The story begins with an anecdote about a man arriving at the club inquiring about playing golf, then presenting to the club secretary his impressive credentials: war veteran, advanced degrees from multiple universities, royal lineage. “You may play nine holes,” the secretary said. “The back nine, of course.” Decades later, a guest described lunch there between morning and afternoon rounds that required a jacket, a tie and a certain dietary restraint. When the unwitting diner attempted to make a second run at the buffet line, he was reprimanded. “Haven’t you already taken your plate for the day?” the head chef bellowed. “We only have so much food prepared.” As one caddie put it, the club is “com- fortable when you’re uncomfortable.” Play enough golf and these stories are not difficult to uncover. They travel freely because no one ever forgets them. The harder part is explaining them because a thorough unpacking should probably draw on insight from a broad assortment of anthropologists, sociologists, psychoanalysts, and locker-room attendants. A charitable view is that many golfers look to their club as a sanctuary from the disorder of their everyday lives, so they hold themselves and others to a standard that can’t be maintained anywhere else. That’s the nice way of framing it. Another perspective says some golf clubs make you feel privileged to be there, and others want you to feel unworthy. In that sense, the enforcement of silly rules about where you park or tie your shoes has the subtle benefit of putting visitors – members, too – on heels from the start. The simplest answer might be that as with any other organisation of people, a golf club does not boast one personality but several. The problem isn’t always institutional but often individual.
‘TELL YOUR GUEST WE WEAR SOCKS HERE FOR DINNER,’ THE GREEN JACKET TOLD THE OTHER GREEN JACKET.
That’s why the manager of a Colorado private club has a letter framed on his wall from a member who wrote complaining about the club’s toilet paper unrolling the wrong way and why a golfer from a private club in Kansas enjoys recalling the story of another player yelling over from another hole to tell the man his son’s shirttail needed to be tucked in. The lesson: The world has its share of petty people, and some of them still happen to play golf. Several years ago, a fourball approached the tee of a par 3 at
a choice Northern California club. They were unaccompanied guests welcomed by the club but not, apparently, by all the members. As the fourball waited for the green to clear, two older women pulled up in a cart and headed straight to the forward tee. “What about them?” one asked, pointing to the guests. “What about them?” said the other. “They’re not members.” Then she swung away, topping her tee shot into the barranca.
GOLF DIGEST SOUTH AFRICA 79
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2025
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