GolfStinks

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The PGA, WWE or A Three Ring Circus?

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Every so often I like to check in and see what is going on in the professional world of golf. It never ceases to amaze me the crap that actually happens. I get the feeling the PGA operates in a world of it’s own. I know, I know…sad.


Let’s start with Mr. Steve Williams. If you haven’t been following, Tiger’s ex-caddie blurted out a comment about his former boss at a recent caddies’ awards party. The comment might have been considered a racist slur but Woods confirmed Williams is not a racist. The part I find amazing is there’s actually a caddies’ awards party…interesting.

If it was baseball, basketball or football, forget it; the media coverage would rival that of the Kardashian wedding. The feds would have gotten involved and there would have been a hearing or two. Since it’s the PGA, the two spoke, shook hands and are moving forward like nothing happened.

Here’s what I think: This boisterous caddie loved the attention he was getting with Tiger. Now that it’s gone, he pulls this crap to be back in the spotlight. I don’t know about you but I foresee Williams being a candidate for another award…Jack Ass Of The Year. Let’s have a party for that.

Speaking of awards, the PGA has also decided to not award a 2011 Comeback Player Of The Year. Are they saving it for Tiger? Come on, there isn’t one person on the tour that can be a possible candidate? If I followed the tour I’m sure I could nominate someone. I find it hard to believe not one golfer on the tour deserves this.

What the heck is going on? I understand that this is not a prestigious award but I’m sure it will mean a lot to someone who busted their ass to make a comeback. No? So, what you are saying is that every pro golfer on the tour did exactly the same. I don’t get it…this is why I only check in every so often.

Hit’em long…yell FORE!!! Keep it real.

Ladies, Let Your Man Golf!

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Oh My God!! I’ve had enough! If someone doesn’t take my husband golfing soon I’m going to have a conniption!

This is Jenn, aka Mrs. Stinky Golfer Chris. I’m taking over his post to plead for anyone to step forward and get my husband on a golf course. Better yet, take him on a golf trip! All year I’ve had to listen to him complain about how he hasn’t had the chance to golf much this year. And with the recent snow storm here in the northeast, it’s been even worse!

Granted, for the most part he didn’t get to play as much as he normally would. It was just one of those years. It seemed like every weekend there was simply something that needed to be done. Be it a kids soccer game, baseball game, someones birthday party, family gathering or my photography business…something was always getting in his way.

But if that wasn’t bad enough, we have a freak, record-setting snowstorm in October, normally his last month to guarantee golf. November is always hit or miss. And this November, between my trip back home to visit family in Colorado, the clean up of downed branches and power outages due to the storm, we’re not off to a good start.

He keeps talking about a couple of newly public courses that he wanted to get to this year. He’s also mentioned how it’s been a few years since his last golf trip. Are there any other golf wives dealing with this?

Being that I work in the golf industry, I’m well aware that many golf courses are in some financial trouble. I’m also well aware that not as many people are playing golf as in previous years. It’s one of the reasons my husband and his stinky golfer buddies are doing what they’re doing. So with that being said, I can’t imagine I’m the only golf wife who has to listen to their husband complaining.

So ladies, for the sake of your husband as well as your own sanity, don’t keep your husband away from the game he loves. Get him out there. Make him go play. Tell him to take a golf trip. Or else you have to go through the winter months listening to him complain. And what’s worse? Having him disappear for a few hours every weekend or so? Or listening to him whine like a little girl all winter long?

Ladies, let your husband swing ’til he’s happy!

What’s Your Most Interesting Golf Story?

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One of your golf bio questions on Golfstinks.com (yes, you have your own golf bio when you become a member) is “what’s your most interesting golf experience.” Well, we’ve been getting some pretty good stories from the members thus far and wanted to open this up to our blog community too.

Let me break the ice by telling my very true tale…

It was the Friday of Memorial Day weekend 2001. A few friends of mine (one of which would later be known as Stinky Golfer Chris) were on a puddle jumper going from Charlotte to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. The plan was as follows: Land. Play 18-holes. Eat. Sleep. Play 36-holes. Eat. Sleep. Play 9-holes. Fly back to Connecticut so we could get a good night’s sleep before work on Monday (as you could see, there really wasn’t much time to spare).

So we landed. We played 18-holes at Shipyard Golf Club and since not many people were out on the course that day, we actually finished our round earlier than expected. With daylight to spare, we headed back to the oceanfront condo (Stinky Golfer Chris’ rich uncle let us crash at his summer place) to do a little boogie-boarding before dinner.

So there we were – our foursome splashing and playing in the surf like 6-year-olds – when a wave knocked me off my boogie-board and I fell backwards into the water. I was close to the beach and the water was only about three feet deep. My right hand found the sandy bottom and then it happened – a sharp stabbing pain between my thumb and index finger.

At first, I had no idea what hit me. But I was bleeding from a half-inch gash on top of my hand which seemed to be pretty deep. The pain was pretty bad too. On top of the cut itself hurting, the salt water was making matters worse.

My initial thought was I hit a sharp rock, or perhaps a crab pinched me. But then I felt it – a sting ray brushed by my leg and I was fairly certain that’s what got me. “Oh God, aren’t those things poisonous?” I thought to myself. It’s a good thing the Steve Irwin incident hadn’t happened yet otherwise I would have been freaking out.

By now I was trudging to the beach as fast as I could, worried that my bleeding hand was chumming the water for Great Whites. Despite screaming “AHHHH” when it first happened, none of my foursome seemed particularly concerned about the Jaws scene unfolding in front of them. I distinctly remember one of them still laying out on a beach chair when I pulled myself ashore.

By now it was dinner time, and that (not my throbbing and still bleeding) hand seemed to be the priority. “Sure, I’ll man-up and go to dinner with you guys. Let me just ice-it, wrap-it and we can go” I told them. And that’s what I did. Iced it for about 15 minutes, wrapped it in some gauze (still bleeding, and now slightly discolored in a purplish hue) and off we went to the Outback Steakhouse.

Towards the end of dinner, I announced the pain wasn’t letting up any. I could tell this annoyed them as they had their hearts set on a few more Foster’s before heading home. But when I showed them it was still bleeding – 3 hours later, I think they finally realized they needed to deal with my bitching.

So off to the emergency room we went, where I explained to the nurse what happened. She took one look and exclaimed, “Yep, that was a Stingy. Basically you have two choices. You can stay here and we’ll admit you overnight or you can go home and submerge it in hot water.”

Hot water? I was icing the freaking thing! Turns out hot water (as hot as you can stand it) draws the toxin out (which from the sting ray, by the way, is not fatal – Mr. Irwin died because it stung him in the heart). In addition to the hot water, I needed to visit a medical center the next day to have a doctor see if I needed stitches or antibiotics or both. Crap – there goes one of our tee-times.

The guys were cool though – they came to the doctor’s with me (we missed our morning round) and fortunately, I didn’t need stitches (I did get antibiotics though). Even better, since it was on the top of my hand, it didn’t interfere with my swing! We finished our stay on Hilton Head playing at the beautiful Palmetto Dunes and even more alluring Sea Pines.

A decade later I still have the scar, and the skin around it is still slightly discolored. But, a few years ago, I was at a restaurant that had sting ray on the menu…revenge never tasted so good.

So, what’s your story?

Golf, A Blessing In Disguise.

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Golf is difficult, we know this, but that is also relative. I’m sure we can agree waiting in line at the DMV is difficult too, no? But given the choice, we would rather be golfing. As hard a game or sport it might be, we want to play it no matter how our previous round went. How lucky are we to have that privilege?

Every so often something is introduced to me and it resonates within. Thanks to our buddy Kevin over at L2 Communications for providing the following video. It’s amazing! The very first few words, “Golf is hard” uttered by Sgt. Russell Logan sets the tone.

Mind you, this is coming from someone who lost a leg to an explosion while serving in Afghanistan. So, relatively speaking, how hard is golf? Better yet, how modest is this man, hero and golfer? To be exposed to war and all its horror is difficult. To live through and overcome a traumatic experience in a war zone is even more difficult. To hear the words “golf is hard” come out of his mouth, that’s a blessing…

Hit’em long…Yell FORE!!!

Did Golf Ignite America’s Thirst for Scotch?

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So here’s what we know about golf’s history in the United States: Golf was introduced at the end of the 18th-century and it took nearly 100 years to really catch-on here in America. In the mid-1890’s, golf courses began springing up and the USGA (known at the time as the Amateur Golf Association of the United States) was created.

But, there’s a part of golf’s U.S. history that is rather intriguing; as golf became popular here in the States, so did, coincidentally, the consumption of Scotch Whisky. This parallel was first introduced to me through a book I’m currently reading called “And a Bottle of Rum.“ While the book’s main focus is on rum’s history in the New World, there’s a point where the author writes the following:

“Scotch, brought into fashion by the golf craze that swept the nation in the 1890’s, began its decades-long fling with popularity.”

That statement immediately had me searching the internet for answers. I wanted to learn more about golf’s influence on Scotch drinking in the U.S. Unfortunately, there’s not much to be had about that on the information super highway.

I was able to find the following excerpt from a book published in 1902:

“Some say that it [Scotch Whisky] came into fashion with golf, others that the increase is due to the recommendations of doctors, or that the habit was introduced by travelers from the United Kingdom.”

Interestingly, the book the previous excerpt came from was a 1901 British consular report on trade and commerce for San Francisco, but says nothing more regarding golf’s influence on Scotch here in America.

Oh, there are plenty of things on the net about Scotch and golf (like this piece on pgatour.com and this from the Travelstart Blog). And there’s even mention of golf being a “gentleman’s game” and Scotch being a “gentleman’s drink.” In fact, here’s a quote from a site called The Gentleman Blog where they recommend taking a moment at the end of your swing to enjoy what golf has to offer:

“…a good follow through is needed so that you can have that solitary moment where you take in the beauty of the course and the serenity that comes with golf (this is before you get angry at how terribly you sliced the ball). It’s this moment that makes golf worthwhile. It’s the moment where you are at one with the club, the course and that hip-flask of Scotch in your breast pocket.”

So sure, golf and Scotch seem to go hand-in-hand. But as for answers on how Scotch became all the rage in the United States, I found very little. Perhaps the author of “And a Bottle of Rum” got his information from the 1901 British consular report? It’s all a bit of a mystery. Of course, it probably doesn’t really matter. All that matters is what we do know:

“We borrowed golf from Scotland as we borrowed whiskey. Not because it is Scottish, but because it is good.” – Horace Hutchinson; English golfer, sportsman, and writer.

Enjoy.

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