I was walking through the airport in Chicago this morning and was thinking about Growing The Game.

What sparked this was seeing a 70-something man pass the other direction wearing a golf hat that simply said “THE NETFLIX CUP.” (I know this guy was not evangelizing for this one-off golf streaming event. Older guys love free hats, a fact and feeling I’m empathizing with and embracing more with each passing day.) But, for whatever reason, the hat just laid bare to me how silly, disposable and hollow each harebrained GTG initiative ends up feeling when Scottie Scheffler and Nelly Korda are doing what they’re doing.

The two may seem unrelated (and I’m sure they mostly are), but to me it speaks to the massive gulf between an industry trying desperately to attract new viewers and the things that those of us who eat, sleep and breathe the game actually love most about it.

Golf is exploding for all kinds of different reasons and it’s sincerely great that there are people trying new things and creating all kinds of different pathways to try to make the game more modern and approachable. But for those of us who have been on the couch every Sunday of the post-Tiger era – who, sadly, appreciate and love golf because of its pace and rules and nuance and dorkiness instead of in spite of them – Scottie and Nelly are exactly what we’ve been waiting 15 years for.

I’m more excited to watch week-to-week pro golf now than I have been since Jordan Spieth’s ascension in 2015. And what I personally think is so funny and refreshing about this phenomenon is that it doesn’t involve any tricks. There are no gimmicks or #collabs or press releases or limited product drops doing the heavy lifting. It’s nothing more than generational excellence at the stupid thing I love watching and thinking about. Ass kickings. It’s the highest possible expression of something we all consider an art form for reasons we can’t really explain to our significant others.

Of course, The Product needs to improve. But the last two months have been a reminder to me of just how great watching pro golf can be when the game is blessed with a center of gravity. (And in this case, two.) For the first time in far too long, what happens on the course is markedly more interesting than what’s going on in Ponte Vedra board rooms.

I don’t know if this will result in more people tuning in to pro golf. I hope so, but I’m too excited to really care. I know I’ll be watching more. And I suspect everyone who treats golf like a high-level competitive sport instead of the world’s most boring reality show probably will, too.

After years of non-stop discussion about whether changing the product was necessary (my own hand WAY up here), there’s some cosmic humor in watching the product throw it back in our faces. And with the golf world having these centers of gravity on the men’s and women’s side, it might even take pressure off the networks who are likely feeling like they are drinking from the firehose and trying to make 200 players into stars. Maybe that makes progress on the rest of the product even easier.

I’m excited.

By the way, this whole take makes me feel so old. If you have any free hats, please send them to Milwaukee, Wisconsin.


This past weekend, I officially kicked off my Wisconsin golf season by joining 60ish NLU listeners and Roost members at the fourth annual “Burban” at Spring Valley “Country Club.” The event is a battle between the Langford Lancers and the Moreau Marauders that is held in honor of a dead horse that was buried behind the 14th tee sometime in the 50s.

Speaking of the 50s…we never even came close temperature-wise. Compared to past years, which have featured all types of different precipitation, this year’s cold, dry, slate gray weather was declared a resounding victory. (It was also a resounding victory for my Marauders.)

When we decided to move from Florida back to the Midwest, I got many (very justified) questions about sabotaging my access to year-round golf. But in a way, these muddy season kick-off walks were some of the rounds I missed the most. They’re just the right balance of promise and excuses and always leave you grateful for the opportunity to get outside.

In Florida, there was never a real end to the season; no chance to put the clubs away and reflect. As irrational as it sometimes is, the offseason gives you the chance to turn the page and leave behind the silly mistakes and recurring misses that surely wouldn’t follow you into the next season.

As KVV’s guy Aaron Rodgers would say, maybe this year will be better than the last.


Speaking of Spring Valley: Man, I can’t say enough about how much I love going down there. The golf course is a Langford and Moreau from 1926, about 45 minutes south of downtown Milwaukee, right near the Illinois border.

There are no bunkers on the golf course, but there are all kinds of remnants of horse and plow shaping and little quirks that just make the excellent land that much better to chase your ball around. The greens are almost all laughably pitched from back to front and (especially when it gets baked out in the summer), I can’t imagine how satisfying it would be to really learn the place and hang up a number one day. Even if you don’t have your game, you likely won’t lose a ball and will play quickly.

There is a red mobile home across the street with giant yellow FRIDAY FISH FRY block letters across the side. The patent leather seating inside the clubhouse is the only clue that the “Country Club” descriptor in the name used to be true.

A lot of people rightly talk about how good the golf course could be with relatively minimal investment. But, man, I love it exactly how it is now and I’m sure the people who play there every weekday feel the same way.

The architecture geeks have plenty of restored and renovated playgrounds. I like that this one is $25.


Cody, Casey, Justine and I just got back from Southern California, an amazing trip on which we harvested a great deal of content.

There’s a lot of video stuff to come, but a few quick takeaways:

• We had the unbelievable fortune to spend a day at the Titleist Performance Institute with Dr. Greg Rose, who put us through a full body and golf swing assessment. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Greg starts the day by saying “Pretend I’m a genie and give me your three wishes for your golf game.” He then spends the rest of the day breaking down what in your swing and body is causing the issues and how to fix them. Having him address my own problems was great, but watching him address and fix the immobility in Cody’s left side and Casey’s reverse spine angle was worth the trip alone. I cannot wait for those videos to come out and I'm so thankful for that day.

One fun thing: The first hour or so is spent doing physical assessment stuff (“What’s your range of motion in your shoulder?” “How long can you hold this squat” and so on.) After the assessment, Greg puts the information into his A.I. software, which spits out a prediction on what golf ailments your body is likely causing (and what exercises would help fix them). I have never been more nailed to the wall than I was by this computer.

After TPI, we also got to see the new Omni La Costa North Course, which was recently re-done by Gil Hanse and Jim Wagner. La Costa is getting ready to host both the men’s and women’s NCAA championships and it seems like it will be a fantastic fit for the next three years (and hopefully beyond). We’ll have more thoughts on the golf course (and a video with Cameron Young!) in the next few weeks. But one overarching takeaway is how hard I’m rooting for NCAAs to be a smashing success this year. I think the course has a ton of great viewing vistas, a passionate base of golf sickos nearby, and a lot of fun do-or-die holes down the stretch that will be great for match play. With the ideal weather and a revamped property, it would be really fun to establish San Diego as a long-term home for college golf the same way people think of Omaha for college baseball.


Last month, I got the chance to fill in for my friend Dominic Cotroneo doing stats for a TV broadcast for my (newly) beloved Brewers. This all started with me asking him whether the Brewers would have enough of a sense of humor to give me a season-long credential on behalf of the TrapDraw, which I can confidently say is the No. 1 baseball podcast in the golf space. He said, “Why don’t you just become my backup stats guy instead?” which is a much better, more fun idea.

For those wondering what this job entails, the first task is to keep those in the truck (score bug operators, etc.) up to speed on what’s going on when things start moving quickly (“Turang stole second, pitch was called a strike, 2-2, man on second”). The second job is to try to predict what the commentators are going to want to say on air and arm them with the stats they want before they need them.

Julio Rodriguez is off to a slow start? Scramble around Baseball Reference, grab a post-it note and let the play-by-play man know that in 2022 he also didn’t hit a home run until May 1. It’s the best. My friend Brian Anderson humored me by using most of my notes and giving me a big cartoonish thumbs up each time he did.

The highlight of the night was in the final inning. The Mariners scored two runs off Abner Uribe to tie the game and as the Brewers ran off the field to come hit for the final time, BA asked me to “start getting walk-off stats ready to go,” something I had absolutely no idea how to do.

Panic set in with each Brewers base runner, until eventually the bases were loaded and I realized I had been given the ultimate stroke of luck. The date was April 5th, which I remembered because it was my mom’s birthday... And then I remembered we had also spent her previous birthday at the ballpark... And then I remembered that game ended in dramatic fashion with a walk-off Garrett Mitchell home run.

I double-checked the game log and passed the note to BA, who used it as the crux of his call as Seattle walked in the winning run for a true “walk off.”

Eat shit, Statcast. The Eye Test wins again.


A few final baseball updates:

• I’m having some real survivor’s guilt about abandoning the White Sox in these most trying times (at press time they are 3-22 and despite only playing 25 games, they are 15 back in the division). But even I had no idea it could possibly get this bad. Attending The Burban with some real bonafide South Siders who are committed to going down with the ship was not the best feeling. But I will continue to roll out the barrel and trust that going all-in on the hometown team is the right call long-term.

• I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that My Brewers took an important early lead in the season series with Soly/Randy’s Reds after some real ass-kickings in Cincy. Same for KVV’s Orioles and Neil’s Mets. Everyone is on notice. Just something to monitor.

• Justine and I got to visit Petco Park while we were in San Diego, which, unfortunately for any Padres haters, was an unbelievable atmosphere. It was a perfectly sunny Sunday sell-out and I was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer amount and variety of food and beverage offerings. We tried to pace ourselves and try a bunch of different things and the clear winner was the birria tacos. I also thought the Friar Frank was a solid 7.8/10.

Any ballpark that feels like it’s right in the middle of a downtown setting immediately flies up the rankings, but the way Petco mixed all kinds of design styles made for a fun walk before the game. Parts of it had big exposed beams and brick facades like Wrigley or Fenway. Parts of it felt ultra-modern and brand new. But it still felt like it all worked together and made for a unique feel. Beyond the centerfield seats, they had a festival-style lawn with a giant screen and music stage where standing-room-only ticket holders could watch the game picnic-style on a jumbotron and enjoy the sunshine and atmosphere of the ballpark. It ruled.

In true San Diego fashion, I’m not sure anyone there was really living or dying with each pitch, but there were a lot of them and they all seemed to be incredibly nice and having a positively delightful time. Can’t wait to return.

It’s been a while since I read a baseball book, but with the continuing obliteration of most of the league’s elbows, it seemed like a good time to read Jeff Passan’s 2016 book on the subject: “The Arm: Inside the Billion-Dollar Mystery of the Most Valuable Commodity in Sports.” The book goes into great detail about the people trying to solve pitching injury problems, as well as what specialization in youth sports has done to exacerbate the issue and turn big leaguers into ticking time bombs. It’s been great so far.


With the Tourist Sauce editing crunch upon us, I feel like I have listened to very little music, watched exactly zero (0) movies, and helped with very little cooking in the past few months (massive thank you to Justine). In future G&Ts, this will likely be a much more robust section. I’m hoping to make up for lost time with stuff I’ve missed the past few months, but with the weather improving, that seems unlikely.

One movie note that caught my eye was Quentin Tarantino’s decision to abandon “The Movie Critic,” which was slated to be his 10th and final film. (For those that don’t know, he’s been talking about this idea of “making 10 perfect films” and “going out on top” for the past decade or so.)

I’ve been just fascinated by this decision for years, starting with the idea of whether or not to even believe whether it’s true.

My first reaction is that it feels so painfully eye-rolly and egotistical and overly clever and feels like a guy who is trying to plan and write a trivia card about himself.

On the other hand, I have so much interest in any creative person who can set those types of limits on themselves and declare when their body of work is “done.” That seems especially true for someone whose work is so singularly focused on expressing his own personal thoughts through writing his own films.

After that last movie comes out, are you petrified about having nothing left to say or contribute? Where do you find the confidence to know that feeling of finality will bring you contentment instead of anxiety? Maybe for a high-functioning jack of all trades, it’s a chance to force yourself to try to excel in a new realm later in life (writing more novels or producing or playing the guitar or gardening)? Or maybe it’s all a bit? Who could say?

Either way, it’s hard not to juxtapose Tarantino’s “walk-off” idea with what Martin Scorsese said to Vanity Fair recently after finishing Killers of the Flower Moon:

“The whole world has opened up to me, but it’s too late. It’s too late.”

When asked to elaborate, the 80-year-old Oscar winner said: “I’m old. I read stuff. I see things. I want to tell stories, and there’s no more time. [Filmmaker Akira] Kurosawa, when he got his Oscar, when George [Lucas] and Steven [Spielberg] gave it to him, he said, ‘I’m only now beginning to see the possibility of what cinema could be, and it’s too late.’ He was 83. At the time, I said, ‘What does he mean?’ Now I know what he means.”

Los Angeles, February 2020
Los Angeles, February 2020

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Thanks for reading. KVV is taking over G&T next week before we go back to the top of the order with TC. If you have free hats, mea culpa demands or movie recommendations, hit me up at