Fall is golf’s most casual season. Do you know anybody who goes to the range before playing this time of year? Of course not. If you haven’t got it by now, you might as well wait for spring. In fall, we have fewer clubs in the bag (ideally the ones that work), no headcovers (pointless, really, in all seasons, unless your woods are wood), fewer swing thoughts, a faster pace in the shorter afternoons — plus the leaf rule. The leaf rule should be a year-’round thing.
Most golf is casual golf. Golf would be better if we had broader acceptance of (feel free to offer a better phrase) casual golf. Here are some guidelines for MUG/CG play (My Usual Game/Casual Golf), by which most of us already play:
*O.B.? Drop it where it went out, add a shot.
*Lost ball? Ditto.
*Ball in lake? Yes, the same.
*Play each hole from a teeing ground where you can comfortably reach the green in regulation. If your 22-degree hybrid goes 160 yards, don’t play par-3s longer than 160 yards. Really, for most of us, anything over 420 yards is a par-5, and four par-5s is plenty. At least one of your par-5s should be reachable in 2 A+ shots, so choose your teeing ground accordingly. While we’re at it: create a drivable par-4 for yourself. If your Sunday best is 220ish, play one hole at 220-ish.
Why should Bryson and Rory have all the fun?
*MUG/CG scoring: You can’t make worse than triple bogey on any hole, regardless of your skill level, so pick up when you get to 6 or 7 or 8, as appropriate.
*MUG/CG handicap: Add up your score. Subtract par for the course. Subtract 2 from that total. Only count your good days at your regular course. That’s your MUG/CG handicap.
Example, your average good-day score on your home course, a par-71, is 86. So: 86-71=15. Minus another 2. You’re a 13. Recalculate on a monthly basis in season. If you’re playing nine-hole rounds — always a good idea — just double your score.
Pay more attention to what clubs you put in your bag. You may find, if you’re a casual-golf golfer trying to break 100 or 90, that 10 is more than enough. While we’re at it, probably a good idea to carry clubs you can use competently, and leave the decoration clubs at home, or in the trunk, with your headcovers.
I haven’t carried a 3-wood in years.
I played the other day in a four-club tourney on a very short (and lovely) nine-hole course where I play regularly. Eight short and shortish par-4s and a pitch-shot par-3 in the middle, the 5th. (Regular readers of this space will know I am referring to the St. Martins course of the Philadelphia Cricket Club.) I played with a husband and wife, unknown to me before the round, both athletic, both lawyers, both most companionable. I had a driver, a 7-iron, a pitching wedge and a putter, which, from my casual polling and previous experience, seemed to be a popular combo. My friend Glenn, one of the stewards of the St. Martins pro shop and course, told me about a lady who played with a driver, hybrid, 5-iron and 9-iron. “Her intention was to putt with the hybrid,” Glenn said. The woman, a 45-shooter, shot something in the low 50s, with a bunch of three-putt greens.
I will try to make this as brief as possible, and you are welcome (of course!) to quit right here or jump to the kicker. If it had a happy ending, you know the kicker would be in the lede, so use that for guidance if you wish.
First hole: Driver, pitching wedge, pulled a 15-foot birdie putt but the wind blew it in for 3.
Second: Driver, pitching wedge over the green, incompetent pitch with pitching wedge (while wishing I had my reliable sand wedge), did well to make a 5. Now even.
Third: Driver, pitching wedge over the green, two incompetent greenside pitches (while wishing I had my reliable sand wedge), made 6. Two over.
Fourth: Driver, pitching wedge, two-putt par. Still two over.
Fifth, the par-3: Pitching wedge from 110 to 11 inches. Holed it! Now one over.
Sixth: Driver, poor pitching wedge, did well to three-putt. Two over again.
Seventh: Driver, pitching wedge, two-putt par. Still two over. Played second shot from neighboring fairway. Mrs. Gilligan, going up the third fairway, said, “Bamberger, right?” Her husband is one of my pals. “I’m playing a Titleist 4, too. Does yours have a little monkey on it?” Yes, mine had a little pink monkey on it. Our daughter gave me a sleeve of them. Haven’t lost one yet.
At two over on the 8th tee, I knew I had no chance to win the thing. There are always a few serious sticks who are going to break par. But if I could get in at 4 over, I figured I’d be competitive for the net title.
Eighth: Best drive of the day. Since playing in a pro-am with Gary Player last year, I’ve been trying to hook every shot. Gary Player (somehow) even seems to hook his slice putts! As Lee Trevino says, “This golf ball, it’s a clock: 12 o’clock, 3 o’clock, 6 o’clock, 7 o’clock.” His strike comes in at 7 o’clock. My hero. Drawing long (for me) tee shot with driver. From the inside. Head behind the ball at impact. I’m gonna write that down on an index card and put it in my bag.
My second shot was a beautiful, hook-spin pitching wedge. It was on the green for a nanosecond and finished in an easy, fluffy lie just off it. Had I had my sand wedge, I likely would have made bogey from there and maybe even par. The pitching wedge felt so long and awkward in my hands, just as it did on the second and third holes. Of course, I choked up and opened the face. Still, I felt the tug of an absent friend.
A minute later I was in a greenside trap on the other side of the green needing an up-and-in for a 7. Trying to slow things down, I said to my husband-and-wife playing partners, “It’s just so weird to try to play these shots without your sand wedge.” They nodded sympathetically. I counted ’em up: 10. Now I was eight over.
Nine: Driver, pitching wedge that spun off the front of the green. Three putts (the first from off the green) for a 5 and a nine-hole 44.
I asked Pete, Glenn’s colleague in the shop, if we had a max score for this semi-casual event, something like a 10-run mercy rule in pee-wee baseball and beer-league softball.
“Double par,” he said.
“Really?” Was this event more casual than I realized?
“No,” Pete said.
I asked what four clubs he would bring to a four-club event at St. Martins. His game is similar to mine. He said, “Driver, putter, pitching wedge, sand wedge.”
Some of you may note that the 7-iron never came out over these nine holes. I would have used the sand wedge on three holes. It might have saved maybe a half-dozen shots.
It’s hard to get to the house. Rory McIlroy will tell you that. Bryson DeChambeau, too. And even in a nine-hole, four-club event, it’s hard to get to the house. Golf. Golf!
That night, in bed, waiting for sleep, I replayed the 8th hole in my mind and realized I missed one. I had actually made an 11 there. No double par. No triple max. This wasn’t casual golf. I would be fine with any and all contestants using their MUG/CG handicaps for the net portion — I think such a system would reflect golfing ability every bit as well as the real system — but counting is counting and counting is at the core of the golf experience. This four-club event at itty-bitty St. Martins was the real thing.
In conclusion:
There is real golf and there is casual golf, and they are not at all the same thing.
And that’s . . .
OK!
Michael Bamberger welcomes your comments at Michael.Bamberger@Golf.com.
