Theres a horrible moment that comes with watching golf these days _ particularly if youre a man _ when you realize, horror-stricken, that you have an awful lot in common with that guy theyre making fun of on TV.
Whether its a goofball cartoon dad with stupidity of satirical proportions, a bow-legged investment banker with a swing like a cardboard box or Ray Romano, its always uncomfortable when something on the tube makes you blush.
For me, its the latest round of FootJoy ads. [photopress:FJ_Classics_Tour_1.jpg,full,alignleft]
I dont have a three-piece mauve-and-lavender ensemble for the golf course, but I definitely feel a kinship with Ian Poulter when, in one commercial, he sneaks past his wife, a shoebox tucked under his arm.
She catches him staring lovingly at his newly acquired custom MyJoys, giving him a look like shes just caught a 13-year-old entertaining himself in the bathroom.
He looks ashamed for a moment, then quietly reaches down to re-acquire the shoe, and with a guilty smile, compares the shade to his pants of purple plaid.
I never buy shoes to match a particular outfit _ well, almost never _ but I know what its like to surreptitiously smuggle ill-gotten (read: paid-for) golf gear into the safety of my basement office.
As a result, I can also relate to Zach Johnson, who stars in the other current FootJoy instalment “ trying to locate the all-white DryJoys in a garage wall of shoeboxes that puts Sam Walton to shame.
He, of course, cant find the stupid things without his wifes help. Look on the chart, she offers. I cant find the chart, he whines.
Finally, she calls out the precise location. Thank you, Zach meekly replies.
I dont have a golf-shoe power wall in my garage _ I dont have a garage _ but I do feel like I have more golf shoes than I ought to. But everyone knows they last longer if you rotate through several pairs, right?
Right?
I noticed in Golf Digests annual Hot List issue of a month or two ago that editor Jerry Tarde advises settling on a set of wedges, then buying several of each. Never practice with your gamer, for fear of premature wear and tear.
Hmmm. I like that logic. Now, how to get them into the basement . . .
