Golf -- supposedly -- is a game built on integrity, self-awareness, respect and honesty. Sometimes, however, those who play the game for fun occasionally manage to forget some of these ideals.
Regardless of how hard you try, you will, at some point, be one of the people listed below. Obviously, you don't ever want to be that person, but hey -- golf is tough. It's frustrating. You get into zones. On top of that, your life isn't on the Tour. You've got families and jobs and relationships and obligations that can distract or take away from your golf.
That all being said, you really don't want to be any of these when you're on the golf course:
Jack Nicklaus has said that when he was a kid, his father saw him throw a golf club -- once. It never happened again (well, that dear ol' dad saw, anyway) and Nicklaus went on to become the greatest golfer of all-time.
So what's the lesson here? Well, there's not one, really. Not throwing your clubs won't help or impede you from becoming one of the greatest golfers of all-time, but it will help you to remain a tolerable golfing companion and keep your name on the call list whenever your cronies are looking for a fourth.
Look, I understand the temptation to let that putter fly after another three-putt and release some of that pent up aggression. But as soon as you let go, you're going to feel embarrassed, your playing partners are going to feel embarrassed, and you're going to kill the vibe for the rest of the round. Oh yeah, and you might be a couple hundred dollars poorer depending on where that club ends up.
There's just something about the game of golf that makes us feel inadequate, and that's not something most of our fragile little psyches can handle. Because of this, we find every possible excuse in the book so as to pass off our terrible play as someone -- or something -- else's fault. It may not seem too annoying, but trust me and everyone you've ever been paired with: It. Is.
Look, we can make a pretty fair assessment of your game based on a few things. Golfers stereotype and make snap judgments just as bad as anyone else. If you've got clubs that were manufactured before World War II and you're wearing jeans, we aren't shocked you shot 56 on the front nine. You don't need to tell us you sprained your back or that you slept on the floor last night or it's 3 degrees below the optimal temperature and that's why your game isn't there today.
We don't buy it.
Ultimately, you're responsible for the swing you make. Sure, golf is full of bad bounces (and those excuses, we will accept in full, no judgement as long as the swing that produced it was sound) and tough lies, but trying to get me to believe the reason you're gonna shoot 110 today is because you bruised your wrist saving a cat from a tree? That's not going to fly.
One of the cardinal sins of is giving unsolicited advice. That's great that you picked up some new tip from a video on Instagram or Arnold Palmer's book or some random guy at the range; keep it to yourself. Everybody has their own swing and own journey through golf, and putting extra thoughts in their head during a round is only going to lead to overthinking.
Now if you're prompted with "what am I doing wrong?", then it's open season. I'll even allow for talking abstractly about how something you learned is helping you. But the second you start trying to fix someone's game without them asking, you're opening yourself up to never getting another invite.
When you're an amateur, every putt is important, but there's no reason for you to look at a putt from 27 angles, go back and look from sides you already looked at, mark and remark your golf ball and generally waste time. The putt is important, but it's not that important.
Do yourself and everyone around you a favor: stop, look around, gain some self-awareness and just roll the rock. Odds are, you'll make a better putt than you would if you over-thought it for seven minutes.
"Ohh, good swing," the overzealous stranger says as you majestically high drive gets caught up in a gust from the gods and lands three yards short of the green, plugging deep in the face of the bunker.
When it comes to talking to the golf balls of your competitors or passing out compliments, it's probably best to play things close to the vest. If you're going to dish out some praise, make sure the result is praise-worthy before you launch into worship.
If you hit your tee shot into the woods, hit a second tee shot, hit your approach into the left bunker, take three to get out of it and then three putt and tell me, "I saved bogey," then you're one of two things: Stupid or a liar.
Please, don't be this person. While it doesn't really affect the people you're playing with from a playing standpoint, we are judging you more harshly than anything Judge Judy could dish out. You are a pariah if you lie about your score, whether or not you found your ball, etc.
At the end of the day, people will be more apt to play with you if you're honest about your 102 than if you fabricate your way around the course and report you shot 89.
Have you ever heard the term, "better safe than sorry?" Well, that applies to the golf course, too.
Look, no one expects amateurs to hit the fairway every time. No one expects anyone to be a pro if they're playing at their local municipal golf courses -- but they do expect people to give a heads up when they might be putting you in danger.
Enter the person who is afraid to yell fore. If you hit your ball even remotely close to a group of fellow golfers and don't yell fore, you deserve every dirty look, every parking lot stare-down and every brutal, condescending question you're inevitably going to get from the group you hit into.
Like opening a door or picking up some litter, stop and think how much extra effort it takes to yell "fore." Is it really worth the risk of not yelling it?
I've got to admit: if I fall into any of these buckets, it's self-loathing type. I know it's wrong, but I have a hard time not beating myself up over a round of golf. Blame it on an inappropriate amount of my self-worth being tied to my performance on the course or the fact that I have high expectations, but I tend to yell at myself a lot.
Please -- don't do this. It's not worth it. It's just a game. Unless you're not going to be able to food on the table because you stumbled around the golf course, then you can't yell at yourself. If you're not playing every single day, you can't yell at yourself. Just keep calm and grind on -- eventually, your game will come back to you if you don't get into a mental space where you're beating yourself up.
Oh, and it's really, really inconsiderate to your playing partners. They don't need to hear it, either.
Dig this scenario: You and your buddy get paired with a single on a busy Saturday afternoon at your local course. Somewhere shortly before the turn, the beer cart drives up and you buy a round. Soon after the turn, it appear again and your buddy buys a round. Then around the 14th hole, it rolls up for the last time. The guy you're paired, however, buys his beer and snubs you and your buddy -- despite the fact that you've purchased two beers for him.
Seriously, who is this monster? If you're willing to take a beer from a stranger, you'd better be ready to reciprocate. The world works a lot better when you do. If you can't afford to, make sure you let the guy or guys buying that you can't swing it. If they still decided to hook you up, good for you. If not, at least you didn't snake two beers from these guys for nothing.
Because, really, that's not cool.
Sure, it can be fun to play a casual round with friends, but generally golf is more fun when there's something on the line, whether that be in a tournament or a skins game with your group. It can sometimes be difficult to play something competitively if all the players aren't around the same skill level, but in golf, there's the World Handicap System that helps solve for this.
In order for that to happen, though, you need two things: 1) you need everyone in the group to keep their Handicap Index, and 2) you need everyone to be honest about what their Handicap Index actually is.
So when you roll up to the first tee box and your buddies want to get a game going, not knowing your Handicap Index is going to derail that conversation pretty quickly. And no, saying "I usually shoot in the 90s" isn't going to cut it.
Thankfully, while most of the people on this list require some introspection and attitude adjustments, this one has a simple fix.