Look, I don’t care about the Masters.
Not even a little bit.
So having to sit and hear people talk about this “cinderella story” (Caddyshack homage definitely intended) all day long is busting up my mellow.
The whole idea of golf bugs me. You go into a field and hit a ball really hard. Then, you walk after it and hit it again. You continue to hit it with lessening force, or different clubs, until you eventually just barely tap it into a hole in the ground.
Then, you pick it up and hit it really hard again…rinse and repeat.
Oh yeah, and the idea is to score as close to zero as possible.
Ok, so first off no sport should be dependent on getting FEWER points than your competitor. That’s just crazy. So golf and tennis are not sports. They just aren’t.
Now, what I could go for golf wise would be a few simple adjustments to the rules.
Allow me to present : Cinlach Golf…
Rule #1 : Strokes don’t count.
Took a 148 on hole #7? Who gives a fuck!
No, instead my version of golf will be timed. That’s right…you’ve got to beat the time your opponent laid down at each hole and the person at the end of 18 with the fewest amount of time spent wins.
No dilly-dallying around, measuring shots, picking up grass to measure the wind…no, just hit the fucking ball already. You’re already 15 seconds behind prick!
Rule #2 : You get one ball…ONE.
Lose the ball, lose the game. Period. No excuses and no crying.
Smack the ball into the pond? Well unless you want to forfeit the game I’d suggest you sack up and get to wading. Oh yeah, by the way the clock’s ticking asshole. You’d better get those pants legs rolled up quick.
If you lose the ball entirely then your opponent wins.
Rule #3 : Drinking is not only allowed, it’s mandatory.
Have a beer! No seriously…drink one. Watching you piss your pants on the 17th green is infinitely more interesting than watching you hit the little while ball.
And that’s it…no other rules. None.
Want to cork your club to get better distance? Fine by me pal…knock the shit out of that thing. Whatever floats your boat baby.
Want to shoot heroin while snorting cocaine and getting a lapdance from Jenna Jameson in the middle of the fairway? What do I care. You’re the one with the drug habit and countless STD’s from Tito Ortiz…have a blast pal.
The only other thing I can think of to make the game more interesting would be to randomly mine certain areas with tripwires and pressure grenades.
“And Tiger Woods walks up to the 6th green to…KABLOOOMM!!”
“Oh shit…”
Of course that would be hell on the spectators…constantly peppered with bloody golfer bits.
Hmm…perhaps not.
What about topless waitresses? Now we might be on to something.
