The Golf Scene — Your Weekly Golf Fix
Welcome to The Golf Scene — Your Weekly Golf Fix.
If this is your first issue, welcome.
If you’ve been following along, thanks — I appreciate it.
This week we explore:
golf experiences that may involve a hurried toilet maneuver,
a public service announcement regarding premature unhinging,
and those stinking etiquette procedures that separate golf from complete societal collapse.
And somewhere in there…
we may even help you hit a better shot.
Let’s get into it.

Caricature of me, David Govan. Thanks GPT.
In This Issue:
🏌️ Golf Life: The Hot Dog vs The Toilet
🏌️ Swing Insight: Premature Unhinging — A Public Service Announcement
🏌️ Golf Life II: Rules? I Don’t Need No Stinking Rules.
Golf Life
What Does a Great Golf Experience Really Look Like?
Golf is one of the few sports where the experience matters just as much as the score.
You can shoot the best round of your life on a poorly run golf course… and somehow still leave frustrated.
On the other hand, you can play terribly — slicing drives into neighbouring postal codes while three-putting greens apparently designed by NASA engineers — and still drive home smiling because the overall experience was outstanding.
So what separates an average golf experience from a truly great one?
In my opinion, it comes down to a combination of things working together:
atmosphere
conditioning
people
golf course design
value
scenery
service
and even the feeling you get standing on the first tee.
Because golf is emotional.
A golf course is really a giant outdoor movie set where every small detail affects your mood:
the greeting in the pro shop, the condition of the bunkers, the starter, the pace of play, the marshals, the cart paths, the practice range, the clubhouse… and yes, even the hotdogs.
Especially the hotdogs.
Here’s an example.
You make the turn after the 9th hole and head toward the snack shack because ever since the 5th hole, you’ve been thinking about their famous hotdog.
Sure, your round hasn’t exactly gone according to plan.
On the 3rd hole, a guy picked up your golf ball like he had just discovered buried treasure.
On the 6th hole, your approach shot bounced off a rake apparently positioned by a maniac and ricocheted directly into a creek.
And on the 8th hole, you somehow managed to three-putt from 12 feet despite telling yourself:
“Just cozy it down there.”
But none of that matters anymore.
Because now… there is hope.
The hotdog awaits.
You walk confidently to the snack counter already tasting victory:
slightly burnt onions, perfect mustard distribution, soft bun, maybe even a cold drink.
This is the emotional crossroads of the entire day.
And then it happens.
“Sorry… we’re out of hotdogs.”
Out.
Of.
Hotdogs.
At a golf course.
At lunchtime.
A sentence so devastating it should probably require grief counselling.
Instead, the only remaining food option is what appears to be a four-day-old tuna sandwich sitting in a plastic triangle container that has been slowly baking in the sun since the first days of Covid.
And since there are no washrooms on the back nine, you begin calculating the personal risk associated with hot mayonnaise and unrefrigerated seafood.
That, my friends…
…is what we call a bad golf experience.
Because great golf experiences are rarely about one thing.
They’re about hundreds of little details quietly working together to make your day enjoyable — even when your golf swing resembles a lawn chair falling down a staircase.
And bad experiences?
Those are usually caused by one tiny thing going catastrophically wrong at exactly the wrong moment.
Like running out of hotdogs.
A mistake from which some golfers may never emotionally recover.
If you’ve only ever had a bird on the bbq, maybe follow along and learn a few things…
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Each week: quick reads, better decisions, and fewer “what just happened” moments.
Swing Insight
Premature Unhinging
(A Public Service Announcement for Golfers Everywhere)
Do you suffer from premature unhinging?
No… I’m not talking about your neighbour becoming emotionally unstable because you parked three inches too close to his driveway.
I’m talking about your wrists unhinging far too early in the downswing.
Also known as casting.
This tragic condition occurs when the clubhead begins moving away from your body far too soon — usually accompanied by panic, desperation, and the overwhelming urge to “help” the golf ball into the air.
Sadly, premature unhinging has consequences… especially when accompanied by the 1950s dance craze known as “hanging out on your back foot.”
We’re talking about:
hitting the ground before the golf ball
blading the ball halfway up its equator
topping it six feet down the fairway
or, in severe cases… completely missing the golf ball while still looking confident enough to say:
“I lifted my head.”
But wait… there’s more.
Premature unhinging may also result in:
loss of clubhead speed
weak contact
inability to compress the golf ball
zero divot in front of the ball
emotional instability on par-3 tee decks
and buying one new training aid at 1:30 in the morning after watching a YouTube video where a man in mirrored sunglasses promises 73 extra yards using a pool noodle, resistance bands, aviation aluminum, and false hope.
The good news?
There may be a cure.
Try keeping the butt end of the golf club pointing toward the ground longer during the downswing. This helps maintain wrist angles, improves sequencing, and delays the release of the club until the proper time.
Because the golf ball does not need help getting airborne.
It turns out the good people at golf club manufacturers realized years ago that golfers were absolutely panicking about how to get a ball up off the ground. So they added loft to golf clubs to lift the ball into the air… so you don’t have to.
Which is why modern golf clubs already have loft.
In fact… quite a lot of it.
So unless you’re currently attempting to hit a 2-iron from a 1957 set of Spalding golf clubs while standing on frozen concrete during a windstorm… the club will do the lifting for you.
Your job is simply to deliver the club properly.
Not launch the clubhead at the ball from the top of the downswing like you’re trying to catapult a watermelon into medieval France.
So if your contact is terrible, your divots are missing, and your clubhead speed has mysteriously disappeared into another dimension…
…maybe it’s time to talk to your local PGA Professional about premature unhinging.
Warning:
Correcting premature unhinging may result in:
compressed iron shots
improved ball striking
additional distance
excessive confidence
and suddenly offering unsolicited swing advice to your friends on the driving range.
👉 Before You Read This Next Part…
This next part is where we usually give you a better understanding of what the heck is actually going on at a golf course.
If you’re enjoying this and want it delivered every week:
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No fluff. Just ideas, insight, and the occasional reality check.
Golf Life II
The Generally Accepted Rules of Golf
(That Apparently Need To Be Re-Explained To Humanity)
Golf is a game built on tradition, etiquette, honour, integrity, sportsmanship… and apparently complete chaos.
Because despite centuries of refinement, written rules, dress codes, scorecards, and people whispering “good putt” after a ball misses by six feet…
many golfers still behave like escaped zoo animals the second they arrive at the first tee.
So in the interest of preserving civilization, let’s review a few generally accepted golf procedures.
Not official rules necessarily.
More like:
“the bare minimum requirements for functioning in public.”
Who Tees Off First?
Traditionally, the player with the best score on the previous hole earns the honour of teeing off first.
This is one of golf’s few rewards for competence.
Birdie the hole?
You tee off first.
Make par while your buddies are busy reenacting the Normandy invasion?
You tee off first.
It’s civilized.
It’s orderly.
It makes sense.
Unfortunately, modern golf has replaced this tradition with what can only be described as:
“First guy to the tee box starts swinging.”
There’s no discussion.
No acknowledgement.
No dignity.
Just a grown man sprinting toward a patch of grass like he’s trying to claim mineral rights during the Yukon gold rush.
And heaven forbid somebody says:
“Hey… I think Steve had the honour.”
Because now Steve has to awkwardly decide whether he wants to:
A) preserve golf tradition,
or
B) avoid becoming “that guy.”
Most choose survival.
Ready Golf
Once everyone has hit their tee shots, things change.
At this point, golf becomes “ready golf.”
Meaning:
whoever is ready and prepared to hit… hits.
This is an excellent concept because otherwise a four-hour round becomes a six-hour hostage situation.
If your ball is 12 yards farther away but you’re still calculating humidity, wind direction, barometric pressure, and consulting a yardage book like you’re landing Apollo 11…
the rest of us are moving on with our lives.
Hit the ball.
Nobody on a municipal golf course needs a pre-shot routine resembling a NASA launch sequence.
Around The Green
This is where society truly begins to break down.
Two players are on the green.
Two players are just off the green preparing to chip.
At least… that’s how it was supposed to work.
Because now we have people putting while somebody else is still standing in the bunker holding a wedge and wondering if civilization has collapsed.
Look…
if somebody is chipping onto the green…
perhaps don’t start rolling putts directly through their landing area like you’re conducting a lawn bowling tournament.
Golf does not need to become speed chess.
A little patience won’t kill anyone.
Although judging by some foursomes… it may cause visible discomfort.
The Lost Ball Search Party
Another long-standing golf tradition is helping your playing partners search for a golf ball.
Not forever, obviously.
We’re not organizing a wilderness expedition narrated by David Attenborough.
But for at least a minute or two, the group generally helps.
This is golf’s version of basic human decency.
Yet somehow there’s always one golfer who enthusiastically helps search for their ball…
but completely disappears when yours goes missing.
Your ball enters the woods and suddenly they’re:
cleaning clubs
checking messages
studying cloud formations
or somehow already sitting in the cart eating a protein bar.
Amazing transformation.
And somehow these same people always say:
“Ah too bad… thought I saw it bounce.”
No.
No you didn’t.
You were 70 yards away facing the opposite direction.
The Bunker Rake Situation
When you finish in a bunker, rake it.
This should not require explanation.
You entered the bunker.
You damaged the bunker.
You restore the bunker.
This is the social contract.
Yet some golfers leave footprints, trenches, impact craters, and what appears to be evidence of light archaeological excavation.
I’ve seen bunkers that looked less disturbed after military training exercises.
And then there are the people who drag their pull cart directly through the bunker like they’re crossing the Sahara Desert with supplies.
At that point the rake becomes symbolic.
Like decorative art.
Repair Your Ball Marks
If your golf ball leaves a crater in the green… repair it.
And ideally… repair one other mark while you’re there.
Think of it as golf’s version of community service.
Besides, nothing says “seasoned golfer” quite like fixing a ball mark properly.
Nothing says “complete lunatic” quite like stabbing randomly at the green for 45 seconds while somehow making the damage worse.
The Cart Path Parking Olympics
Another fascinating development in modern golf is the inability to park a golf cart in a remotely logical location.
Some people park:
directly in front of greens
beside tee markers (or on them)
in front of bridges
or on angles suggesting they abandoned the vehicle during an emergency evacuation.
Occasionally you’ll see four carts surrounding a green like police responding to a hostage negotiation.
How this happens remains unclear.
Final Thoughts
Golf has always been a strange mixture of:
tradition
precision
honour
and people yelling “sit!” at a golf ball that was doomed immediately after impact.
But the generally accepted rules of golf do matter.
Not because anybody’s trying to be fancy.
But because they help 4½ hours with three other people feel slightly less like a psychological experiment.
And honestly…
if you can rake a bunker, repair a ball mark, help find a golf ball, and wait five seconds before putting through somebody’s chip shot…
you’re already operating at a surprisingly advanced level of civilization.
If any of this helped or made you laugh…
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Each week: quick reads, better decisions, and fewer “what just happened” moments.
Join the Conversation
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Closing
If you’ve made it this far…
we may have been at the same sock-hop hanging out on our back foot.
My goal with The Golf Scene is simple:
To help you understand the game a little better,
make your bad shots a little less bad,
and maybe even help you enjoy it a bit more along the way.
Because let’s be honest…
👉 this game doesn’t need to be any harder than it already is.
If you found this useful (or at least mildly entertaining), feel free to share it with:
a friend
a playing partner
or someone who chose the tuna sandwich over the hot dog.
And if you’re looking to take your game a step further…
👉 I’d be happy to help — in person or online.
David Govan
PGA of Canada Professional
Golf Excellence Academy
Modern Golf Instruction
Creator of the 5C Golf Performance System
👉 GolfExcellence.ca
Ps — Next week — more golf experiences, we visit the Marque de Sade Golf Academy, and the loan officer and the beverage cart

