We here at GolfStinks always joke about some of the characters on the golf course, but because we tend to play together, times are few and far between that we actually get paired up with them. But this past weekend, I went out for a nine-hole round with a fellow stinky golfer. And sure enough, we joined up for a few holes with Mr. Grumpy “Rules-Guru” Golfer. Though it lasted only three holes, it was quite the experience.
We start out playing only as a twosome, and that continued through six holes before we caught up with the twosome in front of us. Under a bit of pressure from the group behind us, we ask to join them, although it did seem as if they were not too happy about our request. What we were in store for was quite the surprise.
It started on the seventh hole when we joined an older gentleman playing with his daughter. This particular gentleman seemed annoyed that we were trying to join him, and had no interest at all in even speaking to us. This was a complete one-eighty from the friendly nature of most golfers we encounter. It wasn’t until walking off the seventh green that he even uttered a word to us, and even that seemed at the behest of his daughter.
The eight hole continued the same until, while on the eighth green, Mr. Grumpypants scolded my playing partner when he attempted to tend the pin. I didn’t notice the situation as I was walking to my ball, but I heard him mutter something about a two-stroke penalty and knowing the rules of golf. At this point, I wanted to (but didn’t) tell this guy “Look, this is a $20 nine-hole course. No one out here right now is a stickler for the rules…only you. Further, everyone else out on this course is here for fun…except you.”
The ninth hole continued and ended without a word. The only time we were acknowledged was when my playing partner found the grumps ball under a tree. Barely a “thank you wave” was given. My partner tried to make a polite joke about moving the ball out from under the tree…which of course went without even a smirk. And in true gentleman golfer fashion, after Captain Crabby sank his last putt, he hurried away without a hand-shake, a word, tip of his hat or any acknowledgement whatsoever. At least his daughter was polite enough to, almost apologetically, wish us a good day before she went to meet him.
Until this day, we’ve had the pleasure of being paired up with many different types of golfers. Male and female. Good players and well, not-so-good. Those who looked the part and didn’t play it. Those who looked to be with the tennis shoe crowd but played like they could attempt qualifying for a tour. But never with a golfer who just flat-out wanted nothing to do with us. It was certainly an experience, but one I hope not to repeat.
Swing ’til you’re happy!