x

ClubProGuy: Handling a fried egg lie is all in the excuses

divider
May 10, 2019

We’ve all been there — your normally reliable Orlimar 7-wood finally lets you down by producing a weak, wipey fade that finds the greenside bunker. Upon arriving at your ball, you’re shocked to find it in a buried lie, or what we in “the biz” like to call a fried egg. While other so-called teaching pros might offer you techniques for how to execute this shot, I prefer to take the more realistic approach by informing you that you don’t have the talent to get this shot up and down — period. So let’s just focus on what you can control: Playing the victim. Follow these three steps for playing fried-egg lies, and in no time you’ll have a foolproof excuse for hitting lousy bunker shots.

1. Spread the Word

Once you’ve identified your lie, you have only one job, and that’s to make sure every one of your playing partners is fully aware of your misfortune. This is paramount. They need to know that what happens next will absolutely not be your fault. But how to do this? You could start shouting expletives, but this is a gentleman’s game. Instead, stand in the bunker with your hands on your hips, motionless over the ball as you stare in dismay at the lie. This can go on for anywhere from five to 90 seconds, but it’s critical that you hold the position until someone in your group acknowledges there’s an issue. Mercifully, one of your playing partners will eventually say something along the lines of, “Dude, are you buried?”

2. Point the Finger

Once everyone is aware of your hateful lie, you’re playing with house money. It’s time to assign blame. As you dig your feet into the sand, take aim at the grounds crew by blurting something like, “The last trap I was in was pure hardpan, now this?!” Or “We blow money on remodeling the ladies locker room, all the while we’re rocking the worst bunkers in the city?!” Or “The greenskeeper here is a laughingstock!”

3. Fake the Heads-Up

Even though you’ve now artfully apprised the group of your lie predicament, the charade needs one last flourish. It’s what I like to call… The Warning. A second before you start your takeaway, say something pithy to make 100 percent certain your foursome knows this will not be an easy shot. Something like, “Okay, guys, put your heads on a swivel.” Or “Watch your dental work, bros!” Or my favorite: the lamentably underused “Heads-up! This could go anywhere!” Once you pull the trigger and, predictably, leave your rock on the beach, finish off the show by reaching for the rake and muttering something convincing like, “That’s all I could do.” In three simple steps you’ll have achieved your goal of lowering expectations for your short-game to something close to zero.

@ClubProGuy boasts more than a dozen made cuts on the Mexican Mini-Tour, including the famed Yucatán Masters.