Why I Hate Golf Apr10

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Why I Hate Golf

I know it’s skilful – there’s abolutely no doubt in my mind about it. Serial killers use skill too: the Boston Stranger grabs you from behind, you’re out like a light, two or three seconds flat. That’s skill.

It’s the walking. Too much walking. You hit the ball and it goes away from you and then you go look for it, on foot.

It’s the constant talking. Golfers like to talk. That’s why it’s so amenable to business deals and all that pompous stuff golfers go on about.

The clothes are dire.

Tiger Woods. Yeah, he’s talented. So is Celine Dion. But imagine him for a moment, in his hey-day, behind closed doors. Imagine the expensive Champagne, the dollars on the bed, the high-pitched, bimbo-giggles, the blonde dye-jobs, the collagen and the silicone.

The privilege. Golf is the sport of rich, retired bankers, property developers and creative accountants.

The average jokes.

Golfers seem the most likely people to say the word “heck” in conversation. That’s not right.

It’s, like, sooooooo American!

Oh my God!

I once heard this on TV while golf was happening on the TV at the same time as I happened to be looking at the TV: “You the man!”

Ugh.