No. 22: Non-Denominational Rollback
Dear Pards,
I'm sure you caught Whan's presser at Shinnecock about the golf ball rollback. My first thought was that it sounded an awful lot like me at the post-church Sunday potluck, saying my "diet starts Monday."
I see both sides of this one, but there is one hill I will die on: the last thing I need in my Tuesday night skins game is my scoffed-up NXT going even shorter than the measly 230 I’m currently getting out of it. I'm getting enough shit from my buddies for the number of headcovers I’m hitting into the bulk of these par 4s as-is.
All that said, it does seem like some of the pros are hitting it further than William Flynn & Co. ever wanted them to.
What's your take on the equipment debacle, and what, if anything, should actually change, specifically at the pro level? How far is too far for these guys? Is doing nothing until 2030 a bad thing? Curious to hear your thoughts.
-Short Knocker in Hartford
Dear Short Knocker,
How far is too far?
It is a very fair question that Kyle Porter actually tweeted during the US Open. Using Bryson’s road-bouncing, downwind seed as his example might not have been the best analogy for his argument, but anyone using their brain more than their thumbs should understand his point.
While I will admit to being in favor of some form of change to the status quo at the professional level, I often wonder if it’s as big a deal as the bulk of the podcasting pundits make it out to be.
On a spectrum ranging from hickory-shafted brassies smashing hand-stitched featheries, to PED-injected ProV1s getting launched from 460cc carbon-headed cannons, I find myself somewhere in the middle, as a level-headed, bifurcating, non-denominational Baptist.
Sure, there are issues like anchoring a putter, which are primary concerns that might very well affect your salvation. The golf ball, however, is not one of them. I won’t dunk my baby, but you aren’t damned if you decide to sprinkle yours.
Here are three reasons why doing nothing might not be the platform I vote for, but it also might not mean doomsday either.
1. Human Limitation.
In April of this year, Kenya’s Sebastian Sawe broke the 2-hour mark and ran 26 miles faster than it takes me to write a few hundred words for a free weekly newsletter. If you look at the history of the marathon, humans have gotten faster. No arguing that. But without newfound nitrous in our Nikes, will anyone ever run a marathon in under an hour? I’ll take the over.
The golf ball goes further today than it ever has. That’s objective. I do, however, think the rate of increase is slowing down. From 2020 to 2021, the average driving distance on the PGA Tour went backward. My take is that Beefy Bryson got closer to the steroidless human ceiling than we think.
I don’t think there are enough scoops of protein, shallowing swing tips, or whispers from Julie Elion to help a human being hit a golf ball 600 yards with current equipment.
2. We will still watch.
I have a friend from Pittsburgh who bleeds yellow and black. Around December each year, I will hear him swearing off the NFL because it is “scripted.” Not because their quarterback is a 42-year-old ayahuasca addict.
Yet come January, no one will be more glued to the Steelers' first-round Wild Card loss than my buddy Jared.
Does the current existence of golf make certain cathedrals of the game not as conducive to the pro game? Sure. Though Shinnecock sure didn’t make it seem that way. And that’s all I need in a US Open.
Did you see the scene of the grandstands in Hartford on Monday morning for a two-man playoff with guys that shot -21 over 72 holes of stroke play?
We love golf.
You might take a week off, or even renounce pro golf the morning after being overserved with too many bottles of TPC Craig Ranch.
But you will, most likely, have another beer.
3. We will still play.
While I would prefer the sweet spot on a pro’s one wood to be slightly smaller, I continue to hit hellacious high hooks into more backyards than fairways on a regular basis. I have not met many amateurs who would say with a straight face that they need to hit the golf ball shorter.
This is not a hot take. Nor one that I think is being debated. I do think, however, it’s worth noting that 99.9% of golf being played across the world is played by plumbers & firemen. That does not change regardless of what happens to the golf ball or the equipment.
Those who stand on a salvific hill with their golf ball takes are creating unnecessary division amongst an already divided game. Anyone dying on one side of the spectrum clearly can’t see the nuances and the many factors the USGA has to consider.
The largest being OEMs.
To answer your question on what I would do, the path of least resistance feels like banning a 460cc head and forcing professionals to use a mini/modified driver of some kind. Which they are already making. Eliminating something seems easier than modifying it. Pros don’t pay for clubs anyway, so Titleist can still lure ams into as many TS iterations as they’d like. If the only place I can’t use the aluminum bat is at the US Mid-Am qualifier–where I shoot 85 anyway–that seems fair.
While I understand the thinking behind a rollback, our society is so bad at putting the toothpaste back in the tube. We evolve and innovate. Which I realize sounds funny from a guy who just started a physical mail club. Though I’d argue the “return to print” is less of a retreat and more of a linear evolution. Taking pieces of the past, like paper, and incorporating them into a digital model that initially replaced them.
I say all this, also knowing that 100% approval can’t exist. And probably shouldn’t. As Porter knows by reading the comments on his aforementioned post on the Everything app.
Is there a way professional golf can preserve elements of the past while continuing to evolve and create some sense of unity in what feels like an ever-divisive world?
Or are we actually closer now than we ever have been?
I’m more hopeful than most.
P╞r╠℮P.S. All month, the Postage Stamp at the top of the newsletter will be St. Andrews, by Dave Baysden, in honor of the Open coming up in just a few weeks. It’s also the art on this month’s print for members of the Postage Club.
If NBC made a waggle cursor flashing count before I typed my first word this week, it’d make Harman look like Ludvig.
I thought about skipping a week. No one actually reads this anyway.
I was then reminded of one of my favorite lines from The War of Art.
“Someone once asked Somerset Maughham if he wrote on a schedule or only when struck by inspiration. "I write only when inspiration strikes," he replied. "Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o'clock sharp.”
-Steven Pressfield (The War of Art)
So this was me getting on the Peloton when my legs were sore. As you can tell by the high character count, sometimes the act of showing up brings more out of you than you thought you had. Like it or not, it seems as if my ball bounced off the road and went 427 yards 1569 words this week.
I’m excited to put together the fourth installment of our monthly mail club, the Postage Club, which will go out next week. I’ve been humbled by the praise it’s gotten after just three issues. I’m excited to continue evolving and improving our product over time. Kind of like the golf ball?
While I have immense pride in this ever-evolving project I’ve erected, I do not view it as my baby. Say something remotely bad about my daughter, and your ass is canceled faster than Sunday Wyndham at Shinnecock. Critique my mail club and column? I will most likely welcome it and—most of the time—agree with you. I want to fix the stuff that’s trash and lean further on the front foot of what is working. Shoutout Joe Mayo.
I do not view this exercise as simply me writing to the world. But rather me throwing the match at a growing community of kindling who are as hopeful about golf and life as I am. If there is something that you think could make this project better, or that you just simply love, your honest feedback is encouraged necessary to help this flourish.
If you haven’t gotten a taste of these aforementioned mailers, I’d encourage you to smash the button below harder than Bryson could ever hit a driver. Thankful you’re here.
