You should have seen me out there today. I was flushing my tee shots and stiffing my irons but I couldnât make a putt to save my life. Then on the 16th, you know, that long par-4, I nuke a drive and stuff a 7-iron to six feet, but itâs a downhill slider and I…
Bored yet? You should be.
Because if thereâs anything duller than watching bentgrass grow, itâs listening to your friend or colleague relay the details of his or her round.
The tediousness of such storytelling is so extreme that anytime you feel inclined to âtreatâ your buddies to a play-by-play, proper etiquette suggests that you pause and ask yourself some questions, says veteran CBS announcer and noted raconteur Gary McCord.
âDid you make a hole-in-one or an albatross? Did you do anything at all even remotely out of the ordinary?â McCord says. âIf so, then, okay. But otherwise, the unwritten rule is never, ever talk about yourself.â
Even in the event of a lightning-strike achievement (like, say, getting struck by lightning, which, properly conveyed, might make a decent story) any retelling of your own exploits should be brief and understated.
âBe humble, because this is a dastardly game, and 99 percent of what happens out there is bad,â McCord says. âThatâs another reason no one wants to hear about what you did. Itâs macabre. Itâs grim. Itâs depressing. The vast majority of times, it isnât happy stuff.â
If you simply canât resist the urge to share, focus your account on your partnerâs play. The more mockery, the better.
âDo it in their presence and be sure to taunt them, make it as demeaning as possible,â McCord says. âTell everyone how Fairway Louie lost his ball or hit a big duck on 18 that actually killed a duck. Thatâs entertaining. But anything about you? Absolutely no way.â
The same rule of silence applies beyond the course. Donât bore your doctor, your barber or bartender. And, above all, donât bug your spouse.
âAre you kidding?â McCord says. âDonât even tell them you played golf at all.â