Golf is in a decline because people are stupid.

TIME reports that golf is experiencing in a precipitous decline in our country.

Golf equipment sales have been tanking. The number of golf courses closing annually will dwarf the number of new courses opening for years to come.

Apparently people aren’t playing the game like they once did, which is a damn shame.

TIME offers five reasons why this is the case.

1. People are too damn busy.

The argument here is that it’s impossible to find four hours on a weekend to play 18 holes of golf.

As new dad Jason Gay of the Wall Street Journal put it recently, speaking for dads—all parents, really—everywhere, “It is more likely I will become the next prime minister of Belgium than it is that I will find 4½ hours on a weekend to go play golf.”

Of course, there’s no need to play 18 holes of golf at a time (which TIME acknowledges). I probably play 40-50 rounds of golf a year, but a great majority of those rounds are nine hole rounds, played at 6:30 in the morning.

Also, as busy as everyone claims to be, the average American spends 34 hours per week watching television and almost 3 hours per week playing video games on console and mobile devices (with hardcore gamers logging almost 20 hours per week).

Everyone is so damn busy, yet they seem to have a lot of time for the couch.

2. It’s elitist and too expensive.

TIME also points out that golf can be made exceedingly affordable, but quickly discounts that notion:

It’s just that, by and large, the sport has a well-deserved reputation for being pricey—think $400 drivers, $250,000 club “initiation” fees, and too many gadgets to mention. The snooty factor goes hand in hand with the astronomical prices and atmosphere on the typical course.

I played golf for my first five years with a set of used irons that cost my friend $10, a driver that cost about $150, and a putter than cost $1.

I play on public courses which cost me $12-20 per nine holes. We walk the course instead of riding in a cart, which is good for us and saves us money.

Golf is supremely affordable if you allow it to be. 

As for the elitism, that all depends on where you play and who is playing with you. If you and your friends are playing on public courses, elitism doesn’t exist.

Dress codes on public courses barely exist.

If you’re playing at a country club that costs tens of thousands of dollars a year to join, yes, you will encounter elitism. Also strict dress codes and cigars. But this has nothing to do with golf and everything to do with who you choose for  friends are and where you choose to hang out. 

It’s just not cool.

Bah.

It’s too difficult.

This is the beauty of the game.

“The deep appeal of golf, once you get hooked, is that it’s difficult,”John Paul Newport, golf columnist for the Wall Street Journal, told NPR last month. “Normally when you play a round of golf, you step onto the green and that’s when all the intense stress starts. You know, this tiny little hole, you have to look at putts from many ways, you hit it a few feet past and you add up strokes quickly around the green.”

I’m not sure what Newport means by intense stress. Unless you’re playing in some PGA competition, the amount of stress is determined solely by yourself. I may feel pressure at times while playing, but it’s self-imposed pressure. The only thing riding on every shot is my desire for excellence.

Newport is also right that one of the appealing aspects of the game is the challenge. Golf is hard. It’s incredible complicated. You learn new things every time you play. Every single shot is unlike any previous shot. There are constant improvements to be made.

Yes, golf is hard. That’s one of the reasons why it’s so great.

Recently, lunatics have proposed changes such as 15-inch cups in order to make the game much easier and approachable.

This is stupid. This would strip the game of its luster.

Besides, there are already ways of making the game easier to play. Instead of larger holes, play from the red tees and shorten the course for yourself.

Also, learn how out to putt.

5. Tiger Woods.

Skeptics insist that golf isn’t dying. Not by a long shot. The sport’s popularity, they say, is merely taking a natural dip after soaring to unjustified heights during the “golf bubble” brought on by the worldwide phenomenon that was Tiger Woods.

This may be true, but it’s not why I started playing the game, and I can’t imagine quitting a game as great as golf simply because one of its stars is aging.

If TIME is right and these are the reasons that golf is in decline, people suck.

People have plenty of time. They choose to spend it stupidly.

Golf is absolutely affordable if you’re willing to play on public course, walk instead of ride, tee off with last year’s driver, and hit golf balls that don’t cost $5 each.

Golf is difficult. If you require ease and leisure in your life, play Go Fish.

Otherwise, find some grit and determination  and learn to play the game.

Pitchers who intentionally hit batters are cowards

I don’t care if it’s the culture of the game.

I don’t care if teammates are depending upon the retaliation for their own protection.

I don’t care if the manager has ordered it.

Real men don’t throw hard, rounded objects at high speeds in the direction of unsuspecting, defenseless men unless they are at war.

Real war. Not grown men playing a boyhood game war. 

Charge the batters box if need be. Throw a punch. Tackle the guy. Meet him outside the ballpark after the game. Wrestle in the on-deck circle.

Or better yet, strike the guy out. 

Pitchers who intentionally hit batters are cowards.

SportsCenter anchor? No big deal. Actor in a 30 second commercial? AWE INSPIRING.

My friend, Bram Weinstein, is an ESPN anchor. When I first met him, I stood in awe of his occupation and talent.

This is understandable. There was a time in my life when I wore a SportsCenter hat like others wear hats denoting their favorite sports teams. 

I was a SportsCenter junkie.

But over the years, as I’ve gotten to know Bram better, the celebrity-status that I once assigned to the SportsCenter anchor has begun to wane.

I’ve come to realize that despite his occupation, he’s just Bram. Sure, he’s excellent at his job, and yes, he has the opportunity to spend time with the greatest athletes in the world.

But I’ve also seen Bram eat birthday cake. Change a diaper. Shank a tee shot. Play princess with his daughter. Wash the dishes. Dance with his son in his arms.

Sadly, the bloom is off the rose when it comes to ESPN anchors. It turns out that they are just regular people.

The only exception to this rule is when Bram does a “This is SportsCenter” commercial. His second commercial aired this week, and for at least a while, he has once again ascended to celebrity status in my mind.

I’ve been watching these commercials for years. Writing and direction my own versions of these commercials in my head. Dreaming of the day when I could make a “This is SportsCenter” commercial of my own. 

To think that Bram is immortalized in another one of these iconic advertisements is amazing. Unbelievable. Awe inspiring.

At least for now.

The kid is a player.

It’s annoying to see a kid a third or fourth of my age with better moves than I have ever had.

The Patriots new jersey guarantee highlights the struggles of NFL players

There’s no greater testament to the fragile nature of job security in the National Football League than this offer from the Patriots Pro Shop.

The NFL draft is kind of dumb. But this story is AWESOME.

I do not enjoy the NFL draft. Even though I’m an enormous fan of the Patriots and the National Football League, the endless predictions and prognostications leading up to the draft strike me as the biggest waste of time on the planet.

They serve no purpose.

The expert’s mock drafts are never correct. Even if they ranked the players in the correct order (which they never do), all it takes is one trade (which there always is) to render their already inaccurate mock drafts moot.

Even after the draft, there is no telling how these former college players will perform. First round players go bust all the time. Undrafted free agents become Hall of Famers.

There’s no telling until these players take the field. 

I just wait until these players take the field. Then I watch.

That said, this is my favorite NFL draft story of all time.

Putt-Putt Perfection

The Friday and Saturday nights of my youth were often spent at a now-defunct Putt-Putt course in Framingham, Massachusetts.

 

I was not seeking putting perfection as much as I was attempting to impress girls with my wit and guile, but beneath the desire to make girls laugh and demonstrate my male prowess was an almost equally strong desire to win.

I was shooting for a hole-in-one every time.  

The chase of perfection is noble at any level. When achieved, it is a great thing, even on a mini golf course.

This is a great short film about the chase for Putt Putt perfection.

The shouting is amusing, but it’s the makeup that bothers the hell out of me

This video is terrible. I realize it’s only curling, but it’s an Olympic sport.

 

These are Olympic athletes.

And some of them are wearing more eye and face makeup than an actress on the red carpet. It's ridiculous.

It’s a terrible message to send you little girls everywhere.

It’s a terrible image for female athletics.

It’s a terrible image for women.

At least it’s only curling, and only a few Canadians are watching.

NFL players are clearly the most distractible people on the planet

Former NFL players and coaches and other professional football pundits have been commenting on the news that former Michael Sam, the University of Missouri football player and NFL prospect, is gay.

Much of the commentary has been positive. There have been a few players who have expressed concern over a gay man seeing their pee pee in the locker room while they dress, and some, including Sam’s own father, have spoken out against his homosexuality, but these kinds of comment have been in the minority.

There has also been much talk over whether or not Sam’s decision to announce publicly that he is gay will impact his draft status. Will teams be less likely to take him because of the distraction that he will create?

The word “distraction” is used all the time in NFL circles. Former players and coaches are especially fond of talking about the importance of maintaining routines and limiting the distractions to players and the organizations.

The word is used all the time.

It leads me to think that for some reason, NFL players are the most distractible people on the planet.

Even though they are required to stand at podiums every week, answering  questions from reporters, and even though they perform their job in stadiums filled with screaming, angry, drunken, profane fans while millions of others watch at home on television, the idea that a reporter may ask them how they feel about a gay man in the locker room (even though there have likely been many gay men in locker rooms with them in the past) will somehow impede their ability to run fast or catch a ball or tackle an opponent.

Who knows? Possibly a gay opponent.

It seems to me that the NFL needs to invest in Adderall. This level of distractibility can only mean that the majority of NFL players suffer from attention deficit disorder.

Medication, rather than the de-valuing of an NFL prospect because of his sexual orientation, may be the answer.

Contender for best golf shot of the year

The thing about this unbelievable golf shot is that my friends would call me an idiot for ever attempting such a shot. But here is a professional golfer, making it work better than even he could’ve imagined.

See. Maybe I’m not such an idiot after all.

Also, I would’ve never been able to make this shot.

Not in a million years.

And would’ve likely hit myself with the ball in the process. 

Still…

Bill named the Bills.

Yesterday I wrote about the oddity of The Cleveland Browns name and their mascot (after my wife pointed it out to me).

Today I highlight one more odd National Football League name choice:

The Buffalo Bills.

Before I did some research, I was under the impression that the Bills were named after Wild West showman Buffalo Bill Cody. Though the Bills have occasionally used the image of Bill Cody in their team’s iconography, this is not the origin of the name, nor does the team promote any affiliation with Cody today.

The Bills were named after a previous Buffalo Bills team in the now-defunct All-American Football Conference. That Buffalo Bills team ultimately merged with the Cleveland Browns in 1950 (of course), leaving the name available for the current iteration of the team. 

That original AAFC Buffalo Bills team was named for a young male bison, which is commonly referred to as a “Billy.” The name was chosen via a contest run by the team that was won by a man named Bill Keenan.

Did you follow that?

The Buffalo Bills were named by a guy named Bill who suggested the name Bills.

Bill suggested Bills.

No one thought that this choice might have been slightly self serving?

My wife is right. A pantone chip would’ve been a better mascot for the Cleveland Browns.

The Patriots play the Cleveland Browns today.

I mentioned this to my wife last night. She said, “The Browns? I’ve never heard of them. What a stupid name.”

I was surprised that she’d never heard of the Browns. She’s not a huge football fan, but she tends to know as much as the casual fan. Then again, the Browns haven’t won a meaningful game in decades, so they aren’t mentioned very often in casual circles.

Addressing the team’s name, I said, “Actually, the team is named after their first head coach, Paul Brown. And their greatest player of all time happens to be Jim Brown.”

“So what’s their mascot?” she asked. “A pantone chip?”

I’d never thought about it before, but she’s right. It’s a fairly stupid name for a football team. And it’s actually the team’s second choice of name. They were originally named The Cleveland Panthers, but another team in another football league claimed the rights to the name first, forcing the owners to choose a new name.

And Elysha is right. They chose poorly.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand the greatness of their first head coach, Paul Brown, and the honor that the team’s name bestows upon him, but in the end, the team is named after a color. And an unpopular color, too. No one’s favorite color is brown. It’s the color that’s least often used in a box of crayons.

It’s the color of dirt.

Even worse, the Brown’s uniforms are more orange than brown.

As if to emphasize the stupidity of the name, it turns out that the Cleveland Brown’s on-again, off-again mascot is The Brownie Elf.

Brownies are elves from British folklore that are said to inhabit houses and aid in chores. They don’t like to be seen and will only work at night, traditionally in exchange for small gifts of food. Among food, they especially enjoy porridge and honey.

No wonder The Cleveland Browns have never made it to the Super Bowl. It turns out that a pantone chip might’ve been a better mascot after all.

My children ruined my Patriots game day perfection.

Attending Sunday’s Patriots-Steelers game was pretty great. In addition to an outstanding game, our tailgate party was about a dozen strong, including a couple friends who I hadn’t seen in a while. While we watched the early games on a television connected to the car, we dined on burgers and dogs and played some low stakes poker.

Then the Patriots hung 55 points on the Steelers, making it a perfect end to a perfect day.

Except that while I was enjoying myself in Foxboro, I was missing moments like this back home in Connecticut:

  

My friend and fellow season ticket holder asked me to sell about half of our games this year to defer costs, and while I’ve been a little sad about missing some of them (including the last second comeback against New Orleans), moments like this more than make up for staying home and watching a couple more games on the television instead of inside the stadium.

I admire this violent, malicious man.

On a good day, former New England Patriots and current Washington Redskins safety Brandon Meriweather is a hard-nosed, hard hitting football player.

Those days seem few and far between. More often, Meriweather is a dirty player with a disregard for the safety of his opponents. During his tenure in New England, I watched him make purposeful helmet-to-helmet contact with opponents on several occasions, even after the player’s forward progress had been stopped.

He’s also known for hitting players after the whistle and hitting them out of bound with great frequency.

Meriweather has been fined at least four times over the last four years for hits to the head, with fines totaling more than $100,000, and he has been penalized countless times in games for unnecessary roughness.

Based upon the way he plays the game, it would seem that Brandon Meriweather is not a nice man.

But when Chicago Bear’s receiver Brandon Marshall criticized Meriweather after last week’s game for two penalties and a suspension for leading with his helmet, Meriweather responded with this:

"Listen, everybody’s got their opinion of things, you know. Everybody’s got their opinion. He feels like, you know, I need to be kicked out of the league. I feel like, people who beat their girlfriends should be kicked out of the league too.

"You tell me who you’d rather have: Somebody who plays aggressive on the field, or somebody who beats up their girlfriend. Everybody’s got their opinion. That’s mine. He’s got his."

Meriwether was criticizing Marshall for his role in a domestic abuse case involving his then ex-girlfriend back in 2008. Marshall was eventually found not guilty of the crime and was later arrested but not charged in a separate, similar incident. Even though Marshall is innocent of all charges, I can’t help but admire Meriweather for his comments.

The NFL is full of men who commit the kinds of violent crimes for which Meriweather criticized Marshall, and yet they often remain on the field, earning millions of dollars, and rarely are they criticized by their fellow player.

Check that: They are never criticized by their fellow players.

Unfortunately, in this instance Meriweather chose to criticize someone who has not been convicted of a crime, but two separate arrests for domestic abuse is troubling at best, and a reasonable person might call it a pattern.

In all, 31 NFL players have been arrested since the 2013 Super Bowl, including three for domestic abuse.

All three are currently on NFL rosters.

While I support the idea of innocent until proven guilty (perhaps more than most given my background), I also admire the fact that Meriweather is willing to criticize a fellow player for his off-field behavior.

It simply never happens.

And while it would’ve been better for Meriweather to criticize Marshall at the time of the incident rather than in self-defense, it’s a start.

Meriweather is right. If given the choice, I’d much prefer to watch an aggressive player as opposed to a player with a history of domestic abuse.

Unfortunately, Meriweather is more than simply aggressive. He is often malicious and dangerous. While he is admittedly the lesser of two evils when  compared to a man who hits a woman, I’m not sure if either man belongs on the field on Sundays.

If you’re critical of the National Football League, I understand completely. If you’re smug while doing so, you deserve to be kicked through a goal post.

Journalist Fuzz Hogan has decided to stop watching football this season. He cites head injuries, the the use of performance enhancing drugs and the way in which the NFL contributes to corruption in college football as his reasons for forgoing the game.

I have no problem with someone deciding that football is too violent to continue watching. The data on head injuries alone makes the danger clear, and if a football fan decides to stop supporting that violence, I understand completely.

I also have no problem with anyone who decides to stop watching football because of the use of performance enhancing drugs. When the integrity of the game is questioned, then its appeal is understandably diminished.

I’m not sure if the corruption in college football would end if the NFL did not exist as Hogan suggests, but I have no problem with this reason, either. If this is what Hogan believes, his decision to stop watching professional football is admirable.

While I don’t plan to stop watching the National Football League anytime soon, I am more than willing to acknowledge that my continued interest contributes to a variety of serious health problems for the players, and that a boycott of the game would be a noble thing to do.

I just love the game too much to stop.

My dispute with Hogan is based solely in the astounding level of smugness that he exhibits when describing his football free Sundays.

He writes:  

News flash: Watching football is a time-suck. Studies have shown there’s 11 minutes of action in a game that takes three hours. So even though I’ve tried to convince myself that I can be productive during the game—checking e-mails, folding laundry, even working out—that’s still a lot of wasted time trying to not waste time.

This is not a news flash. Football fans have known this forever. Many sports, including baseball and golf, are no different. But the game’s appeal does not lie in the eleven minutes of real time play alone. It’s the moments of critical decision making, the euphoric celebrations, the instant replay, the analysis of each play, the gamesmanship, the strategy and the conversation and camaraderie that fans enjoy between the plays. While Hogan is correct about the eleven minutes of play, his use of the phrase “New flash” and the underlying implication that he is dispensing new information on football fans make him sound like a smug jackass.  

Hogan then goes on to describe his football-free Sunday: 

So instead, on the NFL’s opening Sunday afternoon I cooked dinner—a real dinner, with different dishes and a complicated recipe. I helped the kids with homework, with the attention span to actually help. I found out how the other third lives … the third that doesn’t watch the NFL. It was enjoyable.

What a smug jackass. A real dinner? My wife made grilled cheese sandwiches with apples and bacon last night. We actually picked the apples last week just prior to the Patriots-Saints game. It is one of my favorite dinners, and the whole family loved it. It took her about 15 minutes to make.

Was this not a real enough dinner for you, Mr. Hogan?

Was the lack of complicated recipes disappointing to you?

And what if we decide to order pizza for dinner on Sunday while I watch the Patriots play the Jets? Should I feel like a bad parent or an ineffective human being? 

Is that how you will think of me?

Knowing that you are making a real dinner, from a complicated recipe, while we eat pizza from a box, should I assume that the way that you are spending your time is better than mine?

And what if I choose to help my children with homework after the game? Is this not also acceptable? Is there some premium placed on homework completion during an NFL game?

Hogan then says that his football-free Sundays have allowed him to discover how the people who don’t watch the NFL live.

Has he been watching the NFL while stuffed inside a cardboard box? Did he retire to the basement and lock the door in order to watch the game? Does some moratorium exist that prevented him from asking his friends and family what they were doing while he was watching the game?    

What a stupid, ridiculous, self-serving, smug thing to say. 

I have no problem with the criticism that the National Football League receives. I have no problem with the decision to boycott the game or stop watching forever. I even have no problem with criticism directed at me for supporting this violent game.

But smugness? That’s the worse.

Sometimes even golf can be stupid

And this is one of those times. Unique golf courses and signature holes are lovely, but sometimes an idea is just too bizarre to even be considered golf, and this is one of those idea.

This also strikes me as a fairly elitist construct, perfect for the kind of jackass who likes to mention the name of his Ivy League school whenever possible.

Stupid.

Greatest touchdown call ever

Unicorns! Show ponies! Where’s the beef?

I experienced genuine euphoria yesterday. Unabashed joy. Pure, unbridled happiness. When was the last time you felt that way?

The New England Patriots won an incredible game yesterday. It was one of the most amazing comeback victories that I have ever seen, but what will be lost to the casual observer was how the comeback began when the Patriots lost the ball on a controversial fourth down play with 2 minutes and 50 seconds remaining in the game.

But all accounts, the New Orleans Saints should have been able to win the game right there and then.

Instead of running out the clock or scoring a touchdown, the Saints settled for a field goal, putting them ahead by 4. Then the Patriots got the ball back, and Tom Brady promptly threw an interception on the first play with 2 minutes and 24 seconds remaining on the clock.

Without any timeouts to stop the clock, the game should’ve been over. Again.

But the Patriots defense held, and Brady got the ball back one more time with just over a minute on the clock. That’s three possessions in a span of just under three minutes.

Then, with 10 seconds left in the game, Brady threw the game winning touchdown pass to undrafted rookie wide receiver Kenbrell Thompkins.

The moments leading up to the touchdown were an emotional roller coaster for me. The ball is dropped on the fourth down play, and I shout at the receiver for his stupidity. I hang my head in disgust. All hope is lost.

Then the defense holds the Saints to a field goal, and hope dares to rise in my belly. My eyes widen. My fists clench.

Then Brady throws a terrible interception and all hope is lost again. I drop to my knees and shout an unintelligible mix of groans and wails. “That’s it,” I declare. “Game over.”

But despite my despair, I keep watching, and the defense holds again. A glimmer of hope returns. A tiny flicker. I want to believe.  

With less than a minute on the clock and no timeouts, the team drives down the field with precision. Receivers run routes and make catches. Brady puts the ball in their hands in stride.

Then comes the touchdown.

When Thompkins caught that ball in the corner of the end zone, I leapt to my feet in euphoria. I shouted. I screamed. I jumped up and down. I pumped my fists. I scooped my daughter from the couch and swung her through the air. We danced. We cheered. My phone began dinging with messages from equally euphoric friends who were watching the game. I was out of breath by the time I sat back down on the couch, and even this morning, more than twelve hours after the victory, my heart beats a little quicker and there is joy in my soul.

I can’t help but wonder:

If you aren’t a sports fan, and if you don’t live and die with the success and failures of a particular team, do you ever have the opportunity to experience the kind of blinding euphoria that I experienced yesterday?

Are there other moments in your life that cause you to scream and cry and leap in the air and joyously embrace strangers wearing the same colors as you?

If these moments exist for the non-sports fan, when do they happen, and do they happen nearly as much as they do for someone like me?

I don’t think so.

My wife, for example, celebrated the Patriots victory with me. She was happy for the team’s success. She was pleased with the result. But when the touchdown was scored, there was only one crazy person in the house. I was the only lunatic who couldn’t stop pumping his fists and jumping up and down and shouting.   

When does someone like my wife get to experience the level of genuine euphoria that I felt yesterday afternoon?

I’m not sure that they ever do.

I’m the first to acknowledge that my love for the New England Patriots is irrational. It is a geographically-based adoration for a group of a men who I don’t really know who play a sport that I don’t play myself. I cheer for these men as they attempt to win a game against a different group of men who I despise for no good reason.

It’s crazy.

But it also brings the diehard sports fan a level of joy that can be experienced in so few other ways.

I get that chance every Sunday during football season.

It’s crazy. It’s irrational. But I pity those who don’t get to experience it for themselves.

The Patriots are proof-positive that perspective is hard, if not impossible

A friend and fellow Patriots season ticket holder sent this to me yesterday in one of the weekly email exchanges that we have prior to every game.

I thought it summed things up perfectly:

Tom Brady’s career record as a starting QB now stands at 139-39, making him the first quarterback in NFL history to be 100 games over .500.

In fact only twelve quarterbacks in NFL history have even won as many as 100 games. Pretty amazing – it’s the equivalent of going 13-3 for 10 straight seasons.

Think about all the wins we’ve witnessed, many firsthand, and yet the losses are burned into our memories like they only happened yesterday.

    

Siri on the NFL and MLB

I was on my way home from a sports bar after watching the New England Patriots beat the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

My wife was in the kitchen, making dinner, and wanted to know who had won the game. She turned to her iPhone and asked Siri for the score.

I loved Siri’s responses:

 

I also loved Siri’s report on the Giants versus Panthers game, as well as her answer to the question, “What is your favorite NFL team?”

 

When I asked her if she liked the New York Yankees, her answer was just about perfect: