sunday turned out to be a little confusing, in that more than one programme featured a white ball travelling …
Johnson column: The Winter gadget hunt
by Martin Johnson I’ve always been a carrier – of a golf bag, that is, as opposed to some nasty disease – mostly because I’ve never got the hang of …
Wrap up warm: Winter golf is finally upon us
Winter has been a bit like Bernhard Langer this year, a bit slow to get down to business, but it won’t be long now before we start reaching for the bobble …
Slow play is nothing to chuckle about, ever!
By Martin Johnson Prior to playing in a recent midweek club competition, I checked the bag before teeing off to make sure I had everything I needed. Balls, …
The gym is not the answer in golf
Legendary sports writer Martin Johnson says golfers who trim down and hit the gym are not doing their games justice. It’s the same every year. There you are …
Martin Johnson: Some golf pros are a cure for insomnia
Years ago, when the most sophisticated method of communication involved Marconi messing about with iron filings and shouting “hello? hello?” into a tin …