I Went To My First PGA Tour Event
Considering the fact that I’m a scratch golfer, (if you don’t count all the mulligans, and foot-wedges, and hand-wedges, and the fact that I sometimes tee up in the fairway, and the amount of lies I put in my scorecards) it’s kind of shocking that it took me almost 26 years to go to my first PGA Tour event. But this weekend, a few of my pals and I tackled TPC Boston in Norton, MA to watch some golf in the blistering heat.
Now that I’ve had a few days to reflect on the event, there are a few major takeaways that I needed to share with my billions and billions of internet friends.
It is downright disrespectful how many people wear shorts to these events.
Uhhhhm, hey guys, it’s the fuckin PGA tour we are watching here. This isn’t some work outing. You aren’t playing a twilight round to blow some steam off after your boss yelled at you for smelling like cigarette smoke in that morning meeting with the new clients. Cover up your gross, hairy calves for me one time. (Yes, I wore pants. Yes, it was 90 degrees. Yes, I regretted it).
Following Tiger is a suicide mission.
The Tiger phenomenon is so very real. When we showed up we decided that we had to at least watch the GOAT for a few holes just to say we did. And let me tell you – boy did that suck. People aren’t lying when they say that the gallery around Tiger goes 10-15 rows deep. At one point we were completely stopped on a bridge jam packed with people. Like, it was stop-and-go traffic with human beings. Insanity.
If you go to a golf event sober you need to be institutionalized.
Look, I’m not here to sober shame. Not everyone likes drinking, I get that. But my experience went from miserable to ecstatic quite quickly after a vodka-lemonade and a beer or several. And while I realize that last sentence screams alcoholism, it was more a product of the environment, and that I was wearing pants in beach weather, and that I only started to drink after we stopped following Tiger. You know what, the more I think about it the more I think I was just being an idiot at first.
It is very hard to be a drunk, quiet fan.
Holy hell all I wanted to do all day was get some good heckling in. It took every ounce of my willpower to hold back from decimating the psyche of every athlete on the course. You give me a few adult beverages and put me outside in the sun and expect me NOT to chirp everyone I see? Talk about Mission Impossible, amirite?? But I ended up being a nice boy and went with, “nice pants” every time I got the urge to say something offensive. Credit to me.
It is rude they don’t let fans pee in the woods all willy-nilly.
The lack of urination destinations at this event was problematic. Your boy (me) was walking around with a full bladder the entire day. Made it quite difficult to enjoy watching the ole golf ball. And again, I realize this is more a me problem than anything else, but wouldn’t it be nice to just take a quick stroll in the woods and let some urine fly? Me thinks so.
Singing autographs must suck.
We ended up following Brooks Keopka for most of the day, but once he finished his round we stuck around the 18th hole for a bit to see some other players finish and also check out the autograph area and chop it up with some of the guys. A few guys, including the eventual winner Bryson DeChambeau, stuck around for what felt like fourscore and seven years signing autographs. That’s gotta be brutal. All I want to do after playing 18 holes of golf is sit my fat ass down. Doesn’t even need to be on a couch or anything. I just need my ass to be down and feet up (please refrain from thinking about sex jokes, thank you). With that in mind, I formally promise to never sign an autograph at a PGA tour event.
I’m turning pro.
Watching this event made me realize that it’s time that I finally turn pro. People have been telling me for years now that I should, but I have always been a bit nervous about it. Well I’m here to tell you that the time is now. Starting in October with the Safeway Open I will be competing in the PGA Tour. Place your bets now.
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