If Hans and Franz went into business with Tiger Woods, the result might look something like Drive 495, a golf gym geared to whip the body and handicap into fighting form. Seizing on the growing role of fitness in a sport that William Wordsworth called "a round of strenuous idleness," brothers Don (a trainer) and Joseph (a golfer) Saladino have opened a $4 million SoHo facility, which boasts course simulators, exercise equipment, flat-screen TVs, a foxy in-house nutritionist, and, of course, the discerning sensibility of a country club. The $5,000 annual memberships will max out at just 500, guaranteeing open machines for the likes of Hugh Jackman.
Having suffered the exquisite embarrassment of finishing last in my family-reunion golf tournament two years in a row, I eagerly submitted to Drive 495's tender ministrations. First, resident pro Terri Migliaccio watched me hit (read: slice) a 7-iron on the virtual driving range and diagnosed the problem immediately: shorten my swing, strike a more athletic posture—"like a quarterback catching a snap"—and rotate my hips more on the downswing. Next the Saladinos wired sensors to my club, torso, arms, and pelvis for an AIM-3D swing analysis—the same technology used in golf video games—and replayed it in slo-mo from every angle. Watching yourself golf is as cringe-inducing as listening to your voice on tape, but by tracking all four components of my swing sequence, Joe found that on my follow-through, the club moved before my hips did—bad news—and that my lower body was moving laterally rather than rotating. Like a certain Latina singer, my hips don't lie.
My weaknesses laid bare, Don led me through an exercise and weight regimen tailored for lower-body stability, including Russian twists (obliques), bridges with extensions (glutes and hamstrings), lunges (quads), and something appropriately called deer in headlights (glutes). By the end of my three-hour visit I felt like I'd played 180 holes and, strangely, wanted to play 180 more. "After the first month of results, it becomes like a drug," said Don. "You'll be like, 'What can you do for me next?'"
