golfpocalypse
It cannot be fun to play golf when you are egregiously bad ... it just can't
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Golfpocalypse is a weekly collection of words about (mostly) professional golf with very little in the way of a point, and the Surgeon General says it will make you a worse person. Reach out to The Golfpocalypse with your questions or comments on absolutely anything at shane.spr8@gmail.com.
It's become my habit to try to sneak in nine holes either at lunchtime or after work this summer, and I always play at the public course three minutes from my house. I love this course, and I love all the people working there, but I had an experience this past week that seems to happen more often every year, and I'm sure it's happening everywhere. Fair warning, this will make me sound like a snob, and I own that, but this is the kind of shit that deflates me: You're watching the group in front of you tee off on one, and four people in succession take these unbelievably tragic swings that produce a 30-yard slice, a hook, or some other disastrous result so rare and ugly that it doesn't yet have a name.
At that moment, you know you're screwed. I think I've gotten a little better at being patient in these situations and trying to enjoy the round, but when it happened yesterday, I just walked off the tee box and told the marshal I'd practice instead—it was the first cool day in North Carolina in what felt like ages, the course was packed, and I couldn't stomach the idea of waiting for ten minutes on every tee box. I would simply become the world's best wielder of a 54-degree wedge on the chipping green instead.
There are a few thoughts that always race to mind in this scenario. My first instinct is to go full curmudgeon: Golf's too popular! Shrink the game! This is ironic, considering I never picked up a club before 10 years ago and have benefited greatly from the welcoming, democratic atmosphere of places like my home course, and even if you offered me a free ritzy country club membership, I wouldn't take it because I'd miss the laid back atmosphere of public golf. So I try to stifle that impulse.
The next thought, which I delude myself into thinking is kinder and gentler, is that as recreational golf becomes more popular in the U.S., we need some kind of license system like they have in a few northern European countries, where you have to demonstrate basic aptitude before they let you play. It only happens there because there are so few courses, and it will absolutely never happen in the U.S. where there is plenty of capacity and owners rightfully want to make as much money as possible. But a fellow can dream.
The last thought, though—the one I can't shake—is this: What are these people getting out of this experience? If you can't break 130, is it really fun to play golf? Like, at all? Is there any kind of enjoyment in just slapping shots into hazards for four and a half hours? I mean, most of these people aren't even drinking! They're stone-cold sober just chunking shot after shot! How is this not just a death slog?
I want to emphasize that I'm differentiating between someone who is capable of making pars but will launch a few shots OB and shoot 115 while playing relatively quickly vs. someone who would have to accidentally hole out with a topped 5-wood from 100 yards to make a 7. I have friends in the former category, and it's totally fine. The latter is where it becomes excruciating. There's a certain delusional nature to it ... I imagine them sitting at home thinking, sure, I can go play golf. I haven't touched a club in a decade, but I have an old set in the garage, and how bad could it be? VERY BAD, FRIEND. VERY VERY BAD.
When I started a decade ago, I made sure to reach a certain threshold of ability on the range, and via lessons, before I ever played 18 holes. Don't get me wrong, I sucked—I still mostly suck today—but I knew how to swing and play fast and keep the course pace. And that's not because I'm some hero, but because to go out and shoot 135 would have been pure misery and a waste of my time. The people I see more and more frequently now have clearly not played golf more than a handful of times in their entire lives, but somehow they're happy to muck it up for an entire afternoon when presumably they could be doing something they actually enjoy.
You might be thinking that these people have more zen than me, and can just quietly enjoy an afternoon out on the course without measuring themselves against some arbitrary number. To which I say, no, they almost all seem unhappy and embarrassed and apologetic. Nobody is benefiting! At the very least, we need more cautionary signs like they have at Bethpage Black. Or maybe a stern man standing on the first tee who watches your shanked drive, shakes his head slowly, and points to the range.
FIVE TOUR THOUGHTS, FEDEX ST. JUDE EDITION
James Gilbert
1. That was a wildly fun Sunday in Memphis, and I want to personally thank Hideki Matsuyama for choking before he got it together and clutched it up on the last two holes. Without that initial 80 percent gag, we couldn't have enjoyed the Schauffele and Hovland charges. This is the second week in a row that a guy with a huge lead has pretty much blown it on the back nine, but where Max Greyserman's meltdown left everyone feeling sick, the Hideki escapade was perfect—you get to revel in the late drama, and then you feel good for him that he somehow got it together and won. Everyone profits!
2. I was trying to think of examples in sports of the "choke followed by clutch" scenario that we saw from Hideki, and it's harder than you think. I ran it by some friends, and got a couple decent ones, like Terrell Owens dropping six passes before he made "the catch" in the playoff game against the Packers, or Kobe Bryant going six-for-24 in Game 7 of the Celtics finals but hitting the game-winning free throws, or the Pats almost blowing their Super Bowl against the Rams in the fourth quarter before driving for the game-winning FG with 1:30 left. It's rarer than you think! Once people start choking, they rarely stop.
3. I think I'm fully resigned to Jordan Spieth having become a guy who piques your interest occasionally, grabs a PGA Tour event once every couple of years, but is otherwise basically a mid-level player who will probably never rejoin the elites. And that's fine, both for him and me. It's still a little weird considering how ridiculous he was in 2015, but at least he has the courtesy not to constantly get our hopes up like Rory. To go from prodigy to journeyman is kind of an odd trajectory, but you have to respect it in some way. And if he ever goes full prodigy again, it'll be a pleasant surprise rather than something we spend a decade waiting to see.
4. Speaking of clutch, it feels like Xander winning that first major has now unleashed him on the world, and he might be the most clutch golfer in the universe. After sinking that putt to win the PGA, he's now had the greatest final nine holes at a major championship that any of us have seen in a very long time at Troon, and then he just went seven under in Memphis and almost stole the win from Hideki. This man is completely scary right now.
5. Robert MacIntyre annoys me more than he should, and I don't quite know why. I'll keep you updated.
THE ABSOLUTE IRONCLAD LOCKS OF THE WEEK
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Patrick Smith
The Golfpocalypse is not a gambling advice service, and you should never heed anything written here. Better picks are here.
Record through 4 weeks: 1-17. It's been a tough start, but please keep pouring your money into my picks.
The BMW Championship is just screaming Scottie Scheffler at me. He never goes very long without winning, and I get the sense that he's going to deliver a crushing playoff blow here before coasting in Atlanta.
It's time for a MAJOR in the women's game! They're at the Open this week at St. Andrews, and I'm rolling with 21-year-old Atthaya Thitikul to become the first Thai winner at the Open, and it's not just because I like her nickname, Jeeno. But it's mostly that.
On the DP World Tour there is a tournament that seems to be called "Made in Denmark," and I'm going to be honest—I have no idea who any of these people are. So I'm going down the tee time list and picking the first name I recognize, which is Kiradech Aphibarnrat. I miss that guy!
On the Champions Tour, it's the "Ally Challenge" in Michigan, and because Ernie Els has now let me down two weeks in a row, I'm forced to make a drastic move and go with his 2019 Presidents Cup vice captain, K.J. Choi. It's a full palace coup!
At LIV Namibia, I'm riding with 67-year-old Frenchman Alexis Neville Alexis St. Duplante, who is shocking the golf world right now with his comeback after suffering for two decades with a succession of ingrown toenails.
THE "DUMB TAKE I KIND OF BELIEVE"
Screw it, the entire Tour Championship should just be a 64-man match-play knockout bracket starting on Wednesday, like the old school WGC-Match Play. I don't care if it's arbitrary; every championship is arbitrary. It would be fun and I want it.
THE READER STORY OF THE WEEK
Michael Blann
On the topic of bizarre playing partners, here's Andrew with a story that made me laugh out loud:
My friend and I were playing golf at Gateway National in Illinois a few months ago. Got paired with a random, probably 60ish, scruffy beard, not dressed for golf.
We were playing the tips and he was playing the senior tees. He birdies the first hole with a 20 foot putt. We get to the third hole and he shows us what had to be at minimum a 50oz bottle of wine he’s been drinking straight from his bag. After he shows us what he’s been sipping on he proceeds to pee right in the middle of the fairway. Birdies the third hole to get to -2. He keeps telling us how he has to leave to go to some event he doesn’t want to go to. We get to hole 5 where he is still -2 and says this will be his last hole. Makes another birdie to get to -3 through 5 and just calls it quits.
Just the most unexpected least likely thing I would’ve thought when I first met the guy and how he was talking, acting, dressed. Just chugging wine and knocking down birdies like it was nothing.
I love this man and wish he was my uncle.