The Great Game Of Client Golf.
I swore to myself that I’d never be one of those ad guys who took off every Friday (and/or Wednesday or Thursday) to play golf. In fact, it was one of those symbolic things that to me were part of the way the agency business “used to be” in days of wretched excess and self indulgence. That, as much as the fact that I totally suck at it, was the reason I looked at our recent golf match with our friends at Liberty Business Services with something akin to mild trepidation. But they are our newest client partners - not to mention really great guys to hang with - so I resisted every temptation to have another of our client partners (and much better golfer) play in my stead and I soldiered on, removing from my bag the hybrids I can’t hit in favor of the short-to-mid irons I also can’t hit but less so.
The last time I played – with Adam and Tony from our office – I lost 38 golf balls. True story. Granted, a half dozen or so I lent to Adam, but in the final analysis, they were lost none the less as we whacked our way through the second longest golf match on record (unofficial). So perhaps you can understand my misgivings. Can you imagine playing “client golf” and actually losing legitimately! That is what I was facing in a very real sense as well as with regard to my moral imperative not to play golf as part of my business dealings. Ever.
But there are exceptions to every rule, and our match with the Liberty folks was going to be it. Just this one time, I told Adam, who actually didn’t seem to mind showing off my “game” in front of clients (Adam is, himself, a pretty good golfer).
So we hit the “links” (whatever that means) and, amazingly, something interesting happened. I only sucked a little (only losing 7 balls); we actually managed to get a little work done during the course of the day and we enjoyed some face time with a couple of guys who are really fun to spend an afternoon with (in the longest golf match in history (unofficial)). A totally enjoyable afternoon, I’m happy to report, was had by all.
Beer. Cigars. Bawdy jokes. Crashing golf carts into trees. Peeing in the woods. Spanning the globe for the constant variety of sport. Now I see what all the fuss is about. If I had known that “client golf” could be this much fun, I would have done it years ago. But as with many things, I almost let my predispositions get in the way of what was actually a thoroughly enjoyable experience. In fact, I can’t wait to go again.
Now, when the golf pro asks me what my handicap is, instead of quipping: “Isn’t it obvious?” I’m going to square my shoulders and proudly reply: “Twenty-two.” Because I’ve played my first game of client golf and I’m now officially official. I have become what I have claimed to hate the most - one of those “golfer guys.” Heck, I even bought a glove and one of those dorky sweater vest thingies. A pair of knickers and a driving cap and I’ll be set. Look out world, here I come. I am become death, destroyer of worlds!
Fore!