Fall is the most casual golf season. Do you know anyone who goes to the golf course before playing this time of year? Of course not. If you don’t have it now, you might as well wait until spring. In the fall we have fewer clubs in the bag (ideally the ones that work), no headgear (pointless, really in all seasons, unless your stuff is made of wood), fewer swing thoughts, a faster pace in the shorter afternoons – plus the blade rule. The leaf rule must apply all year round.
Most golf is casual golf. Golf would be better if we had a wider acceptance of (feel free to use a better phrase) informal golf. Here are some guidelines for MUG/CG (My Usual Game/Casual Golf) play, which most of us already play:
*OB? Drop it where it came out, add a shot.
*Lost ball? Ditto.
*Ball in lake? Yes, same.
*Play each hole from a teeing ground where you can comfortably reach the green according to the rules. If your 22-degree hybrid goes 160 yards, don’t play par-3s longer than 160 yards. For most of us, anything over 420 yards is a par-5, and four par-5s will do. At least one of your par-5s must be reachable in 2 A+ strokes, so choose your teeing area accordingly. While we’re at it, create a driveable par-4 for yourself. If your best Sunday is 220ish, play one hole at 220ish.
Why should Bryson and Rory have all the fun?
*MUG/CG score: You can’t get worse than a triple bogey on any hole, regardless of your skill level, so move on when you reach 6, 7 or 8, as appropriate.
*MUG/CG handicap: add your score. Subtract the par for the course. Subtract 2 from that total. Only count your good days on your regular course. That’s your MUG/CG handicap.
For example, your average good day score on your home course, a par-71, is 86. So: 86-71=15. Minus another 2. You are a 13. Recalculate monthly in season. If you play nine-hole rounds – always a good idea – just double your score.
Pay more attention to which clubs you put in your bag. If you are a casual golfer trying to break 100 or 90, you may find that 10 is more than enough. While we’re at it, it’s probably a good idea to bring bats that you can put to good use, and leave the decorating clubs at home or in the trunk, with your headgear.
I haven’t worn a 3-wood in years.
I recently played in a four-club tournament on a very short (and beautiful) nine-hole course where I play regularly. Eight short and short par-4s and a pitch-shot par-3 in the middle, the 5th. (Regular readers of this space will know that I am talking about the Philadelphia Cricket Club’s St. Martins course.) I was playing with a man and woman unknown to me before the round, both athletic, both lawyers, both very sociable. I had a driver, a 7-iron, a pitching wedge, and a putter, which, based on my regular polling and past experience, seemed to be a popular combination. My friend Glenn, one of the stewards at the St. Martins pro shop and course, told me about a lady who played with a driver, hybrid, 5-iron and 9-iron. “Her intention was to putt with the hybrid,” Glenn said. The woman, a 45 shooter, shot something in the 50s, with a three-putt set of greens.
I’ll try to keep this as short as possible, and you’re (of course!) welcome to stop here or jump to the kicker. If it had a happy ending, you know the kicker would be in the lede, so use that as guidance if you want.
First hole: Driver, pitching wedge, pulled down a 15-foot birdie putt, but the wind blew it in for 3.
Second: Driver, pitching wedge over the green, incompetent pitching with pitching wedge (while wishing I had my trusty sand wedge), did well to make a 5. Right now.
Third: Driver, pitching wedge over the green, two incompetent greenside pitches (while wishing I had my trusty sand wedge), made 6. Two over.
The ‘leaf rule’ explained: how it can help save you during autumn surge
By means of:
Nick Piastowski
Fourth: Driver, pitching wedge, two-putt par. Two more over.
Fifth, the par-3: Pitching wedge from 110 to 11 inches. Pierced! One over now.
Sixth: Driver, poor pitching wedge, did well with a three-putt. Two again.
Seventh: Driver, pitching wedge, two-putt par. Two more over. Second shot played from the neighboring fairway. Mrs. Gilligan, as she turned onto the third fairway, said, “Bamberger, right?” Her husband is one of my friends. “I also play a Titleist 4. Is there a little monkey on yours?” Yes, mine had a little pink monkey on it. Our daughter gave me a cover of it. Haven’t lost one yet.
At two o’clock on the 8th tee I knew I had no chance of winning the thing. There are always some serious sticks that break par. But if I could get in at four, I thought I would be competitive for the net title.
Eighth: Best ride of the day. Ever since I played in a pro-am with Gary Player last year, I’ve been trying to hook every shot. Gary Player (somehow) even seems to hook his slice putts! As Lee Trevino says, “This golf ball is a clock: 12 o’clock, 3 o’clock, 6 o’clock, 7 o’clock.” His attack comes at 7am. My hero. Drawing long (for me) tee shot with driver. From within. Head behind the ball at impact. I’m going to write that on an index card and put it in my bag.
My second shot was a beautiful, hook-spin pitching wedge. It was on the green for a nanosecond and ended in an easy, fluffy lie right off it. If I had had my sand wedge, I probably would have made bogey there and maybe even par. The pitching wedge felt So long and clumsy in my hands, just like on the second and third holes. Of course I choked and opened the face. Yet I felt the tug of an absent friend.
A minute later I was in a greenside trap on the other side of the green that needs an on-and-in for a 7. In an attempt to slow things down, I said to my playing husband and wife, “It’s just so weird to try to play these shots without your sand wedge.” They nodded sympathetically. I added them up: 10. Now I was over eight.
Nine: Driver, pitching wedge that turned off the front of the green. Three putts (the first from the green) for a 5 and a nine-hole 44.
I asked Pete, Glenn’s colleague at the store, if we had a maximum score for this semi-casual event, something like a 10-run mercy rule in pee-wee baseball and beer-league softball.
“Double par,” he said.
“Real?” Was this event more informal than I realized?
“No,” said Piet.
I asked which four clubs he would take to a four-club event at St. Martins. His game is similar to mine. He said, “Driver, putter, pitching wedge, sand wedge.”
Some of you may notice that the 7-iron never made it over these nine holes. I would have used the sand wedge on three holes. It might have saved half a dozen shots.
It’s difficult to get to the house. Rory McIlroy will tell you that. So does Bryson DeChambeau. And even at a nine-hole, four-club event, it’s difficult to get to the house. Golf. Golf!
That night, in bed, waiting for sleep, I replayed the eighth hole in my mind and realized I had missed one. I actually made an 11 there. No double par. No triple max. This wasn’t casual golf. I’d be fine with using MUG/CG handicaps for the net portion – I think such a system would reflect golf’s ability as well as the real system – but counting is counting and counting is at the heart of the golf experience. This four-club event in tiny St. Martins was real.
In conclusion:
There’s real golf and there’s casual golf, and they’re not the same at all.
And that is. . .
OK!
Michael Bamberger welcomes your comments at Michael.Bamberger@Golf.com.
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