By Mark Patterson
Golf has long considered itself some pastoral bastion of honor. Players embrace nature while meticulously counting their own strokes, penalize themselves for otherwise unseen infractions, and supposedly practice the sort of poised, considerate conduct that does the ancient game proud. There’s no running or razzing in golf. But while I’d hate to break this to the 15th century Scotsmen who thought up the sport, their outdated customs and policies could use a few tweaks. Sadly, if the intervening 600 years have established anything, it’s that unchecked testosterone, fermented beverage, and hunks of iron attached to long sticks do not promote the sort of cultured behavior those sportsmanlike sheep -herders were shooting for.
Thus, respectfully, and in no particular order, I submit these as sins of golf etiquette. And may “Old Tom Morris,” the first bagpipe wielder to slap rocks around a pasture and call it par, not role over in his divoted (and well fertilized) grave.
**No player having failed to shoot par during the given season shall whine, complain, or otherwise bemoan the effects of wind, drought, rain, or course conditions on his score. (The problem is your game, duffer, not the elements.)
**No player having struck an errant shot shall deflect deserved embarrassment by likening said shot to that of a fellow competitor as in : “Oh, gee. Now my ball’s in the sand trap with YOURS.” (Misery DOES love company-especially on the golf course.)
**No player whose shot strikes any part of a tree shall proclaim said shot as potentially successful in the imaginary absence of said vegetation. (Yeah, sure. It was tracking straight for the cup.)
**No player amidst a pending score not under par shall presume to coach, instruct, or in any manner advise a fellow competitor. (And should self-appointed teacher spew forth the tired, debunked adage about “keeping your head down,” he shall forthwith plunge into the nearest water hazard, while whooping and attempting a cannonball.)
**No player duffing, topping, shanking, or completely whiffing a shot shall so much as imply that any other result might reasonably be expected when said player strikes a golf ball. (You’re a hacker and that duck-hook IS your typical shot. Own it.)
* *Any player outclassed by the rest of his grouping MUST try to compensate by employing a foot-wedge from behind trees, “forgetting” to count all strokes, and miraculously locating his lost ball smack dab in the middle of the fairway. (Hey, you owe fellow players a competitive game. Right?)
**No player having failed to break 80 on today’s course shall stoop down to read putts, engage in multiple practice swings, or in any way impinge on the time of real golfers. (Here’s a suggestion: Stop watching The Masters-and syncing pace of play with the halting commentary of that tiny Jim Nance in your head.)
**Any player wearing a large Panama Hat shall suffer a two-stroke penalty before so much as teeing off. (You look ridiculous. Really.)
**Any player showing up late shall stand responsible for the greens fees of each member in his grouping. (We know you were hoping somebody had picked up YOUR tab.)
**No defeated player shall impugn the winner’s effort by proclaiming that “We all played poorly today.” (Maybe we did, But you played a bit worse. Didn’t you, loser?)
**No player missing a putt of less than 4 feet shall ever, in any circumstance, attribute said miss to having “misread” the green. (It’s not the slope, my friend. It’s your stroke. You look like an orangutang swatting bees .)
* *No player shall utter so much as one syllable in attempting to address another’s ball. For example: “Get left,” or “Get legs,” or “Whoaa.” (We know you’re just drawing attention to your pal’s poor shot. Talk to your own shanked Titleist.)
**No player having struck an errant shot shall in any instance blame said shot on club selection. (Believe me, your problem is the operator, not the tool.)
Quick disclaimer from the editors: We happen to know that Mark Patterson secretly envies the Panama Hat look. They just don’t come big enough for his melon.
Special note: The author thanks his golf pal, Chris Fabbro, for inspiring the advent of these proposed policies
