Golf swings are fingerprints that travel 120 miles an hour.
Idiosyncratic as voices, personalized as passwords, a golf swing can be identified from 400 yards away and may shape a golfer's life as surely as DNA.
Matthew Wolff looks like he's trying to kill one snake while stepping on another. He rotates forward, resets, swings the club outrageously upright, drops it into the hitting zone known as "the slot," lifts his left foot like an Irish dancer, then unfurls like a flag in high winds.
Hideki Matsuyama pauses in his backswing as if pondering changing clubs or careers, then pounds the ball like he's hammering a nail.
Tony Finau swings like he learned golf in a basement with an 8-foot ceiling. His backswing has barely begun when he begins his downswing, yet somehow he averages about 312 yards per drive.
Bryson DeChambeau embraces science and putts like his arms are in casts. His swing is Pi to Wolff's Picasso.
Saturday at the 3M Open, the 20-year-old Wolff played alongside 60-year-old Tom Lehman, and their swings were more contrasting than their hairlines.
Lehman's swing is short and smooth, visual advice for spine health and longevity. Wolff seems happy to ignore it.