What Type of Miscreant Are You?

We have all come across these characters when we golf. Heck, we are them too. Who hasn't thrown or smashed a club in anger? Find your type!

Bong and Beer Division:

The Stoner: If you play with just one stoner you might not notice he is baked out of his mind. But if you get stuck with two stoners they will tell stoner jokes, toss tees at each other and just think that they are 10 x funnier than they really are. One of them might actually be pretty good for a few holes. Stoners love Lake Chabot and Willow Park golf courses in the East Bay.

Drunk-No Talent: This person is not even playing golf. He just wants two beers a hole and will try to get the cooler onto the golf cart. The drunk will ruin your outing. This is the guy who unfastens the straps holding your clubs to the cart.

Drunk With Game: This golfer needs his booze and hits the Jameson or otherhard liquor. He likely has three DUIs to his name and his wife has to give him rides to and from the course. I have golfed with this guy at Lake Chabot. Drunk With Game would get the DTs if he did not have his aiming fluid. It's amazing how skilled he still is and can do things like reach par 5s in two.

Cigar Smoker: You are not cool. You just smell worse than ass.
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General Jack-Ass Category:

Play-By-Play Man: The chatterbox who offers running commentary on every shot, every lie, every club selection and every goddamn blade of grass on the course--whether you want to hear it or not. This is one tedious motherfucker. Shut up. I repeat, shut the fuck up.

The Bitcher--also known as the Course Snob: If the course is too wet, he complains. Sand not fluffy enough, he complains. This golfer tends to be a retired guy with money who plays a ton of resort and desert golf. He cannot grasp that a course where he just paid $28 for, including cart, might not be as nice as his club in Scottsdale. Hey, it's just golf so shut up and hit your 7-wood you old coot.

The Complainer--Cousin of the above but more blames the course for his shortcomings. How could putt not have dropped, how could that drive not have found the fairway, why did my ball not stay on the green, who put that tree there? He complains about everything but fails to admit his game just flat out sucks.

Paralysis by Analysis Dork -- Too cerebral for his own good. He will waggle, waggle and waggle some more. Sergio Garcia has nothing on this tedious fellow for grip, grip, grip, grip, grip....wait., grip, grip, check my stance, practice swing, grip, grip. Hit the fucking ball! You can line the ball up six ways to Sunday and you will still chunk it, hit it thin, spray it, etc. Stop reading and watching and listening to golf instruction. Golf is a game of imperfect so more play and less inner-debate, oakey dokey fella?

Slow Casual Golfer: Golfer does not play enough to understand simple courtesy aspects that speed along play, such as putting cart or clubs at back of green so that when you are done with the hole you can just speed onto the next one and let the group behind you hit without further delay. This same golfer has no idea about his own lack of skills and will be 225 yards out but will keep waiting to hit because he thinks he will hit into the group on the green. Hey sport, if you hit your 5 irons 155 yards and straight you should start dancing because no chance in hell you are reaching the green from that far out.

Equipment and Outfit Snob -- This player dresses to the nines, maybe even with a gay little belt that matches his shoes, has the Scotty Cameron putter and special covers for every single club in his $500 bag. He might even belong to a country club. But his money can't buy a golf swing and he still fucking sucks and always will. Find this guy and play him for money because he will tank. This guy might fool you at first with his look and mannerisms but he's a classic case of looks like Tarzan and hits like Jane.

Impatient Golfer--This is the asshole racing by you to get to the pro shop but then will hit into you if he has to wait more than 30 seconds. This golfer thinks there is always an opening somewhere if he can just find it. He will spend 25 minutes driving the cart all over the course to find one hole that he can have to himself.

Business Dork With Cell Phone - Society has progressed to the point where we tolerate cell phones more than we once did. Just don't bring one out on the golf course. Want to check your messages and return a call at the turn? Fine. You are not going to land the deal of the century taking calls on the course. Unless your woman is in labor or you have a family emergency, do not take calls during MY GOLF OUTING. Oh, and lose the Dockers.

Filthy Cheaters:

Mulligan Man -- We are playing a match. You play or practice three times a week and you want a mulligan? Fuck you. Have some pride and be a man.

Winter Rules in Summer: This cheat is always asking you if he can improve his lie because there is some alleged defect in the course.

Can't Count Dude -- The math-challenged golfer tends to blur his chips and putts. "No, I saw you. You lost one off the tee. Had an unplayable, were on in 5 and then 3-putted. And you want a 6? How the fuck do you figure that?" Bill Clinton was this type of guy.

I Want to Get Close To You -- Tough call here but why are you standing three feet from me in the T-box and standing in my back swing where ever I am on the course? Give me some space, chief.

Sentenced to a 14 to 15-handicap...

Hello,

You are reading this because you are bored and even worse an average golfer.

My story. I had some clubs as a kid but thought all the guys I knew who played golf in high shools were a bunch of stiffs in sweater vests. They went to college at places like Furman and aspired to play college golf. My greatest shot where I caddied once, Rolling Hills County Club in Wilton, Conn., was playing on caddy day and seeing a squirrel 40 yards away from me. I threw a golfball at it, nailed it on the head in one bounce and it was last seen twitching its way back into the woods. (I do feel badly, and I became an animal lover after the incident.)

Fast forward to the Northgate Golf Course outside of Reno about 11 years ago. I am about to play in a tournament against some fellow private investigators. Many of these guys are so fat they can barely get out of their Cadillacs. They were so fat that when they sat around the house, they sat around the house. They had more chins than a Chinese phone book. When they wore corduroy pants and walked, their thighs set off forest fires. I can't lose to these piles of goo. But lose I did. Ever since that day in the windswept parking lot I have been hooked on golf.

I like the game but can do without the pomp and nonsense that surrounds it. The worst are the hushed and reverential tones that TV saves for the tournaments. And now that we know Tiger likes to get his freak on like any pro baller why should these guys get special treatment.

I am about to turn 45 and bought new Mizuno Irons and a new Calloway Driver. I tend to shoot under 90 more than over 80. I love the Bay Area golf courses.

This blog will be about my rants and raves. My golf partners. My fist-pumping celebrations when I win $6 off the aging poetry professor, etc. My wife tunes out when I ramble on about golf so you will have to cope. Until next time, "Hit 'em straight."