Low taper fade
In the artistry of golf, the low taper fade refers to a highly elusive and almost mythical ball‑striking technique supposedly nigh‑impracticable to the common linksman, often whispered about on the fairways and from within the locker rooms, though few have ever seen it executed in the wild. The skill is often linked to the formidable rounds of "professional golfer" of enigmatic background Tyler "Ninja" Blevins, whose supposed mastery of the game remains a topic of heated debate, aptly so nicknamed due to his baffling precision and aim resulting in the kind of shots that make even the most seasoned pro raise an eyebrow.
As to whether Blevins pulls off the low taper fade, or if it is but a massive golfing myth – much like a hole-in-one on a par‑6 – remains uncertain.
Origins[edit | edit source]
Recent evidence carried out by esteemed golf scholar Putter O'Malley has revealed that the low taper fade was never born on the fairways of Augusta or St. Andrews, but rather in the unassuming confines of a small American barbershop named Drip Clips instead. We have particularly ambitious barber ericdoa to thank for the existence of the technique of myth. Judging by what recently unearthed CCTV footage has to offer us, at around 5:30 PM on 6 January 1997, Lopez, a part-time barber with a dream far bigger than his place of employment, was taking a practice swing before opening hours, wielding a broomstick coated in the hair of previous patrons.
Presumably, Lopez was under the impression that the principles of a perfect, flawless haircut – precision, control and the gentle, seamless taper of a fade – could be applied to golf, a sport at which his recently deceased grandfather had excelled back in his days of glory. Unfortunately, Lopez himself had never actually played golf, as luck would have it. However, fate had other plans. As he executed a smooth backswing, his broomstick unexpectedly clipped a greasy, scrunched up McDonald's napkin on the chequered floor, an abandoned relic from an anonymous customer who had attempted to turn it into an origami bird but gave up halfway through, upon his dismissal from the queue so that his hairdo could be done.
The succeeding events defied physics, as the napkin soared through the air in a perfect, downward arc, hugging an imaginary fairway, its trajectory mimicking the kind of ball flight witnessed only in the deepest corners of golf folklore: low, controlled, tapered, and fading ever so gently downward. Suffice it to say that claiming this was an impressive feat would be an understatement. Lopez promptly stood in complete silence thereafter, his broomstick trembling in his hands, unable to comprehend whether he had just invented a new golf shot that potentially had transcended sport itself. A shot so smooth, so tapered in its descent, that a group of passing golfers mistook it for divine intervention.[2]
In honour of this newfound discovery, Lopez punctually resigned from his job at Drip Clips, citing a higher calling that no amount of haircuts could ever satisfy. With a heart full of ambition and a broomstick still coated in the remnants of past patrons, he packed up his clippers, donned his grandpa's finest golf attire,[3] and migrated to Augusta the next day. There, he spent the rest of his days trying to convince golfing professionals that his shot was a game changer. Alas, Lopez's attempts to gain credibility were simply met with nods and polite smiles as he gestured wildly, much like a sign language translator on the telly, explaining the impossible physics behind what would soon be known as the low taper fade.
Etymology[edit | edit source]
As to how the shot earned its moniker, "low" refers to the ball's downward trajectory, which happens when the clubface is slightly open and pointing downward toward the target at impact. That is, assuming the golfer is neither left, right or even up‑handed, but instead opts for the more fabled "down-handed" grip – a technique so rare one can only imagine the possibility of its very existence. "Taper", on the other hand, refers to the smooth, gradually narrowing curve of the ball as it subtly drifts downward, as a seamless haircut. This combination of skills is so uniquely specialized that only down‑handed golfers can even dream of pulling it off, leaving the rest of us mere mortals to watch in awe and confusion from the sidelines of our little fantasy worlds.
Key elements[edit | edit source]
Much like attempting to fold a fitted bedsheet or understand tax law, executing the low taper fade is a feat that comes across as impossible to the common mortal and thus possible to the common immortal. Golf instructors refuse to teach it, club manufacturers pretend they have never heard of it, and professional golfers who claim to have attempted it are either lying or suffering from severe heat exhaustion. Yet, despite its near-mythical status, there are a few universally agreed-upon elements that make up this legendary shot. Be aware that attempting to replicate these following elements will likely result in confusion, frustration, and perhaps even an existential crisis.
The down-handed grip[edit | edit source]
The cornerstone of the low taper fade, the down‑handed grip is so scarce that even the most seasoned golf instructors refuse to acknowledge its existence. Neither left, right, up, forward, backward or red‑handed, this grip requires the golfer to hold the club in a manner that defies logic, tradition and possibly human anatomy. Some theorists suggest it was inspired by Lopez's natural broomstick handling, though others claim it was the result of years of refinement, practiced in secret until conditions were perfect for it to appear before the world. Of course, deniers argue that such a technique was never real to begin with: that it is merely a collective optical illusion, something spoken of in passing but never truly seen with one's own eyes outside hallucinations potentially induced by Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.
The perfect launch angle[edit | edit source]
Intrinsically, the low taper fade is famous for its downward trajectory, which, unlike a stinger or a punch shot, somehow manages to defy both gravity and expectation. Baffled physicists have made numerous attempts to analyse the delicate equilibrium between the fashion by which the ball rises and falls through the air, although their discoveries remain inconclusive, mostly due to there being about as much concrete evidence of its existence as a golfer claiming to have struck a concrete ball flush off the fairway and watched it spin back onto the green. Although some claim to have witnessed it first-hand, attempts to document it have all invariably resulted in accounts that vary massively and sound suspiciously like wishful thinking.
The "fade" in question[edit | edit source]
Despite being called a "fade", the low taper fade itself does not behave much like a conventional fade, much like how a red panda is neither red nor a panda. Instead of curving gently to the direction with which the golfer feels most comfortable, i.e. left or right, this shot respects no such binaries established by society. Rather, it tapers downward, subtly shifting in a way that can only be described as "chaotic good", the kind of motion that occurs so effortlessly, so naturally, that one struggles to believe it was ever performed on a porpoise. It is the kind of thing one does not simply create, but rather stumbles upon; something that emerges once in a blue moon, leaving its witnesses speechless. If you need an explanation as to what is meant by any of that, you will never hit a low taper fade in your lifetime. Guaranteed.
Cultural impact[edit | edit source]
Enter "Ninja"[edit | edit source]
Tyler "Ninja" Blevins is anything but one's typical golfer. His origins in the sport are vague, his competitive history virtually undocumented, and his methodology unorthodox. He has never appeared in a major championship leader board, nor does his name grace any official golf rankings[4]. And yet, somehow, his presence looms over the game like a spectre, attached to the low taper fade in ways that defy conventional understanding. It was with the arrival of the 2020s that Blevins' connection to the shot was considered by the press, kudos to several video recordings making the rounds on TikTok which feature him executing the low taper fade to perfection, launching a shot that defies logic, and scoring a 59 or lower with casual ease.
Unlike other so-called golf prodigies, Ninja has never sought validation. He seldom enters tournaments, seldom gives interviews explaining his "process", and has never attempted to prove himself against the sport's elite. His connection to the low taper fade exists in somewhat of an otherworldly vacuum, a shot seen by many, but verified by none. Even those who have purportedly played with him remain frustratingly vague. One particularly unlucky Russian golfer, Vladimir Puttin', reportedly spent years dismissing the shot as nothing more than "Western propaganda", in bitter denial that he could not replicate the shot during one fateful pro‑am event he and Ninja had both attended in June 2024, where Ninja prevailed by willing the ball into the fade. Attempts to capture the shot in sparkling HD have all proved futile. Nikon representatives claim that cameras mysteriously malfunction at the moment of impact, whilst Canon representatives report that footage vanishes from memory cards before it can be reviewed.
Talk Tuah interview and public reaction[edit | edit source]
Despite Ninja's unwavering silence regarding the low taper fade, one interview that took place on a Talk Tuah podcast caught him dangerously close to acknowledging the shot after months of neither confirming or denying his association with it. This interview took place on 10 December 2024, during what was supposed to be a routine conversation about sports, competition and focus. Haliey Welch, the host of the podcast, was without a doubt aware of the growing myth surrounding Ninja's golf abilities and could not resist slipping in a question about the fabled stroke.
"So, the low taper fade," Welch began, leaning in slightly. "It's become ... well, massive. A lot of people say you're the only person who can hit it. What do you say to that?" Ninja, unfazed, simply smirked at Welch and let a beat of silence pass. Then, leaning back in his armchair, he delivered his now-immortal response which has cemented a place in the public eye: "You know what else is massive?"
The room immediately fell silent. Welch spat straight into the microphone, letting out a "hawk tuah" of considerable decibel. The crew, unsure whether they were about to witness the greatest revelation in golf history, a complete non-answer, or rather a subversion of their initial expectations, leaned in. Ten seconds of complete and utter tranquillity succeeded before Ninja promptly responded with, "Well, my golf club of course!" as the interview swiftly proceeded. The room sat in stunned silence, processing what they had just witnessed. Welch, visibly taken aback, quickly tried to recover. "Uh, right, your golf club. Of course," she muttered, clearly flustered. Several uncertain glances were exchanged by the crew, who were unsure whether to chuckle or simply pretend nothing had happened. Ninja leaned back in his chair, his smirk unfading, as though he had just dropped the most casual and confident rejoinder in golf history.
Within the hours that followed, golf subreddits, usually reserved for in-depth technical discussions concerning swing mechanics and the perfect shaft flex, were suddenly inundated with polarizing debates. Was Ninja purposefully dodging the question to maintain the enigma surrounding the low taper fade? Had he actually hit one, or was he merely trolling the golf world into an endless loop of wild, wishful thinking? One particularly judicious Redditor of the username "GolfMaster23" postulated in a comment that maybe – just maybe – the low taper fade doesn't actually exist and is a golf urban legend created by the Internets for the sole purpose of making people feel as if they are in on some cosmic joke. Naturally, GolfMaster23's comment was promptly met with a barrage of twelve downvotes within the first hour of being posted, much to the chagrin of their dwindling reputation.