Golf: It's a Family Affair

A conversation with my playing partners during a recent Pro-Am revealed some interesting similarities in the way we all view the relationships we share with our golf clubs.  It got me thinking.  If our golf clubs are a family, then what stereotypical family member roles most accurately describe each club?  Here’s what I think:

It all starts at the top with the Driver.  The Big Dog.  Chief.  It’s the Dad of the bag.  The head of your golf-gear household.  When Driver is happy, productive and in command, everyone else seems to work together more harmoniously. 

But when Driver is cranky, hungry, over-worked or stubborn, then watch out – it’s likely going to be a really long day.  You might even get smacked upside the head a time or two.  In some extreme cases, you can make do without a Driver/Dad – it just puts more pressure on the rest of the family. 

The truth is that at the core of the game, at golf’s most basic level, enjoyment is derived from hitting the snot out of the ball.  Perhaps it’s an innate reminder of our hunter/gatherer days, and the ball in flight is reminiscent of a stick or stone on its way to bringing down our next meal.  Maybe it’s the human desire to fly.  Maybe it’s just so much fun to hit something farther than we can throw it.  Who knows? 

I do know this.  I’d much rather pummel the ball off the tee for eighteen holes, miss a few greens, putt like a hack, and shoot a mediocre score, maybe a few strokes over par, than I would rather scrape, clank and fight with driver all day and grind like a gear-shifter around the greens to salvage a decent score of even par or better.  Golf is simply just more enjoyable when Dad’s happy and I hit the Driver well, regardless of my final score. 

The long and short of the golf family is this, if Driver is the Dad, then your wedges are the Mother.  Mommy Wedges is the glue that holds everything together.  She’s calm, consistent and dependable – a soft place to land after a missed shot or a long day. 

She cleans up our messes, keeps things tidy, and maybe most importantly, puts food on the table.  (Any professional golfer will tell you that their money is made from 100 yards and in.)  Mommy Wedges can be boring at times, but that’s just the way we like her, no, rely on her, to be. 

Have you ever noticed that your Wedges and Putter don’t always get along?  That’s because the Putter is like a Girlfriend, and she’ll never finish things exactly the way you’re your Mom wants her to.  The Putter is the girl you’ve been dating for years and years, but just can’t make a long-term commitment to. 

You can date her, you might even love her (for awhile), and you’ll take her proudly on your arm to even the most important public appearance, but if she gets a little crazy from time to time, or three-putts the eighteenth green in an important money-match, you can leave her in an instant.  No regrets.

Sometimes the only way to get your Putter to work harder is to make her jealous.  If you’re committed, you’d be considered a cheat.  And you’re not a cheat.  You might get an itch to look for something new – at the bar down the street, or on the rack at the local golf shop. 

Go ahead, scratch it.  There’s no need to feel guilty.  Take a New Putter off the rack.  Hold her in your calloused hands.  Feel her grip.  Take her on a date.  Maybe to the putting green.  Maybe to the course.  Buy her a drink.  Whisper in her ear.  Dance with her.  See if she’s easier to line up than what you’re used to.  See if you can scoop up a ball off the ground with the back of her blade more easily than with your Current Putter. 

Once you can convince your Current Putter that you’re honestly considering another, she just might start making more putts for you.  If not, then the break-up can be made official by simply stripping off the New Putter’s… price tag. 

Keep your Old Putter’s number in the little black book though.  She’ll likely be back again some day – because over time, the grass is rarely greener.  After all, you did bring you with you into this new relationship.  What did you expect?  Who knows, someday you might run into your Old Putter in the dusty corner of the garage, your locker or the trunk, and remember how much fun she was to stroke in the first place.

Your 3-Wood is like your goofy, crazy, fun Uncle.  Everybody loves it when he’s hanging around.  He’s fairly reliable, especially when he’s on.  But when he’s bad, he’s rotten.  Just watch a Raiders game with him, or get a few too many drinks in him, or both, and like his political views, it doesn’t take long for things to go left.  Hard left.  Hooked through the trees, out of bounds, over the fence, off the neighbor’s roof and into the pool, left. 

Sometimes when he’s bad it’s the topped-roller, the thinned-bullet, or the dreaded fat-stab.  But usually, just like every good player I know, when Crazy Uncle 3-Wood comes to town, you have to fear a hook.

This makes 5-Wood like your favorite Aunt.  Everybody loves to hit their Auntie 5-Wood.  She’s easy, fearless, flies high, lands soft, and does so with remarkable consistency every time.  Just not everybody makes the decision to carry one.  I don’t know why.  It’s just not cool, or masculine, I guess.  She’s into art, not sports. 

Sure, Auntie 5-Wood might forget to shave her legs or wear a little too much jewelry, perfume and lipstick.  She might even slide off to the side of the house when no one is looking and sneak a little smoke.  You can smell it on her breath and hear it in her voice.  But at the end of the day, she’s by far the most laid back and easiest going member of the bunch.  She’s everyone’s favorite club, but not everyone likes to admit it.

The Long Irons (3-6 irons) are like your Big Brother.  Not the Little-Big Brother who’s only a year or two older than you, because in a scrap you might be able to give him a good fight.  I mean the Big-Big Brother who’s several years older than you.  He was off to college while you were still in braces. 

You learned most of the facts of life from eavesdropping on his phone calls.  He’s tough on you.  He’ll hold you down and put a hurt on you in a second.  But somehow, he’s tough in a way that you really like, because some attention, even if it hurts, is better than none.   

Similarly, the Long Irons will beat you up from time to time.  But when they’re good, they’re oh so sweet.  It’s this knowledge that creates respect.  Respect and fear.  It’s not uncommon for the Long Irons hurt your game more than they help. 

But you have to hit them.  They’re unavoidable – like on a long par three.  You’ll look like a sissy if you feather a 5-Wood.  The shot calls for 3-Iron, and that’s what you’ve got to hit or you’ll look weak.  At least go down swinging – just like with Big Bro.  You’ll earn more respect if you fight back by knocking it stiff from 235 yards.  Land at least one shot he’ll remember.  When you do, it makes all the wedgies, noogies, finger pokes in the sternum, and scissor leg-locks worthwhile.

Finally, the group that seems to get the least attention, your Scoring Clubs (7 Iron-PW), are not surprisingly reminiscent of another oft neglected, yet lovable member of the clan, the Family Dog.

The Family Dog is loyal.  He can usually be found on the front porch, happy to see you at the end of a long day, no matter what you’ve done and no matter how long it’s been since you’ve given him your full attention.  There he is, tail wagging, right at your heels.  Go on, take him for a walk, or to the practice range.  Play fetch.  Scratch him behind the ear.  Give him a bath.  No one likes a smelly dog, or a dirty club.  Every now and then, take him to the vet or give him a thorough grooming. 

In the case of your Scoring Clubs, consider a proper grooming to be replacing his old worn-out grips, or at least, observe the age-old golf trip tradition of cleaning his grips with a hot, wet, white hotel towel.  (Keep the towel, of course.)   

Like a Dog on a leash, you need to know exactly how far each of the Scoring Clubs can go.  This is critical information, and by far the most important variable of the equation.  If unchecked, your Scoring Clubs might even try to dig a hole or jump the fence to escape the yard.  Hence the term ‘unleashed’ is often used to describe a ball that’s pounded to a distance beyond what was expected. 

With the Scoring Clubs, you simply can’t afford to let that happen.  It’s with them that birdies are made (although Driver and Putter tend to take all the credit), and to do so more frequently, he must be kept on a tight leash – and you must consistently hit the ball to pin-high.

As you can clearly see, golf is a family affair, and paying special attention to the unique relationships that you have with each club can reap immediate and long term rewards.  Once you’ve identified the characters at the table, or in the bag, you can work to nurture those relationships and build a better game.