The Par 3: Random golf thoughts
Some quick musings on my own golf game and what's going on with the PGA Tour.
I’ve been thinking a lot about something Shane Ryan, one of the best golf writers, recently wrote for Golf Digest. It’s stayed with me as I’ve been making my return to the world of golf. Here’s his main point and what I’ve been mulling over:
It's become my habit to try to sneak in nine holes either at lunchtime or after work this summer, and I always play at the public course three minutes from my house. I love this course, and I love all the people working there, but I had an experience this past week that seems to happen more often every year, and I'm sure it's happening everywhere. Fair warning, this will make me sound like a snob, and I own that, but this is the kind of shit that deflates me: You're watching the group in front of you tee off on one, and four people in succession take these unbelievably tragic swings that produce a 30-yard slice, a hook, or some other disastrous result so rare and ugly that it doesn't yet have a name.
[…]
What are these people getting out of this experience? If you can't break 130, is it really fun to play golf? Like, at all? Is there any kind of enjoyment in just slapping shots into hazards for four and a half hours? I mean, most of these people aren't even drinking! They're stone-cold sober just chunking shot after shot! How is this not just a death slog?
I found myself returning to this because… well, I’m kind of one of those people he’s talking about. Right now at least, my scores on 18 are quite high. I’ve got a lot in common with those people making Shane Ryan so frustrated. And thus, as I’m knocking my ball around the course for my inflated score, I wonder… should I be out there? Should I feel bad about this?
I can justify myself being out there for a few different reasons—I’ve played before (and taken lessons so I somewhat know what I’m doing), I play pretty fast (that’s usually my modus operandi, to go as fast as I reasonably can so I don’t hold other people up), and I’ve spent some time at the range practicing before I’ve been going out on the course.
Ultimately, that’s what gets me out there—I’ve spent that time on the range and there’s only so much you can do there before you need to get out on the course. I’m not going to the driving range to practice going to the driving range; I’m going to the range to practice to play golf. If there was an intermediate space, like a course you play but it’s essentially a driving range/place to practice, I’d be there pretty much all the time.
As I get back into the sport it’s not always “fun” and there can be some really rough stretches. But it’s something I want to figure out and that’s the only way to figure it out. Those times when I do get it figured out are profoundly satisfying. And yes, they are fleeting, but I wouldn’t trade those moments in for anything.
Shane Ryan’s piece stayed with me and…. I don’t want to say upset me, but didn’t sit right. I’ll still be going out on the course, working to improve and shoot lower, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that (provided I’m not slowing down other players too badly or things of that nature).
Yes, we are talking about the playoffs
There was a lot of consternation with the end of the PGA Tour season, the FedEx Cup/playoffs, and the Tour Championship event, all of which was won by the golfer playing the best this year (and, I’m obliged to mention, University of Texas alum) Scottie Scheffler, with seeding and scores in part determined by prior performance. It was boring, the scoring system was strange and hard to understand, it was anticlimactic, etc etc… The different complaints and issues could be made up to form its own post. Much metaphorical ink and podcast time has been spent kvetching about this. Most people were not a fan of any part of this endeavor.
What I found myself thinking about in regards to all this it’s so silly that there’s even a “playoff” in golf? The sport, as a spectator sport, does not lend itself to the kinds of playoffs and structures we see in the major team sports. I know there are other things in play, namely corporate sponsors of these events looking to make money by having them and making them as important as possible/to get TV ratings… I know that there are these other elements and factors in play that don’t make this a simple question to answer.
But I find myself thinking… golf just doesn’t lend itself to that structure. You have your four majors, the slightly elevated events, and then your more “everyday” events. But there’s no way to turn that into something as concrete as like the playoffs you see in other sports. It’s more like pre-BCS college football (which, honestly, I enjoyed more). You tried to win your conference and get to a bowl game, but that was as much as you could control. There was no playoff, no Mythical National Championship. The same thing goes with golf—you try to win Majors and the slightly elevated/what we would now call Signature events in addition to the more workmanlike ones and at the end maybe you can claim that you “won” the year in golf. Forcing this playoff paradigm onto this sport is just silly, in my humble opinion at least.
Who are we watching?
Something else I was thinking about, and I know it’s something those people who are concerned with such things are wrestling with, was if we care (and know) about professional golfers anymore? As someone who came of age during the Tiger Woods peak, when it felt like golf and golfers were a central concern, there seems to be a disconnect. I’m perhaps a little more interested and, because I’ve been affiliated with schools that has produced many great golfers that I can be interested in (obviously my beloved University of Texas, but also Wake Forest and Florida State). But… how far have we gotten away from those days when Tiger and Phil Mickelson were major sports figures?
I do think and hope Full Swing helps to bridge some of this gap. I also know I’m not exactly breaking new ground here (advertisers and executives have been worrying about the post-Tiger golf world… probably as soon as Tiger started dominating). But there are great players out there! Scottie, Xander Schauffele, Brooks Kopeka (admittedly on the super-problematic LIV tour), Rory McIlroy… just to name a few. But, does anyone really care? And what can bridge that gap? And is that why we’re having all this consternation about the Tour Championship—because there isn’t this singular figure to focus on?