The complexion of any golf club is a many and varied thing, yet similarities often still shine through. In our experience, it doesn’t matter the size, calibre or socio-economic background of a golf club, certain characters will always be evident. See how many you recognise from your home club or places where you play frequently.
• The member who complains about absolutely everything. It might be the state of the garden bed beside a tee, an overflowing carpark, the standard of the food on offer in the clubhouse or the speed of the uptake of places on a timesheet when logging in online. It’s silly how many of the complaints are actually not directly golf-related, but it’s always something.
• The perennial A grader who always seems to manage to drift out to B grade just in time for the club championships.
• From a similar category: the mysterious – but good – A grader who goes unseen for most of the year but resurfaces like clockwork at club championships time.
• The member who you have no clue how they have the handicap they do, whether that figure seems overly high or low.
• The suspicious duo who pair to win best-ball events just a little too often.
• The same group of four who seem to manage to find a way to combine perfectly to snare any ambrose prize worth winning.
• The foursome who have played together since Methuselah was a boy.
• The volatile mixed-foursomes pairing who you suspect could wind up in a divorce. Or the overly chummy one that might lead to an affair.
• The dress-regulations zealot who will charge across three fairways to reprimand a golfer whose shirt is untucked.
• The female member who scowls upon the sight of a male member even being on the property on ladies day. Likewise, the male dinosaur who still thinks women shouldn’t be allowed to play on Saturdays.
• The cheat. They might be a foot-wedge aficionado or a coin-flicker, own a magic pencil or perhaps they are more overt in their chicaneries. Almost without exclusion, every club has at least one.
• The coroner. You know the one – they simply have to provide you with an autopsy of their round, including how it would have been two strokes lower if not for the unlucky break on 14.
• The barfly.
• The human loudspeaker, who can be heard from four fairways away.
• The member who is always late for their tee-time.
• The Daniel Ricciardo wannabe who thinks cart directional signs and lines are mere suggestions.
• The golfer who has zero clue how to repair a pitch mark without digging up the green, or the one with no idea how to fix a divot properly. Often they’re the same person.
• The committee or board member so rusted on and disinclined towards change that any hope of change or progress is snuffed out before it has a chance to make a difference.
• The regular group who usually book tee-times early in the day but move at a snail’s pace, thereby consigning the entire field to a late start and a slow round.
• The Greg Norman lookalike, as in, the guy who always wears Shark-logoed attire and owns whichever brand of golf clubs Norman is affiliated with at the time. Is probably known within the club as “The Shark”, too. In more recent years, this same fellow might have morphed into a Tiger Woods disciple.
• And, in that mode, the member who simply has to upgrade to the latest equipment (when their game would be far better off if they spent that money on lessons from a PGA pro).
• The frequent player, perhaps a member but perhaps not, who likes to ‘game the system’ and play for free on Christmas Day.
• The member who pays their fees every year, on time and without fail, but who never sets foot on the course or in the clubhouse. A general manager’s eternal mystery, but also their dream member.
