First Cut: Any Way You Slice It
I’ve played with just about every type of golfer there is. I’m not talking ability level. I’m talking personality. And yes, some are much more enjoyable than others.
Which one are you?
TT not only talks incessantly, but makes sure they do not start their longest stories until it is their turn on the tee box as the group behind is putting out on the previous hole.
TT talks a lot, but doesn’t really have much to say. If you play with them regularly, chances are you have heard all their best material and now they are on “Round Two.” They act as if the story is much more interesting the second time around and, for some reason, they tend to take twice as long to tell it. This is when you whip out your portable speaker, ask their favorite Spotify station, crank up the tunes and pray there’s enough juice to get you through the rest of the round.
TT also may or may not spew oral mist as they pontificate. (They spit when they talk.) Social distancing and masks are quite welcome here.
Oh, the bragger. Every shot reminds them of “another” shot from their past that was simply magnificent. And of course your life is about to get that much better because you get to hear the play-by-play.
TB usually walks with a swagger that is often mistaken for someone staggering out of a bar, but nobody dares ask if “they are OK.”
TB is often considered to appear rather “unkempt,” but that just goes with their “aw-shucks-humble-boasting-but-I’m-awesome” demeanor.
TB also tends to wink often. Not sure why. They just do.
Just think “harmonica solo in the middle of a set from your favorite band at Coachella.” Moving on.
TV is the driver of the cart who only sees their golf ball. You constantly need to remind them that your ball is “over there” or they let you off at your ball and drive away before you can take your club out of your bag.
My bag is usually off the cart and on my back by about the fourth hole because I just can’t win with this one.
Pretty much like it sounds. TV blows up after just about every shot, never mind that the shot they are upset about is the best shot you have seen them hit in three years. They are never happy, yet not good enough to be that mad. Like a real volcano, they are a natural wonder.
SLOW PLAY VS. READY GOLF
SP is under the impression that they are the only ones on the golf course, and they treat it like it is their Green Mile. It’s almost like they are facing certain peril once they reach the 18th green. No judgment, but in my experience, I have found that these are usually the players who, after the round, are expected to head back to the office if time permits. So they make sure that time doesn’t … you know … permit.
Conversely, RG is so ready that they have usually holed out before you have even chipped onto the green. They are giving you 4-6 footers left and right and have teed off on the next hole before you have taken your driver out of your bag. Truth be told, they are my favorite. Love me some RG.
COMING IN HOT
That screech in the parking lot at 8:55 a.m.? It’s the player in your group who is always late … coming in hot for their 9 a.m. tee time.
CIH is changing their shoes in the golf cart while everyone else is teeing off. Their warm-up routine consists of eating their breakfast burrito in two bites. They are usually still swallowing that second bite somewhere in the backswing of their first tee shot, causing you to promptly do a mental checklist of everything you’ve ever learned about the Heimlich maneuver … just in case.
CIH’s mannerisms and pace are very quick and jerky, just like their golf swing. They whiz around the course and then take off immediately after the round, probably “coming in hot” to the next place they have to be.
EM has a vast array of excuses for every bad shot. They could hear you breathe. The maintenance worker started their mower in the middle of their backswing (only, they didn’t). The wind suddenly changed directions (yep, Mother Nature has it out for them). A piece of paper blew across the fairway and distracted them (three minutes before they actually started their backswing, but whatever). A song you hummed an hour ago is stuck in their head and it is messing with their tempo.
If you can stomach it, the only effective way to respond is to nod and say, “I understand. Yes, that is really a shame. But your swing looks good.” Trust me, it’s not easy. But it’s the least painful.
I think my all-time favorite is the person who says they “met-my-brother-just-ask-him-we-are-tight.” This is usually followed with, “Yeah. He calls me Big Guy.” Wink. Wink.
Finger guns are commonly pulled out about now. Only, “Big Guy” was Phil’s “safe word” for a long time … you know … what he would universally call someone when he didn’t know their name. Finger guns not included.