I’m Officially Playing Dad Golf, And That’s Okay

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I'm Officially Playing Dad Golf, And That's Okay

It finally happened. It was probably about four or five years in the making, but I finally went full dad mode on the course. Yep, I’m playing dad golf, and you know what? I’m fine with it.

I think we were on a short par 5 with a blind tee shot. It was reachable in two, but if you lost your drive right, you were staring at a big number. The other guys in the group pulled the big stick to let the big dog eat. They didn’t give a fuck about bunkers, hazards, or anything else. Not me, though. I had a respectable round going, and when I lose a drive, I lose it right. Like, Tiger over the last few years right. So you know what I did? I pulled out a hybrid — and I didn’t feel bad about it.

There comes a moment in every man’s life when he has to embrace certain lifestyle changes that his younger self would’ve found abhorrent. Going home after just two or three on a weeknight, staying in Friday night so you can max out on Saturday night, and, yes, putting a hybrid in your golf bag and dad golfing the fuck out of the course.

There was a time, not that long ago, that I hated everything the hybrid stood for. Playing a hybrid meant waving a white flag and conceding that you couldn’t hit a long iron. To be honest, my hatred stemmed from pure hubris and naivety, along with an overly inflated view of my game. “I can still put one close from 220 out with my 3-iron,” I’d think to myself. When in reality, it’s way more likely that I hit a toe shot that leads to a double. Not anymore. Thanks to a generous donation from #Chad over at Callaway, and a pure 5-iron from about 192 out, your boy won a 20-degree hybrid at a charity tournament after throwing a dart on the closest to the pin par 3. That shot changed everything.

I’m now completely embracing dad golf. Tough pin placement? I’ll just put it in the middle of the dance floor, thank you very much. Drivable par 4 guarded by bunkers, a moat, gators, and the damn cart girl is right there watching? I’ll just put one in the fairway and rely on my wedge game, guys. Long birdie putt? Just execute a good lag, and if it goes in, it goes in. Guess what? It doesn’t stop there.

Dad golf is not just a conservative approach to the game. It’s more than that — it’s a lifestyle. Dad golf is loading your cooler up with hand towels because you know you’re going to sweat your balls off. Dad golf is making small talk with the marshal while you wait for the group in front of you to clear the green. Dad golf is throwing a two-fingered wave from the steering wheel at every person you drive by. Dad golf is hanging out in the nineteenth hole after the round and discussing all the great shots you had. Dad golf is telling a terrible joke to the cart girl, who’s a clean decade younger than you, and not giving a fuck whether she gets it or not.

I’m not passing judgment on any golfers that live to grip it and rip it. You give me a few Bloody Marys, and you can bet my game slides back into full blown Daly mode. I just think it’s time that young golfers out there consider the merits of dad golf, and respect those who have dared to embrace that lifestyle. If anyone accuses you of losing your edge, just laugh it off, go low, and take that mother fucker’s money.

Image via Tania Thomson / Shutterstock.com

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