In the early 1970s, golf instructors looked at Jack Nicklaus’s swing and saw problems.
His right elbow lifted away from his body at the top of the backswing — a so-called “flying elbow” that supposedly indicated poor technique. His swing plane was unusually upright for the era, when a flatter, more around-the-body motion was fashionable. And his go-to shot was a fade — a left-to-right ball flight that the conventional wisdom of the time dismissed as a weak man’s shot, a slice being managed rather than a deliberate weapon.
“My flying right elbow and upright plane have sometimes been criticised as poor backswing form,” Nicklaus said in Golf Digest in 1972. “Well, I could change both — but if I did, I’d certainly lose distance.”
He didn’t change either. He kept winning majors instead — 18 of them, a record that has stood for over 50 years.
What looked like flaws to his contemporaries were actually the engine of the most powerful and reliable ball-striking of his generation. And the fade that everyone dismissed? It was the most important shot in his bag.
Why Most Golfers Think the Fade Is Weak
Ask most club golfers which shot goes further — a draw or a fade — and almost all of them will say the draw.
They’re not entirely wrong. A draw creates a lower launch angle and more forward spin at impact, which typically generates more roll after landing. Off the tee on a firm, flat fairway, a well-struck draw will often run out further than the equivalent fade.
But here’s what the conventional wisdom misses: a draw is also harder to control. It requires more precise timing through impact, more active hand rotation, and a tighter margin for error. When it goes wrong it tends to go very wrong — a snap hook that’s unplayable, or a pull that ends up in the left rough. The failure mode of a draw is a hook. And a hook is one of the most destructive shots in golf.
The failure mode of a fade, when controlled, is a straight ball or a gentle push. Both of which leave you in the fairway.
Nicklaus understood this. His coach Jack Grout helped him understand it from the beginning of his professional career. The fade was not a compromise — it was a deliberate choice, built into his technique from the ground up, and it gave him something no amount of raw power could: predictability.
The Flying Elbow Was Not a Flaw
The story of Nicklaus’s “flying right elbow” is a masterclass in how conventional wisdom can be completely wrong.
When Nicklaus emerged on the tour in the early 1960s, Ben Hogan’s influence dominated instruction. Hogan kept his right elbow tucked tight to his body throughout the backswing — a position that promotes a flatter, more rotational swing and a slight draw. His book The Five Lessons had become the bible of golf instruction. Anyone who swung differently was assumed to be doing it wrong.
Nicklaus’s elbow lifted away from his body at the top. Instructors said he’d never win consistently with that move. He went ahead and won 18 majors.
What the critics missed was what the elbow position was actually doing. By allowing his right elbow to lift, Nicklaus created a much wider swing arc. The club went further back and further up — generating more potential energy for the downswing. And rather than promoting a flat, rotational release through the ball, the upright plane encouraged a more vertical delivery that naturally kept the clubface slightly open at impact.
“Hugging the elbow to my side would limit my arc and thus my power,” Nicklaus said. “Stretching the club straight back from the ball as far as possible, without swaying, then stretching it as high as possible, gives me a much fuller arc than I would achieve by swinging more around my body on a flatter plane.”
The flying elbow and the upright plane weren’t flaws. They were the architecture of the power fade — wide arc for maximum speed, high delivery for maximum height and soft landing, slightly open face for left-to-right shape and control.
Modern 3D analysis has confirmed what Nicklaus knew instinctively. The flying elbow creates arc width that generates clubhead speed. The key — and where amateurs differ from Nicklaus — is that he dropped the elbow into the correct position during the transition from backswing to downswing. The elbow flew on the way up and slotted on the way down. Most amateurs who try to copy the flying elbow forget the second part.
How the Power Fade Actually Works
Nicklaus explained his method simply and precisely. There were no complicated positions, no 12-step sequences.
“To hit a fade, all that I do is instead of having the clubface square at address, I open the clubface slightly and then I aim slightly to the left of the target. Then I make the exact same swing.”
That’s it. Open the face slightly. Aim the body left of the target. Swing along the body line. The face, being slightly open relative to the path, imparts left-to-right spin. The ball starts left and curves back to the target.
The critical distinction — and this is where the power comes in — is that Nicklaus’s fade was not an over-the-top, cutting-across-the-ball motion. It was a push-fade, starting the ball on an inside-to-out path but with the face open enough to spin it back left-to-right. This is the most important technical detail in understanding why his fade was powerful rather than weak.
A slice — what most amateurs produce — comes from an out-to-in path combined with an open face. The club cuts across the ball, producing a glancing blow, a high weak flight and a loss of distance.
The Nicklaus power fade came from an inside path combined with a slightly open face. The club was still compressing the ball efficiently, transferring maximum energy at impact, just with enough face angle to generate the controlled left-to-right movement.
The result: a ball that flew high, landed soft, held its line in a crosswind, and stopped where it landed rather than running through the fairway or the green. All without sacrificing the distance his powerful swing generated.
You Need to Learn the Draw First
Here is the most counterintuitive thing Nicklaus ever said about the fade — and the thing most golfers ignore:
“I don’t think you should ever try to hit fades unless you can first draw the ball.”
His reasoning was mechanical and precise. To hit a draw, you need an inside-to-out swing path — the club travelling from inside the target line, through the ball, and releasing to the right. This is the swing path that produces maximum compression at impact, because you’re hitting through the ball rather than across it.
If you cannot produce an inside path — if your natural instinct is to swing from out to in — you don’t have the foundation for a power fade. What you have is the foundation for a slice, which is the same shape but a completely different thing.
“If you cannot hit your shots with a swing path that comes from inside the target line, and release the club so it turns over with the toe passing the heel through impact, you’re never going to apply maximum power to the ball,” Nicklaus said. “To play a power fade, do yourself a favour and first learn to draw the ball.”
This is a counterintuitive instruction for the majority of club golfers who already fight a left-to-right ball flight. But the logic is sound. A slice and a power fade look the same in the air. Mechanically, they are opposites. The slice comes from an out-to-in path — which loses power. The fade comes from an inside path — which preserves it. You can’t get to one without understanding the other.
How the Fade Gave Nicklaus a Strategic Edge
The power of the fade wasn’t just technical. It was tactical.
Because Nicklaus knew with certainty that his ball would fade left-to-right, he could aim down the left side of any fairway and use the entire width of the hole. Most golfers aim at the centre of the fairway, leaving themselves only half the fairway as margin for error. Nicklaus aimed at the left side — far enough that even a slightly mis-hit that started further left was still in the fairway — and let the fade bring it back to the right. He gave himself the whole fairway to work with.
“I rarely try to hit the ball dead straight with the driver,” he wrote. “Having determined exactly where I want the ball to finish, I’ll play down the left or right side of the fairway, fading or drawing the ball toward my target. I give myself the entire width of the fairway to play with.”
The fade also gave him a strategic advantage into greens. A left-to-right ball flight lands with more backspin — it checks up and stops faster than a draw. For a player like Nicklaus who attacked pins aggressively, the ability to land the ball softly and know it would stay where it landed was enormously valuable, particularly on the firm, fast greens of major championships.
He rode left-to-right winds rather than fighting them. He teed up close to the trouble side and shaped the ball away from it. The fade wasn’t a limitation — it was a weapon he understood completely, deployed precisely, and built an entire game plan around for 25 years.
What Every Club Golfer Can Take From This
You don’t need to rebuild your swing to understand Nicklaus’s approach to the fade. Here’s what’s actually useful.
The first lesson: play with your natural shot shape rather than against it. The majority of amateur golfers produce some degree of left-to-right movement. Rather than spending years trying to convert that into a draw, understand your actual ball flight, aim accordingly, and use the full width of the fairway. A controlled fade beats a miscued draw every time.
The second lesson: the conservative target, aggressive swing principle applies here too. Pick the left side of the fairway as your target. Aim the body there. Commit to that target completely. Then make a full, free swing. Don’t steer the ball — let your natural flight do the work.
The third lesson: open the clubface at address, not during the swing. Nicklaus’s fade was set up before he started — face angle adjusted, body aligned, same swing. Most amateurs who try to hit a fade manipulate the club during the downswing, producing an inconsistent, cutting motion that loses speed. Do it at address. Then forget it and swing.
Nicklaus hit a fade his entire career. The critics said it would hold him back. It won him 18 majors.
That’s not an accident.
