Like a dog licking its wounds you pause to suck at the fresh droplets of blood rising from the scratch on your forearm, inflicted by the mass of bramble into which you are convinced your ball disappeared. Yet no amount of beating from the five iron you have clenched in your fist seems to reveal the hiding place of that small illusive object.

Whilst pausing to make an examination of this, the latest of many such injuries, you try to find reason in the situation. It should all have been very straightforward. The fairway is wide and the shot simple. The lie of the ball was good and what should have been an easy iron shot up to the pin has ended in sheer frustration and torment. Although you do not realise it at the time, all your mutterings of curses seek only to make the remainder of your game no less arduous. It has not been a good day, now two balls lost, several strokes down and the prospect of defeat beginning to seem a stark reality.

You may look to your opponent, perhaps in the vain hope of some form of sympathy or support, but you find that although he makes an effort to respond in the desired manner you can clearly detect the glint of glee in his eye as he senses another easy victory. The problem is that this is not just a one-off, and when you reflect upon your lack-lustre performance you realise that your game never really did have that sparkle. Perhaps your manners were not all that they should have been in declining the offer of a drink at the clubhouse after the game.

Upon analysing your situation you decide that something has to be done in order to correct this latest entry in your catalogue of humiliation, and that remedial action is needed if success is to be achieved. This is perhaps the point where you swallow your pride and make an approach to your local club pro for a spot of coaching?

If you have just double checked to make sure you were reading this piece where you thought you were, with the idea that you may have looked up some other publication by accident, I can assure you that you are indeed reading the Ride Drive web pages. So why all the stuff about golf?

What I am doing here is using the game as an analogy as both the club swinging activity, to which I refer, and driving a car have a great deal in common; even those who do not play the game must surely understand where I'm coming from?

You see, making a golf shot requires several technical elements to be employed, when used together in the correct sequence and with the correct timing, all culminate in that special something that delivers the perfect shot. You may know how to address the ball, understand the concept of poise, balance and swing, but as the face of your club connects with the ball you instantly know how the shot is going to fair even before there has been time for that infuriating object to reveal its directional intentions. It is that indiscernible sixth-sense feel that can make the difference between elation and dismay, but nonetheless sense it you do.

Some may view the act of delivering the perfect golf shot as an art form, and they are right to do so. Those who do it professionally, and who have achieved some recognised acclaim, make it appear easy with remarkable regularity, leaving those lesser mortals such as you and I to gaze on in awe.

So what of driving a car? Most of us are car drivers these days and I cannot imagine why someone who isn't would be reading this page. With this in mind I am of the opinion that I have a captive audience of like-minded people.

Like the golf swing, driving a car well is all down to poise, balance, technique and timing coupled with a sound understanding of what you are doing and why. That is to say it is conditional upon the many elements needed to achieve your goal being employed at the right time, in the correct sequence with the exclusion of any actions irrelevant to that particular endeavour. After all you wouldn't contemplate using a No. 2 wood to get yourself out of a sand bunker any more than you would intentionally attempt a hill start in fourth gear, but when you do get it right you know it is right, because it feels right. And where do you feel it? Normally through that much ridiculed part of the human anatomy - your back-side. It's instinct that tells you.

It may have been that last bend, the overtake or even a particular gear change, and yet it felt so different to the many other similar actions that preceded it. "That was good - what did I do then?" you may well ask yourself. You possibly don't really know the answer to your own question, but nevertheless whatever it was, it was special. You made that magical connection for brief fleeting moment where you and the car connected.

Imagine if you could go for a drive in a car where every manoeuvre or procedure you carried out was that good all the time. Perhaps it is too ambitious of anyone to think of doing exactly that, but there is no harm in using the criteria as a target at which to aim.

I do not believe there is anyone who can consistently deliver the perfect drive, and I for one wouldn't be so arrogant as to lay claim to having achieved that. For those who have not had the benefit of being shown anything else I can tell you that a vast difference can be made if you can get somewhere towards achieving it.

Everyone has a driving skill, and that has got to be respected. We all have our own perceived level of ability, which is nearly always greater than our level in reality. To criticise that ability is almost to criticise a person’s status as a human being, and it is with this in mind that our methods here at Ride Drive take on a more pleasant approach. We replace doubt with encouragement, timidity with confidence, culminating in a great sense of personal pride and achievement.

I have as great a passion for driving as I do for TVR sports cars, and I get a tremendous kick out of experiencing the moment when a driver becoming at one with their machine – when that definitive moment occurs when they suddenly connect. It’s a bit like seeing that sunrise in blazing colour at the end of a dreary damp night.

There can be no denying that the TVR is an awesome motorcar, and in my opinion of anyone whose senses fail to be aroused by the sight or sound of one really does need to get out more often! A certain European car manufacturer may make the rather dubious claim to have produced the ultimate driving machine, but what they do not have is the ultimate driver's machine. That accolade has to go to the company in Blackpool.

A TVR deserves to be driven well, and when it is the experience is so sweet you can almost taste it. I have a long list of clients who have been assisted in fulfilling their full driving potential, and who have responded so positively to the experience. Certainly there is not one amongst them that has reviewed their session in a negative manner. Pure excitement and pleasure seems to be the underlying tone, but how, as a company offering advanced driving skills, do we reach more of those who stand to benefit? It is much in the same way as the golfer approaches his club pro' that a driver can find a whole new driving experience by tuning to the professional, but the desire to progress has to come from within.

The remarkable difference I see in the driving style of our clients during their Advanced Driving Experience sessions is difficult to put into words. When you consider how long in terms of years many have been driving it gives me so much pleasure to note how well they develop, even in just one day - but what of the game of golf? Fewer ball losses, less thrashing around in bushes, a more satisfying game and certainly a whole lot less stress. It is incredible what can be gained from consulting the right people.

Julian Smith
Ride Drive Limited