Be wary of anyone who thinks they’ve got a little power. The mere whiff of it – whether it’s real or not – changes them. All sense disappears and all hell breaks loose.
Club committees are the ideal breeding ground for this kind of nonsense. But the average member is far from immune too.
I’ve never really understood why paying an annual fee gives you a right to poke your nose in where it’s not wanted, but stick a logo on someone’s chest and it’s like trying to flush a blocked toilet. All sorts of crap starts spewing out.
I’ve seen it all. I’ve had to show my papers – the green fee tag was practically glowing on the side of my bag that that wasn’t they did it. They just wanted a moment to feel powerful.
I’ve also witnessed players all but coming to blows over who was on whose fairway first.
But there is another phenomenon taking centre stage – the traffic police. You’ve all got at least one member of force in your club and you probably all know who it is. They are the club’s self-appointed pace of play spokesperson.
Pace of play nightmares: Who made you the on course cop?
No one has asked them to perform this role, least of all the group they’re in, but as soon as you might be closing in on their territory, they’re hanging back off the tee with a congestion update and an insatiable urge to tell you about it.
I’m sure you’ve had the following directions:
– “It’s jammed up in front, there’s nowhere to go.”
– “That group in front keeps waiting for the green to clear, so it’s holding everyone up.”
– “I’d let you through if it were down to me, but we’d just be stuck behind you then, wouldn’t we?”
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– “There’s [insert number of players] in this comp today, it’s just going to be four-and-a-half hours for everyone.”
Really, who made you the on-course cop?
By engaging in such pointless chit-chat, you’ve managed to make this day even longer. That group in front is now off the green and I’ve got a trio behind me doing the double teapot while I’m trying to putt.
Remarkably, I have eyes. I’m quite capable of seeing what’s going on. I don’t need you giving me hole-by-hole motorway reports like you’re giving a traffic update on Radio 2.
I just need you to walk to your ball, hit your shot, and sod off. Then we might get round the course a bit more smoothly.
Now have your say
Have you been accosted by the pace of play traffic cop, or is this yet another case of the Angry Club Golfer’s self-persecution complex? You can get in touch with him on X.
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