Do me a favor right now: Drive out to your local exurb. Now, find the nearest Cheesecake Factory in that exurb, walk up to the bar, and try and spot the 40-year-old fellow wearing pleated chinos, loafers, and a button-down shirt with his real-estate company's logo on it. You see that guy? THAT is Rick Reilly's audience. THAT is the kind of bland, formless American male who falls right in ESPN's comedic sweet spot. Do you like shitty golf jokes? If you're that guy, you do. And oh, does Reilly have shitty golf jokes for you. This is his new column. An editor in 2012 read this column and approved it for publication:
Your game is awful. You shouldn't even be allowed on the golf course.
Not your golf game. Your golf talk game. It's lamer than your MySpace account.
If the joke formula of choice is, "[Subject] is [comparative adjective] than [dated reference everyone has already used]," you're in a shitty Rick Reilly column.
Time for some new gloss. Most of these are mine, some are from my derelict friends and some I just flat out stole.
Keep that in mind. Reilly couldn't even write half of these fucking things himself.
Situation: Your opponent's putt is just a little too long to give.
Old: Still some chicken left on that bone.
New: Still need to see the birth certificate, Barack.
That makes no sense.
Situation: Your buddy leaves an eight-foot birdie putt two feet short.
Old: Never up, never in.
New: Nice lag, Sammy Sosa.
Sammy Sosa hasn't played baseball since 2007. This is a NEW joke.
Situation: Your buddy crushes his drive 320.
Old: That dog will hunt!
New: I'm not attracted to men normally, but ...
But your drive was so good, I'm just gonna have to bend you over and fuck you in the ass! Because gay sex is weird and funny!
Since Reilly is clearly mailing it in until his ungodly ESPN contract finally runs out, let's rewrite some of these on his behalf. I'd hate to have him keep going around stealing gay-panic jokes from his friends.
Situation: A guy in your group is slower than osteoporosis.
Old: Today, please?
New: Hurry up, dude. Kevin Na wants to play through.
Newer: Hey, who knew that slow old people hang out at golf courses?! I never would have fucking guessed. And what's with all the honkies?!
Situation: Your opponent skulls one into the ladies' tee markers.
Old: You should sell your clubs.
New: That looked really good right up until you hit it.
Newer: ZOMG! You hit one right where the gashes play! Might as well turn in that man card, bro! I'm not gonna have a gay-sex fantasy about you if you can't hit the ball like a real man!
Situation: Your buddy hits a drive that starts down the middle but then hooks into the trees.
Old: You can talk to a slice but a hook won't listen!
New: That's a Kathleen Turner. It was pretty for a while.
Newer: That ball's a Rick Reilly. For a while, it was inoffensive, and then it turned worse than an old bottle of Crystal Pepsi!
Situation: You hit your third straight terrible shot.
New: You know what? I'd quit golf if I weren't married.
Newer: Aren't women such cunts, you guys? AMIRITE?
Situation: With all the bets on the line, your opponent hits his drive on 18 out of bounds.
Old: That thing got out of here quick.
New: That's an Elin. Definitely gonna cost you.
This is what ESPN thinks of you, the modern American sports fan. They don't think you're smart. They think you're a humorless old dumbfuck who hates his family, hangs out at the muni all day, claps whenever Phil Mickelson does something good, and laughs at ANY JOKE that is served up to you. If you don't happen to fit that description, well that's tough shit. You need to try harder at fitting into ESPN's dying model of what a sports fan ought to be. Let's start by working more Kirstie Alley jokes into your chipping game.