Some years back, I was contacted by a golf club company to see if I knew anyone in California who'd crack a whip for their advertisement for a new golf club – “The Bullwhip”. At that time, I could not help them (now, of course, I could give them quite a large list to choose from).

The way I remember it being told to me, it was so named because the shaft had a flexible point about half-way down so that as you swung the club, it "whipped" forward through the ball at that point.

The image stayed in my mind and led me to a little “giggle grabber” I'll share with you here.

Imagine that your whip is a right-handed golf club (flexible, yes). Now imagine the whip extending out from your hands to a spot on the ground in front of you. With your arms straight, pull the handle (with a bit of oomph) back to the right, then pause for a second. Even though the handle has stopped, the thong will continue to travel, just as it does in a circus crack. It will soar over the top of your bowed head as you lean forward, so the line of the stroke is vertical - you are on one side of the vertical line, the golf ball on the other side.

Now you shift your weight and swing the handle to the left with straight arms down-around-and-up. Whip cracks resoundingly at the point of the imaginary "golf ball", because you have made a simple circus crack with only the angle of attack changed. I think Tiger Woods would probably crack a good whip.

After the crack, I look down the fairway for the ball as the audience reacts. I've seen the set up is better if I wiggle my butt thoughtfully before I start the swing, parodying a self-conscious duffer trying to get it “right.”

Even off stage when I'm teaching, I try to relate whip cracking to an activity the student already has experienced. In my hands, a bullwhip has become a baseball bat, a tennis racket, even a Frisbee to be flipped sideways underhand.

I guess that's what happens when you immerse yourself in something. I see the secret universe of the bullwhip everywhere I look, when I'm tuned in to it. It's in the flowing red and white stripes of a US flag fluttering gently in a breeze. It's in the thundering mountain of water the surfer tries to stay atop before that wave begins to break. It's in the spiraling arms of galaxies at the edges of what we can see in space. It's in the meditative tail flip of every cat, large or small, domestic or wild.

Take a look around you, because our world is rich with it. It's right there, Sport.

Aug 1 - Minneapolis, MN - Walker Art Center's "Open Field"
Aug 7, 2010 - Phoenix, AZ
Aug 13-15, 2010 - Los Angeles, CA
Aug. 28-29 - Morristown, MN - Shooters Roundup

Legendary stunt man and bullwhip artist ALEX GREEN passed away in Vancouver on July 21, just days before the annual Brian Chic Whip Artistry Award winner was named at the Annie Oakley Days Festival in Greenville, Ohio.

The award was given to Green posthumously by noted bullwhip performer and teacher Gery Deer, coordinator of the bullwhip component of the festival.

The 68-year-old Aussie had battled liver cancer for the past year. Founder of Stunts Canada and co-founder of the Wild West Arts Club, Green gave more than 2,500 performances and appeared in numerous TV shows and films. He was the whip coach for Anthony Hopkins in 1998's "The Mask of Zorro."

Even from childhood, Green always knew he wanted to be in cowboy movies. He moved to Vancouver from Australia in the 1960s to look for work in Hollywood, eventually working with many of the great Western actors.

Always a gentleman who made time for others, Green was much respected and liked by all who met him, both personally and professionally. His willingness to share his knowledge of and passion for whip cracking helped set many of today's pro bullwhip artists on the right path.

On a personal note, I met him once, in Las Vegas at a WWAC convention, where he was enjoying events with his buddy Mark Allen (Western Stage Props) and whip great John Brady. After watching me perform a quick newspaper cutting routine with an 8-foot bullwhip which I made scarier by taking the hand-held scrap of paper down to postage-stamp size, he said only one word to me:"Impressive!"

That one nod of approval from a man I admired meant the world to me. It was a shining moment I have never forgotten.

While he and his wife never had children of their own, a whole generation of stunt men and women and whip performers can rightfully consider him a godfather of their art. His like will not pass this way again soon.

(Photo by: Headshot, StuntsCanada.com)

Here's what that bullwhip golf swing looks like