I get it. No one likes waiting behind a group of players who take three full practice swings on every shot, only to top most of them. We groan watching a foursome disappear into the woods for what feels like an eternity to hunt for a golf ball like it’s a lost Fabergé egg. And we’ve all wanted to blind ourselves as the group ahead reads each putt as if the Masters were on the line and not $5. No one, including me, wants to play a six-hour round of golf. All that said, how about we take it easy about pace of play?
Some people, both online and in real life, get so worked up about pace of play that they seem to care more about it than about the golf itself. If one of the salient features of golf is relaxation, then let’s just calm down about time. Please.
We live in a world where time is paramount and ever valuable. So many golfers now are just trying to find space in between calendar blocks to squeeze in a round. And that can turn speeding things up on the course into an all-consuming thing. Some have to sprint back home or to the office. Others take the high-minded view that slower golf is bad for the overall health of the game. Some of my type A, Calvinist brethren simply have a pre-wired inability to settle the fuck down. These people don’t have it in them to stroll along and smell the flowers. Worse, they freak out when they see others doing just that.
But let’s be honest: Golf will never be a quick game. If you can’t accept that, maybe try speed chess. Or just hit the range. Is it worth all the fury to shave maybe 15 minutes off your round? In the grand scheme, what’s the difference between 3:40 and four hours? To me, people who brag about how quickly they get around the course are akin to those who brag about how quickly they make love.
Golf is also meant to be, you know, fun. Playing with someone who’s obsessed with pace of play is like being in the car with someone speeding on the highway: It’s unnerving, usually ends up saving only a few minutes at best and always has the outside chance of ruining the whole experience for everyone.
My father-in-law is a gentleman golfer. He taught me how to behave at a country club and is always generous in bringing me and other family members along on a round whenever we’re together. However, I have come to believe that when he sees a foursome behind us, it is to him like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are rapidly approaching. This leads to rounds full of smiles, but also some scolding from a man convinced we must outrace Death itself.
Slowness is a crucial part of learning the game. My boys have been playing since they were young, so they know where to go and don’t waste time that way; they just aren’t very good yet and need to hit a lot of shots. Nothing to be done there. For those worrying about the health of the game, what about the new players who give it a try, are made to feel terribly uncomfortable for playing slow and never return?
My regular threesome is not fast, but neither are we slow. We walk and talk. We usually have a guest fourth who may or may not be a good player—we’re more interested in good vibes. Our course is not typically very crowded, so pace of play is not a huge issue, but every so often a crew will race up our asses in carts. Their impatience, we have decided, is their problem. These gents play fast; they also kick it out from behind trees, roll ’em and allow 5-foot gimmes—fulsome timesavers all. We play it as it lies, have a drink or two on the course and take 15 to 20 minutes longer than they do. Quelle horreur!
We’re not insane, though. We don’t send each other back to the tee box after a lost ball if we haven’t remembered to hit a provisional, we do play ready golf, and we do notice when we need to step it up. If you’re behind us, and you think we’re getting a little pokey, a friendly wave or shrug when we look back would be enough to catch our attention. Save the fist shaking and fuming for…nowhere.
Stuart Servetar has been a member of the Broken Tee Society since 2023.
