Years ago, after spending a fortune on PGA clothing and high end clubs, I stopped playing golf. It was too frustrating having that windmill blade knock away my orange ball just as it neared the cup.
Golf backwards is “Flog”. I flog so well with my 9 iron that I’m in great demand for digging holes for highway repairs, unclogging sewer lines, and holes to bury deceased animals.
“And from that day forward, everything that had transpired before was in the past.” Rarely have I heard such in-depth analysis (nor such genius satire!)
Dave, like "The Masters," "The Open," "The Times" and "Watergate" --- iconic and historic entities now raised to single word recognition --- I suggest it is well past time that you too receive this iconic and historic acknowledgement. So I declare that henceforth you are to be known simply as "The Barry" ("du Barry" having already been taken) and worthy of being included in Cole Porter's "You're the Top" whenever you like.
Ah yes, the usual conundrum even among those who regularly hunt the elusive par. Think of it this way, once you've accounted for your mulligans, breakfast balls, lunch balls, snack balls, culligans (water balls), finnegans, branagans, flanagans, or craigs --- aka do-overs --- plus the amount of time you keep the group behind you waiting while you order lunch minus the number 50, you will arrive at your score relative to par. Over time this score will allow you to claim you usually play to a 10 (handicap) or a 25 as a guest in member-guest tournaments.
As a birthday gift to my husband we went to a US Open held near Pittsburgh. One well-known professional British golfer hit his ball into a tree near where we were standing. My husband, very pleased, said, “I can do that!
Golf is actually an offshoot from NASCAR. The contestants drive around in primitive race cars that can tip over, dig up the putting greens, fall into ponds and give the operator injuries and a medical bill equivalent to a month’s salary. (NOTE TO PINEWOOD COUNTRY CLUB: Not that I would know about such things.)
Um Dave...I should point out that should you have the temerity to even think (they know Dave, they know...) about shouting, "IN THE HOLE!" "YOU DA MAN!," "MASHED POTATOES!" (the Dan Quayle favorite) or "BABA BOOEY!" --- even without exclamation points --- you will be asked politely to accompany the nice gentleman in a green jacket to a secluded but almost certainly iconic and historic location and in the great Augusta tradition, horsewhipped. Should you actually shout or make a rude noise of some kind within earshot of someone wearing a green jacket well --- common decency prevents me from divulging what happens next. But believe me, it is iconic. Maybe even historic. I can reveal, however, that Arnaud Kruetz of Kalamazoo, MI who exceeded the Master's flatulence frequency and decibel level for non-VIP guests (it's right there in fine print on your ticket) during the third round of the 1996 tournament was forced to serve as Greg Norman's tee for the rest of the competition. You may remember that Mr. Norman iconically and historically lost a six-stroke lead in the final round and wound up losing the iconic and historic tournament by five strokes, causing him to become the first CEO of LIV Golf and be paid many millions of dollars. It couldn't have been a pleasant experience for the Michigander.
I wish you would have added some comment on the Saudi-run LIV tournament that Trump appears to favor. Still, golf makes as much sense to me as the “algorithm” the admin used to determine the tariff percentages, especially on penguins.
Years ago, after spending a fortune on PGA clothing and high end clubs, I stopped playing golf. It was too frustrating having that windmill blade knock away my orange ball just as it neared the cup.
👏🏻🤣👏🏻🤣👏🏻 Well done!!!
Golf backwards is “Flog”. I flog so well with my 9 iron that I’m in great demand for digging holes for highway repairs, unclogging sewer lines, and holes to bury deceased animals.
On the plus side, you (nor I) will ever have to worry about coordinating green clothing with the rest of your wardrobe.
Dave, I sincerely hope that you will be writing more sports history. Thanks very much.
Is any game not being played right now considered history?
“And from that day forward, everything that had transpired before was in the past.” Rarely have I heard such in-depth analysis (nor such genius satire!)
This is true for every sport but cricket. By rule, cricket matches never end, even when no one appears to be on the pitch or watching.
This makes intuitive sense. Cricket certainly feels like it never ends while I’m watching.
I don’t even give a hoot about golf. I read this anyway and it still made me not give a hoot about golf. But I laughed harder than a hammered golfer.
Dave, like "The Masters," "The Open," "The Times" and "Watergate" --- iconic and historic entities now raised to single word recognition --- I suggest it is well past time that you too receive this iconic and historic acknowledgement. So I declare that henceforth you are to be known simply as "The Barry" ("du Barry" having already been taken) and worthy of being included in Cole Porter's "You're the Top" whenever you like.
I prefer “The Dave.” Makes him seem more relatable to the unwashed masses. And the masses that showered this week.
MerryCatholic.substack.com
This column reminded me of something that I’ve never understood: the “handicap” in golf. In my quest for knowledge, I uncovered this gem:
"Essentially, golf handicap means the gross total of how many strokes you are able to hit over or under par on a course”
I believe this explains why golf is not our National Pastime and never will be.
I wonder what the criteria are for being a national pastime. The case can be made that our national pastime is arguing with strangers on the internet.
(Is so!)
It’s Trump’s national (and apparently every weekend at the cost to the taxpayers of $12,000) full-time past time.
At least it makes more sense than the tariff equation.
Ah yes, the usual conundrum even among those who regularly hunt the elusive par. Think of it this way, once you've accounted for your mulligans, breakfast balls, lunch balls, snack balls, culligans (water balls), finnegans, branagans, flanagans, or craigs --- aka do-overs --- plus the amount of time you keep the group behind you waiting while you order lunch minus the number 50, you will arrive at your score relative to par. Over time this score will allow you to claim you usually play to a 10 (handicap) or a 25 as a guest in member-guest tournaments.
As a birthday gift to my husband we went to a US Open held near Pittsburgh. One well-known professional British golfer hit his ball into a tree near where we were standing. My husband, very pleased, said, “I can do that!
To your first point, golf stands for “Gentleman only, ladies forbidden”
I used to play and I got pretty good. I was 6 inches away from a hole in one. Someone else had hit the shot but I was standing 6 inches away!
This is beautiful!!! 🤣🤣🤣
Does that count?
Golf is actually an offshoot from NASCAR. The contestants drive around in primitive race cars that can tip over, dig up the putting greens, fall into ponds and give the operator injuries and a medical bill equivalent to a month’s salary. (NOTE TO PINEWOOD COUNTRY CLUB: Not that I would know about such things.)
"and quite frankly I had a small incident in my undershorts just from typing it"
I see the Viagra from the car wash is working!
Seriously, at 80 gazillion years old that's quite a feat! Whatever you are taking I want some.
I think he only uses pure spring water. Well and vodka, just like the rest of us.
Um Dave...I should point out that should you have the temerity to even think (they know Dave, they know...) about shouting, "IN THE HOLE!" "YOU DA MAN!," "MASHED POTATOES!" (the Dan Quayle favorite) or "BABA BOOEY!" --- even without exclamation points --- you will be asked politely to accompany the nice gentleman in a green jacket to a secluded but almost certainly iconic and historic location and in the great Augusta tradition, horsewhipped. Should you actually shout or make a rude noise of some kind within earshot of someone wearing a green jacket well --- common decency prevents me from divulging what happens next. But believe me, it is iconic. Maybe even historic. I can reveal, however, that Arnaud Kruetz of Kalamazoo, MI who exceeded the Master's flatulence frequency and decibel level for non-VIP guests (it's right there in fine print on your ticket) during the third round of the 1996 tournament was forced to serve as Greg Norman's tee for the rest of the competition. You may remember that Mr. Norman iconically and historically lost a six-stroke lead in the final round and wound up losing the iconic and historic tournament by five strokes, causing him to become the first CEO of LIV Golf and be paid many millions of dollars. It couldn't have been a pleasant experience for the Michigander.
That'll teach Norman to mess around with the Masters.
Well. That was iconic, if not informative.
I wish you would have added some comment on the Saudi-run LIV tournament that Trump appears to favor. Still, golf makes as much sense to me as the “algorithm” the admin used to determine the tariff percentages, especially on penguins.
Your humor gets me through some of the current events. Please keep it up!!
I do not play golf. I attempt golf.