Bad Golfers Take Time Out For Fun

We're so bad at golf, we need timeouts here and there to kick back and have fun. If we didn't take time to laugh, we'd go insane...or, we'd keep playing golf and actually improve.

Yeah, that's probably another of my many "reasons you're a bad golfer" right there: you take time out for fun. Professional golfers don't do this. It could be because they have too much money at stake. Or maybe they're perfectionists who practice all the time. Perhaps they just hate fun and have giant, pokey sticks up their butts. It could be any of these reasons (though we all know it's the latter), but the point is that professional golfers have lost their sense of fun.

To them, it's all business.

And I think that's really sad. They've lost their way. They're uptight, haughty, and anti-fun. I suppose you could make an argument that John Daly's self-destructive lifestyle of booze, betting, and women is an attempt at having fun (though really...it's his way of crying for help, now isn't it? Help finding women who love fat gambling golfers). But even if we accept that Daly knows how to have fun...we have to remember that he's already been classified as a Bad Golfer. So he just proves the rule even more.

Bad Golfers take time out for fun. Good golfers are so serious about the game that they get mad at you for laughing during their backswing.

Now...since we've drawn the line yet again between us and the pros...and we're reveling in the fact that we know how to have a good time...let's look at some funny golf-related clips from YouTube and cackle and guffaw while the pros are all out on the driving range hitting their 500th 6-iron shot.








Well, I hope that was a good few laughs for you. Remember...if you can't laugh at yourself...laugh at your buddy. Just make sure to laugh at something.

The BGA 12 Steps

1. We admitted we were powerless over golf—that our golf games had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves—namely the golf gods--could restore our golf games to their prior glory.
3. Made a decision to turn our golf games—and all golf-related wagers—over to the golf gods… as we understood them.
4. Made a token and half-hearted moral inventory of ourselves, and found ourselves to be awesome no matter what our score.
5. Admitted to the golf gods, to ourselves, and to our playing partners the exact nature of our mediocrity, and embraced it.
6. Were entirely ready to continue to plunk down large chunks of cash for the privilege of taking 112 or more strokes per round.
7. Humbly asked the golf gods to please-for-the-love-of-all-things-holy just give us one good shot per round.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, including those for whom we forgot to yell “Fore!” and became willing to make amends to them all in the form of beer, hot dogs, or other post-round snack bar item.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would cause injury to ourselves in the form of us getting our butts kicked by the guys we kept hitting into all day long.
10. Continued to take inventory of others in our foursome, harping on their golf game’s shortcomings despite the overwhelming evidence on the scorecard that we don’t have any idea what we’re talking about.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our contact with the golf gods as we understood them, praying only for birdies, eagles, holes-in-one, and other shots not possible with our own power and skill level.
12. Having had a spiritual golf awakening, as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to bad golfers everywhere, and to practice these principles in all our rounds of golf, so that all bad golfers may embrace their mediocrity and begin enjoying golf again.