Work has kept me away from updating my blog for the last two weeks- I played a desultory round two weeks ago at UMD golf course where I couldn’t have made a putt if my life depended on it.  Last Saturday I played at Rattlewood with some locals; enjoyed their company and turned in a very pleasant 80.

The Rattlewood round was played with a foursome; we got around in a shade over 3 1/2 hours despite waiting for the foursome in front of us (all walking) on several holes.  Which leads me to today’s episode of “Slow Play and You- when forces combine to make the 5 hour round a living, breathing thing!”

Two things you’re noticing if you’re playing (or two things to take note of if you’re not)- several courses have punched their greens (it must be real difficult to let people know- if only there was some kind of mechanism to broadcast this information), and the lack of rain over the last several weeks means that the lush, thick rough we were all hacking our way out of back in June is now brown, thin, and going dormant.

Today’s episode takes place at Northwest Park Golf Course.  Let’s follow along step-by-step on how you, too, can make slow play a real thing and happen at your golf course too!

1) Accept and allow people to book tee times prior to sunrise.  So if the sun comes up at, say, 6:30, book that first time at 6:20.  Be sure to have several people in this first time who are unwilling to hit that first shot until the light is to their liking.

I can see the fairway and the sprinklers. Good to go.

I can see the fairway and the sprinklers. Good to go.

2) Have the starter show up late and spend several minutes taking care of stuff that has nothing to do with getting golfers on the golf course.  Said starter being a stickler for “enforcing rules” will be even better!

3) Always put out three walkers who aren’t exactly quick.

4) Put three foursomes of players in carts in back of them…ideally the types who are good golfers who play fairly quickly.

The deer play faster than the 3 rubes I got stuck with.

The deer play faster than the 3 rubes I got stuck with.

5) That first group?  The one with the three walkers?  Let’s have one go full Kevin Na 2012.  Not sure what I’m talking about?  Feast your eyes:

5) If you haven’t punched your computer yet, the next step would be to have one of these people have a pre-shot routine that takes about 60 seconds.  At a public course.  On a Saturday morning.  I’m almost shameful putting this link up but sometimes you have to do things that are unpleasant.

6) Be insistent about who does and doesn’t tend the flag.

I normally try to be patient (and if you play fast, you can shoot 150 for all I care), but I lasted four holes with these three idiots before I bolted from them.  I’ll point out that I took these clowns over an hour to play four holes (again- as the first group out).  It took me 90 minutes to play the last 14 as a single and that would have been shorter had I not had to wait on the guy cutting new holes on several shots on the back nine.

Waiting on guy cutting new hole location.  No worries mate.

Waiting on guy cutting new hole location. No worries mate.

I don’t know what became of them, and frankly, I don’t particularly care.  I know I played a whole lot better once I ditched them; played the back 9 at one over par (6 pars, 2 bogeys and 1 birdie).

18th hole at Northwest Park. Pro tip- hit it left of that giant tree on the right.  Seriously.

18th hole at Northwest Park. Pro tip- hit it left of that giant tree on the right. Seriously.

The sooner you send these goobers to “how to play faster” school, the better we all will be.   Hint- DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, USE THE PRESHOT ROUTINES YOU SEE FROM THE PROS.  They get paid to play.  And most of them play at a pace that would have to improve to be called glacial.

If you’re one of these “walking is integral to the game” purists…that’s all good and well, but I can assure you that I can get around faster than you if I’m in a cart and you’re walking.  And I’m sorry, but on a Saturday morning with a full tee sheet, the goal should be getting people around quickly.  I’ve long felt that early morning weekend rounds should be cart only, with rigidly-enforced time par to get people around.  Maybe go to only twosomes or threesomes for the first few slots.  The Scots believe a round of golf shouldn’t take more than 3 hours.  They’re on to something.

The proverbial “last straw” with the three dipshits was the one telling me “maybe if you walked you might lose some weight” which was hilarious and sad at the same time.

Here’s the thing…I have a confession to make.  It’s taken me years to come to this realization, and hopefully you’ll all be understanding during this time.  I’ve never admitted this before, mostly because I never really felt the need to say it, but here goes.

Oh…the suspense….oh the agony!

I’m fat.

Seriously.

I’m fat.

I’ll say it again.  I’m fat.  It’s true…alert the media.  Golf Channel should have breaking news, but only if a half-in-the-bag Charley Rymer can be the one to mention it.  It’s true!  Golf blogger is fat!  Oh. My. Gawd.  Get Jim Ross!

I’ve been fat most of my life.  I spent two years in middle school fighting my way through grades 7 and 8 because the “intelligent, refined, and intellectually superior” kids would say horrible things and instigate fights with me (that for them, usually ended with them bloodied, bruised and occasionally broken and ended with me getting detention and eventually a suspension…for fights I didn’t seek out or start).

Once I got out of that playground comments about my weight (or the vastness of it) have largely gone silent because people don’t give two shits (ideally this is the case) or because people prefer to mock my fatness behind my back.  Which is fine, because the truth is I don’t really care what anyone thinks about me being fat.  If I wanted your opinion (and I don’t) I’d have provided you with one.

So yes…I’m fat.  You need not point this out to me.  I’m aware of it.  While I’m making confessions, I swear like a sailor and have an alcohol tolerance associated with Irish dockworkers.

I’m not looking for a parade or sympathy.  Treat me with the same respect you’d afford the other folks, and we’ll get along fine.  That’s it.  You don’t need to point it out, and talking about it is, frankly, pointless.  So there.  I said it.