So today kicked off the U.S. Open, which is my third favorite of the four golf majors. Obviously the Masters first, then the British, and fuck the PGA Championship. With the coverage, I was reminded of my least favorite tradition in sports. For some reason, after a tee shot, with the boom microphone strategically placed on the tee box so you can hear the crisp, cracking ping of a driver hitting polyeurethane, people decide to yell something that is supposed to be funny. Or shocking. Or will get their friends to say “hey, I heard you yell ‘Saturdays are for the boys’ on cable television. Don’t worry, I DVRed it so we can have a watch party over a 30 rack of keystones on Tuesday.”
And I’m gonna level with you guys for a second. I get it. I really do. When I was five years old, I had a penchant for kissing girls on the playground. I eventually got caught because my teacher caught us in the plastic jungle gym tube (snitches get stitches by the way and I bet I’m bigger and stronger than you now, Mrs. Finnegan), but I just couldn’t stop. My parents got called and they sat me down and explained that you shouldn’t be dipping your pen in preschool ink, but I just couldn’t help it. The opportunity was there.
Similarly, I get it for the yelling golf guys. If you are lucky enough to get a Thursday off to go to a golf course in Wisconsin and slug $8 Michelob Ultras, please, do what makes you happy. I’ve been to a lot of golf tournaments. Truth be told, I’ve always heard tee shot yell guys (I gotta get a better name for them btw) but I’ve never actually seen one. In my head, I’d have to say they look like this. From the ground up: Sperrys with no socks even though their feet look like a dry aged New York strip steak from walking 8 miles of golf course, un-ironic cargo shorts, an untucked polo with their son’s pee wee football team logo, weird fishing sunglasses, and a sweat-stained top flite hat. If you know about golf, this image should be hilarious, but if you don’t know about golf, it honestly doesn’t make much more sense if you do know about golf. But as always, I digress, let’s rank some stuff that people yell at golf tournaments.
5. Bababooey- In writing this blog, I could have done research, but I didn’t. I really am a big golf guy and I just don’t know why people yell this. I think it has something to do with Howard Stern, but in my opinion, Howard Stern people are the kinds of dudes who go to strip clubs alone and think that Hooters is edgy. If you yell this word, you probably bring baseball gloves to minor league baseball games and still quote Borat.
4. Mashed Potatoes- Once again, I shoulda looked up the origins. I actually think this one is kind of cool if you’re just suggesting that the shot was hammered. But still, whenever I hear mashed potatoes, I immediately think of Thanksgiving. I think letting out a sultry ‘green bean casserole’ would roll off the tongue beautifully.
3. Get in the hole- I just realized something. This isn’t a ranking at all. I’m just listing stuff people yell and complaining about it. But say la vide or whatever the fuck it is. If you yell get in the hole, I really hope those gin and tonics you chugged in the parking lot were worth it, because there’s a special place in hell for you. Really? You’re going to suggest that a PGA golfer with a swing speed of approximately 120 miles per hour, who hits the ball into calm winds, at a a distance of 300 yards will be able to get the golf ball into the hole on a 550 yard par five? Maybe this is a dad joke, but as a dad to a bouncing 65 pound Labrador retriever, I don’t find it funny one bit, good sir.
2. An obscenity- Alright, now we’re talking. The opportunity to be heard while the masses watch the US Open means one thing. You gotta capitalize, homie. While all those chumps are sneakily hiding in their cubicles with one apple headphone in watching US Open coverage, you let out a big old F-bomb for the masses. Great move, never change.
1. Nothing- Act like you’ve been in a nice place before. Enjoy the walk. Have some class. Trust me, getting a little sauced has driven me to some funky impulses. But on the golf course of a tournament with so much history as a major, soaking up some sun, enjoying the round and spending your previous and future three month’s paychecks at the gift tent is the way to go.
I think my issue with this whole yelling business is not these common things. It’s that the people who yell are a special breed of inebriated common folk who literally have between 2 and 3 seconds of national attention. If you’re grinding out 40 hour work weeks in a coal mine (I have a very skewed view of middle America), and you have one shot to be heard by the masses, you’re gonna go with a tired phrase or word that’s been used since before Tiger Woods discovered extra-marital affairs and pain pills? SAD!
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