Few years ago the cover of the program for the Tour event at Colonial Country Club in Fort Worth featured a photo of Ben Hogan leaning on a club with that enigmatic look on his face, but the most noticeable thing about it was the gap between his nicotine-stained middle and index finger where his cigarette should have been. I like to think of Hogan tossing his Gallaher's Blue to the ground as he set up over the ball — grip and posture by Leonardo da Vinci, and the last wisp of smoke trailing from his nostrils as he began his takeaway.
For the sake of John Wayne's ass, I get it — cigarettes are bad for you! But that doesn't erase the fact that some of my heroes smoked, and this sanitization of history pisses me off. How long before we remember Porky Oliver as thin, Trevino as mute, and Tommy Bolt as a Zen master?
Golf is boredom to most non-golfers, and sometimes it's on the edge for those of us who like to play and watch. I don't remember the last time I saw a player really throw a golf club. It's not like I want to go to a tournament and have a Bengals game break out. A little entertainment is all I ask, you know, for old times' sake. So, the next time you play, try tossing a club. Step into the throw Happy Gilmore-style, trailing the offending weapon well behind your throwing shoulder and hip, leaving arm and hand action out of the move until the moment of release. This is where most amateurs make the critical error of hanging on too long, resulting in a violent and often embarrassing pull, or even the dreaded backward heave.
If you decide to go totally batshit, you need worst-case-scenario plans to deal with the Tomahawk, perfected by Lanny Wadkins in the '70s, where the club is left buried up to the grip. Removal should be left to the caddie, who gave you the wrong damn club anyway. Then there are the Sideways Sikorsky and the Ass-Backwards Apache, out-of-control helicopter throws that often result in a club becoming lodged up a tree. I took counsel on the correct procedure in this situation from my good friends Dr. Tom “Total” Loss, a highly suspect member of the USGA, and veteran PGA Tour rules official Sir George Boutell, both of who gave me the thumbs-up on this decision. (At least I think it was George's thumb. He was 60 yards away, sitting in a cart eating doughnuts at the time.) Both agreed that the issues here are retention of dignity and pace of play.
Under the rules of temporary insanity, a player or his caddie may not retrieve such a club, which is deemed to be out of play, and in an interesting footnote, which I have just made up and needs to be added to the Decisions booklet (because at 600 pages it isn't long enough already), both the player and his caddie are allowed to savagely attack anyone who tries to retrieve said club, until the player has holed out and taken up his stance on the next shot that denies him or his caddie a clear line of sight to where the club now rests. In other words, wait until the silly bastard can't see you anymore before you ask one of your liquoredup idiot friends to give you a leg up the tree. Under my rules, the player, having left the scene, has given up all rights to said equipment. If you get any lip from him, tell him I said so, and if that doesn't work, hit him over the head with it. Hopefully, we'll have a camera on you.
Hey, all I want is better TV.
