Feherty's Mailbag

Feherty’s Mailbag

If you’ve ever wanted to send David Feherty a question or comment, here’s your chance! David is putting down his mike to answer your E-mails in his mailbag column for GOLFONLINE.

Click here to send him your best question or comment. (Note: Letters may be edited for clarity and length).

I thoroughly enjoy your on-course coverage, and your segment on TGC’s Playing Lessons with the Pros at Whistling Straits is one of my favorites. My question: what do you have to do to get the club selection from the caddies during your telecasts? Thanks for making golf coverage fun.
— Gary M.

I give them legal advice. I help them with their divorces, (like how to avoid custody), and a lot of trumped-up porn stuff. I also help them with medical issues such as gerbil problems, those pesky four-hour Woodrows after washing down 12 Cialis tablets with a six-pack and four doobies, and how to find a Doc to help fill out those workman’s comp forms in every state.

Okay, it’s hand signals.

I’ve been reading GOLF MAGAZINE for a few years now and it never fails. Each time finish the last page I say to myself, “gee, I could use more of that.” That’s when I noticed the web address at the bottom of the page (being from Canada and perhaps somewhat slow due to low temperatures). I ran to my “PUTER” and I began to surf. I read all that you had to offer in one sitting and as soon as the temp. rises above -20 degrees, I’m off to the mall to get your book. My question: Why, when I’m playing “Tiger Woods 2005” do you tell me that the break to the cup is “starboard” when in fact it’s to the left? Hmmm, perhaps I should stop listening to you. Keep up the great work.
— David “Swingcat” Pastuck, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Because I only said “port” when I wanted a glass of it. And I know starboard is to the RIGHT, you half-wit. So that means someone at EA doesn’t. I can’t complain though. We’re about to do 2006 and we’ll almost certainly muck something up for you in that one.

I am in the military, stationed in Turkey. I won the last two events at National … nice course. I’m originally from Dallas and miss Texas terribly. Once I retire I want to be around the game — caddie, course management, whatever. How does one position himself to caddie for a living? I suspect it’s an inside connection of some sort. Just want your thoughts. Thanks.
— T-Bone

p.s. Village Idiot is a masterpiece!!!

Boner:

I guess Turkey’s better than Iraq, huh? You’re the only person I’ve ever heard from who has played one of the two courses I had a hand in building. I actually hand-dug one of those bunkers in front of eight locals leaning on seven shovels. Hey, I’m Irish, I can’t help myself if there’s a spare shovel lying around. As far as caddying for a living, you’ll have to acquire a taste for strong drink, but chances are if you’re in the Air Force stationed in Turkey, you’re more than likely well on your way there. Drugs, gambling, more than one divorce and a three-strike felony record are also pre-requisites, but that’s only if you want to get to the top of your profession.

Hi David, you’re doing a fine job. Enjoy your wit immensely. I have a cultural question about the Irish. I saw “The Boondock Saints” movie the other day and a few days later a documentary on James Joyce; are all Irish supposed to be nuts?
— Serge, Quebec, Canada

And this from a guy in a province that wants to secede from Canada so they can sit around and eat frog’s legs and snails. Best hockey players in the world though. I wish they were playing.

Look, any movie with Willem Dafoe and Billy Connolly can’t be all bad, and what can I say about James Joyce that wouldn’t take a fortnight to finish? Oscar Wilde was fairly normal … rampantly gay or not. You’re picking on some of my favorite crazies here. I love these guys.

Did you know my dad, Norman Sutton, a fixture on the old British PGA circuit?

Regards and keep up the good work.
— Ken Sutton, Cobourg, Ontario, Canada

I did know old Norman. What a guy. Still owes me 25 quid from a bet we made that I couldn’t empty out a pub in Northhamptonshire with one fart. Give him my regards and tell him I’m still looking for the money.


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