Welcome back to the NLU Mailbag. In this space, we’ll address topics big and small, smart and dumb, irreverent and serious.

Normally you need to be a member of The Nest to submit a question to the mailbag, but we’re opening up submissions to the public this month. There are many benefits to joining The Nest: access to our message board, early access to NLU events, a 15 percent discount in the pro shop, an annual gift, plus a members’ only podcast and written work.

Cathie Lawson: I like how the Tour calculates Fed Ex winner; hubby, not so much. What top three reasons are each of us right?

Before it started this week, I was on the verge of coming around on the Tour Championship format. I’m not sure I can come up with three reasons to defend it, but I do think it’s easy to understand, particularly if you’re the kind of golf fan that doesn’t tune in until Saturday or Sunday (which is most golf fans, if we’re being honest.) At least there are no complicated math equations unfolding on the back nine on Sunday, helping determine a winner. But once it started, I was reminded of how lifeless it is. I know the Tour feels historically bound to Atlanta, but everything about it could improve if it were held elsewhere. Oppressive heat plus a bland course in a town with indifferent sports fans is such a recipe for boredom.

The FedExCup playoffs remain a little stuck between two worlds, in that the Tour can’t decide if it wants to model its season-long race after the English Premier League, or the NFL Playoffs. It wants the regular season to matter, and it also wants the playoffs to be something akin to a reset where everyone has a chance to win. In the NFL, you scrape and claw your way through the regular season because you want home-field advantage, which gives you — statistically and emotionally — a better chance to win the title. But there is no home-field advantage in golf. It feels like the only way to solve this is to give the regular season points leader (in this case Scottie Scheffler) an advantage going into the championship. He’s earned it, but he can’t just cruise to victory, he still has to shoot a good score.

I don’t know what a better format would be, other than perhaps a blend of stroke play and match play. I do think you could start the Tour Championship with a staggered start, then take the Top 8 players after two days and shift to match play from there. But no one seems to share the appetite for match play that true golf sickos have.

I do like my colleague Tron’s idea that instead of 10-under, the leader should start at Even Par, and those trailing him should be +2 and +4, etc. That would make for a fun psychological experiment and would make certain players so angry.

David Aneser: If Jay, or whoever is the commissioner, doesn't want the optics of immediately ending LIV, are there ways he could almost get his revenge on those players leaving? From initial reporting it sounded like those guys have to play in every event and it's really hard to get out of the contract. What if he just made the schedule really tough like an event in Malaysia followed by one in Argentina, then one in Poland and then South Africa all in a row. He would be following their ethos of taking golf around the world to places that don't typically get to see the top stars. Do you have any other ideas as a way they might be able to get revenge without killing it off?

Some of this is admittedly conjecture, but I am of the belief that Jay’s position has been considerably weakened by his recent absence from work for health reasons, and by the internal HR mess that’s unfolded within the PGA Tour. In theory, Monahan is supposed to oversee the future of LIV as part of the framework agreement. In reality? I’m not sure that’s a muscle worth flexing at this point, especially if he’s fighting to keep his job. If he really wants LIV to go away, he can simply insist that the board of directors evaluate its profitability and viability after it completes its 2024 season. Outside a group of people who seem driven by grievances, grifting or politics, it’s clear very few people are watching. As much as LIV fans (and players) want to blame the media, it’s hard to escape the truth: People have voted with their remotes. They don’t care about the product.

If you think that’s my fault, or Soly’s fault, or No Laying Up’s fault, you have become totally divorced from reality, and need to log off and touch grass.

LIV has shown that certain markets have been starved for golf, and been screwed over by the PGA Tour’s aggressive over-scheduling. I do think for the good of golf, there needs to be a couple of events per year in Australia.

The scenario you describe, I’m not sure it’s actually all that different from the schedule LIV has currently. Brooks Koepka either chose to play in — or felt he had to play in — two LIV events while his newborn son was in the NICU for three weeks. The players seem to understand what they signed up for.

Jon Fife: I'm sure this could be a somewhat controversial discussion, but I've been wanting to ask the NLU team this… Could Bones be an issue with JT this year? We expected it to be this great partnership, but he has performed worse since they started working together other than the PGA in 2022. Should JT go back to his old caddy?

I think whenever a top player struggles, people tend to look for something to pin the blame on other than the player, whether it’s equipment, coaching, caddying, or even a new marriage (or in some cases, a divorce). What’s harder to accept is that golf is really hard and even the best players struggle to perform consistently, particularly as their body changes and they enter their 30s. We always think of golf as a life sport, and that you don’t reach your prime until you’re 30, but I’m not sure we’ve come to grips with a new reality yet: everyone now is swinging out of their shoes from a very early age, trying to hit it as far as possible. That takes a toll on the body. What if golfers start to age like running backs?

Even if that’s not the case with Thomas, let’s examine the premise of your question. Would Jimmy Johnson even want to caddie again if Thomas asked him to come back? Although there was never an official announcement, he seems to be essentially retired. He’s 66 years old. Thomas was adamant he didn’t fire Johnson when they split, that Johnson wanted to “pursue other opportunities.” It’s possible Johnson simply didn’t want to grind anymore. He has a lot of miles in his legs.

I think if you’re looking for an explanation for his two-year malaise, Thomas’ Data Golf page is far more insightful. For most of his 20s, he was one of the best iron players in the world. Although he has regressed in other areas of his game, the biggest difference between Thomas now and the player he used to be is his approach game. In 2020, he was gaining +1.17 shots per round on approach. In 2023, it’s just +0.36 per round. His putting in 2023 was poor (-0.22 strokes gained, the worst season of his career) but the drop off in his approach game has been even more significant.

If the argument is that Bones has made him a worse iron player and putter, I’m not sure there are facts to support it. Bones has been on the bag for more tournament wins over the last 20 years than any caddie other than Steve Williams. I don’t think he suddenly forgot how to read putts or get yardages.

Clint Novak: Hi Kevin, Do you think some people let Rory off the hook for his Phil gambling comments for the Ryder Cup? Phil is an easy target through many self-inflicted actions, but he is on record as saying he was addicted to gambling, and it is clear from multiple accounts that addiction was totally out of control.  If Phil's addiction was substances, it does not appear to me Rory would take the shot, but with gambling, he did. What are your thoughts?

People who are heavily invested in defending Phil Mickelson’s reputation seem fixated on this point, and it’s a little strange to me considering no one has talked more shit in his career than Phil. To think he is a delicate flower who suddenly needs defending feels rather silly. It was Phil, after all, who first took a Ryder Cup-related dig at Rory many years ago saying the United States had an advantage because, unlike Europe, they weren’t litigating against each other, an obvious dig at Rory’s lawsuit against Horizon Sports Management when Graeme McDowell was still heavily-involved with that firm.

In a literal sense, Rory isn’t even making fun of Mickelson’s gambling addiction. He is taking a dig at the fact that Phil is not involved with the Ryder Cup team for the first time in 25 years.

Now, you can read that multiple ways. I’m sure Rory knows that it will bug Phil to not be involved in Rome. He always loved team events. But the fact that Phil played in 12 consecutive Ryder Cups and was an assistant captain in 2021 is a truly remarkable run, and Rory will be fortunate if he comes close to matching it. I’ve said this before, but it bums me out a great deal that Phil may never get a turn as a Ryder Cup captain. Even though his record as a player has been mixed, I do think he’d be a great captain. And even if he’s a disastrous captain, that would be great theater.

I think it’s a fair assessment that no one in the history of golf has said, or done, more things they’d like to take back than Phil. Just a few weeks ago, he was gleefully agreeing with LIV trolls on Twitter that Rory was a “little bitch” whom no LIV team would want. Phil even took a little dig at Rory for skipping the Heritage after the Masters. Did anyone chastise Phil for mocking Rory’s desire to address his mental health? Or did we just agree that all seems to be fair in LIV and war?

The suggestion that people are suddenly being mean to Phil feels a little ridiculous. He’s a big boy, and he and Rory don’t have to like one another. Golf’s desire to pretend that everyone is a gentleman and everyone gets along isn’t reflective of the culture in other sports, nor is it reality.

Cole Leninger: I would love to hear your personal thoughts on what makes a truly “great” golf course to you. Is it playability? Architectural prowess? The scenery? Vibes? The people there? I’m interested to hear your perspective on what you love in a golf course and what separates a fun place to play from a course you find to be truly spectacular and more meaningful than others.

An interesting, if complicated question. Each person’s answer says something about what they value, right? I feel like it’s not all that different than music or literature or cinema. There aren’t wrong answers, there are only unique answers.

If I had to pick the course I’ve played that I think about the most, it’s Bandon Trails. I like the stillness of it, the way each hole feels like its own universe. But I also recently got the chance to play Sleepy Hollow in a Golfer’s Journal event, and there is something mesmerizing about the middle of the course, where you can see something like six other holes.

But those two courses are among the best courses in the United States, public or private, and the rating of a course is less important than how it makes you feel. Dan Jenkins wrote a 

legendary Sports Illustrated piece almost 60 years ago about Goat Hills

, a dog track muni he grew up playing with his friends in Texas, and it's my favorite piece he ever penned because it speaks to why I love golf. It’s less about the venue than it is about the people you share it with. My favorite golf course on earth is probably Waterton Lakes Golf Course in Alberta, because every year, my family would spend a week in Canada, and it’s the first place that golf ever made me feel something I couldn’t get anywhere else. It didn’t matter that tree roots occasionally grew through the greens or that you had to be wary of bears on the back nine. It had gorgeous scenery and it was where my uncles and my parents and my cousins spent countless hours trying to beat the sunset, just to get in three more holes.

There are three dozen courses I hope I get to play someday (The Old Course, Cypress Point, Fisher’s Island, Sand Hills, Pine Valley, Royal County Down, Tara Iti, etc.) but I think for a course to truly elevate itself, the company needs to be exceptional, the laughs need to be plentiful, and drinks cold afterward. That can happen anywhere. Some of my all-time favorite rounds happened on mediocre public courses in Maryland during the pandemic, when some friends and I got to gather and compete and, as Billy Joel said, forget about life for a while.

That said, forced carries, excessive water hazards and target golf is generally stupid.

Wesley Whamond: Why is Justin Leonard nowhere around when it comes to the Ryder Cup? Did he piss someone off. He won a major and is a RC legend with the putt in 99. I would think he’d be in the fold for vice captain/captain and such? Seems odd.

It does seem odd. And I’ll be honest and say I’ve never given that slight much thought until your question, I guess because Leonard has never made a fuss of things. As far as I can tell, he’s never campaigned for the position or expressed frustration that he has never been considered. It seems there are a handful of players in every generation who never get a serious look despite having the credentials: Hale Irwin, Larry Nelson, Mark O’Meara, Fred Couples, David Duval. Leonard seems destined to share their fate. I’m of the belief that you should get one shot and that’s it, which is why it would be frustrating to see David Love III and Tom Watson each get two turns if you were any of the guys on that list.

Hi KVV, loved your Dan Jenkinsesque summary of your match with DJP. I’ve had this idea for some time: on the Monday or the Wednesday of the Ryder Cup, the captains play an 18 hole match as a curtain raiser for the event. The players could be following along and giving advice etc. Taken to the extreme it could even be worth 1/2 a point - as in the tiebreaker in a halved match which would obviously have implications for Captain selections. It would be content for viewers and spectators in what can be a slow week of build up. Love to hear your thoughts.

I find this idea to be insane but also oddly compelling. Again, all the more reason why it’s sad Mickelson is unlikely to ever be a captain, because imagine how compelling he’d be in this scenario. One potential drawback though: What if Tiger can’t play competitively again? You don’t want this fantasy scenario to prevent him from serving as a captain.

One aspect not working in your favor: The Ryder Cup isn’t really lacking for drama. A match between a 50-year-old Rory with gray hair and a 46-year-old Jordan Spieth with no hair does feel compelling, but I’m not sure the Ryder Cup needs the extra juice.

Jay Rose: Hey KVV, Do you consider soup a meal? (I can argue either side, lol)

I do not consider soup a meal. My wife and I have frequent disagreements on this matter, but I remain firm in my belief that soup is an appetizer or an accompaniment, not the main event of a meal. Especially gazpacho. People who serve gazpacho at dinner parties and act like it’s a meal probably ought to go to jail.

Chili can be a meal, but I don’t think it’s a soup. I’m torn on pozole. It’s definitely a soup, but it feels very much like a meal. Clam chowder is a soup, and it can pretty clearly be a meal, but I enjoy it more when it’s the preview, not the whole show.

Hi KVV. Would be keen to hear from you, or other NLU parents, how you got your kids introduced into golf. The last thing I want to do is push golf too hard onto my son, and then have him resist.

I get this question a lot, probably because I over-share when it comes to my daughter’s love of golf, but I understand why I get it. People who love golf want to share it with their kids, particularly dads with daughters, and it’s not always an easy sell.

My typical advice goes like this: Pushing them rarely works, you almost need to bait the hook and reel them in. When my girls were little, I remember being frustrated that the LPGA didn’t have a coloring book I could buy, so I printed out pictures of Michelle Wie they could color. Another entry point that didn’t exist for me but does now? Shane Bacon’s book 

Watching “The Short Game” on Netflix was also huge. My kids have watched it a half-dozen times, at least. I think it helps when kids can see themselves represented in the media. When my daughter Keegan and I went to the Women’s U.S. Open this summer, she wanted to see Rose Zhang because of the “Week In The Life” documentary we did, but she also wanted to walk a few holes with Amari Avery, who at age 8 was prominently featured in The Short Game. Alexa Pano, who just won on the LPGA for the first time, told 

Sports Illustrated’s Gabby Herzig this week 

that a day rarely goes by without someone coming up to her and saying her appearance in The Short Game is a big reason why they got into golf.

You know what else my daughter loves watching? Highlights of Charlie Woods and Will McGee at the PNC Challenge. In her eyes, they are major celebrities because of that event.

As far as playing, just start by taking your kid to the putting green or the range. I have videos of my daughter smacking range balls with plastic clubs that go about two feet in front of the hitting bay. She’s giddy. These days she’s pissed if her drives don’t go 150 yards.

The PGA Junior League is a great entry point into the game too. I think I can make a good case that all golf between the ages of 7 and 10 ought to be played as a scramble with teammates.  But the best advice I can offer is just watch golf with them as much as possible and take them with you when you play golf, particularly if that’s a twilight nine and there is no one else on the course.

My kids knew who Brandt Snedeker was before they knew LeBron James, just because golf was always on in the house. One of my girls decided, eventually, that it wasn’t for her (she still watches but rarely plays), but the other treats it like a religion. So in reality, I have only a 50 percent success rate. It’s pretty damn rewarding though.

Ian MacFarland: With the USWNT faltering in the World Cup, is Michael Block now a shoe-in for SI Sportsman of the Year?

This question made me laugh out loud (I know it’s submitted in jest) because Blockie being named Sportsman of the Year is not out of the realm of possibility, and it would set off such a delightful uproar among golf sickos, I think we might need to put Randy and Tron in restraints.

The Blockie stuff — hyperbole, the backlash, plus the backlash to the backlash — delights me to no end. You have to be truly deep in our weird golf media world to understand why his 15 minutes of fame has been so polarizing, but now I’m ALL IN  on the idea of him being SI’s Sportsman of the Year just for the takes.

BTonk3: My company just had a large re-org and significant layoffs this week. I was lucky to survive the layoffs, but my new role is a pretty big step backwards for me in my desired career progression which has finally provided the kick in the tail to move on that I have been considering for some time. As someone who recently changed employers, and granted probably not for the same reasons as stated above, what were the main factors that led to your decision, and what should I consider when exploring options?

KVV Mailbag: FedEx Cup Playoffs, Soup and Blockie

A quick reminder: You need to be a member of The Nest to submit a question to the mailbag, but the mailbag itself will be free to read (as long as you behave yourselves). Most of our questions are submitted via our message board, The Refuge, but if you’re not a message board person, please send me an email at kvv@nolayingup.com with your Nest handle and your question. If your question gets picked, we’ll send you a free Nest towel.

CarleyRaeJespenFan: What are your thoughts on people referring to The Open Championship as ‘The British Open’?

This seems like one of those “controversies” that’s not actually real and only meant to juice engagement. For years, NLU has been poking fun at the whole thing by referring to it instead as The Open Championship Presented by Her Majesty the Queen. (Now The King, of course.) But I was surprised to learn that some people take it very seriously. In my Twitter mentions this week, people are literally cursing each other out. One thing people don’t talk about is that an entire generation of Americans grew up watching the “British Open” on ABC and ESPN. That’s literally what the broadcast partners called it for us! That’s what we know it by!

I’m of two minds here: I like to refer to it as The Open Championship. But I also think if it’s going to be viewed as the one, true OPEN, then why exactly are we limited to holding it in England, Scotland or Northern Ireland? I know that’s blasphemy, but it feels like a certain kind of golfing snob wants it both ways. Don’t call it British, but don’t truly share it with the world.

If it’s truly just THE OPEN, then why can’t we hold it in Australia? Or Canada? Or South Africa?

If you don’t want to call The British Open, then consider this my official application to hold the 2030 Open Championship at Tara Iti in New Zealand.

PTM: Outside of the actual golf, what is the most difficult adjustment for American golfers traveling to the The Open? Lodging? Food? Driving on the right side? Schedules?

In my experience, it’s the quality of the Guinness, which makes you want to drink 10 of them and then you wake up the next morning fighting the time change and a hangover. But that’s a media answer. My answer for the golfers is mostly the fact that they’re outside their comfort zone, and very few of them are able to embrace the unfairness of links golf. Sometimes you’re going to get bad bounces and sometimes you’re going to be on the shit side of the draw. American golfers struggle when they don’t have control because they’re so used to hitting the ball high and making it stop quickly. I think lodging and food, they have figured out ways to bring a piece of home with them, but on the course, you still have to mentally commit to hitting certain shots 150 yards knowing they’ll bounce another 30 yards, and as soon as the ball lands, you have no control of the outcome.

VinnyCal75: Are there any venues that have either never hosted an Open or haven’t for a really long time that could potentially do so within the next 10-15 years?

I appreciate the spirit of this question, but the only real answer is Turnberry, which hasn’t hosted an Open since 2009 when Stewart Cink edged out Tom Watson in a playoff. Turnberry hasn’t been officially removed from the rotation, but it seems clear the R&A isn’t going back as long as the Trump Organization continues to own the property. (By the way, that’s not my politics talking, that’s the R&A, which has made its stance clear repeatedly, including again this week.) While Turnberry was the venue for one of the greatest final round duels in golf history, Watson and Nicklaus in 1977, it’s only been the host four times, and the remoteness of the property makes it a tough sell for fans to get to.

In a world where the ball didn’t go 350 yards, it’s kind of fun to think about playing the Open at Prestwick, where the tournament originated in 1860 and was played 24 times between then and 1925, but even if you gave modern players hickory golf clubs and asked them to attack the 6,500-yard layout, it doesn’t have the land available for all the corporate tents, grandstands and hospitality that are required to host. There is a certain irony to the fact that Prestwick stopped hosting the Open because too many people came out to watch Scottish hero Macdonald Smith try to win the 1925 Open, and the crowds were deemed unruly, 

as Golf Digest detailed in this enjoyable look back.

I’m of the belief that if Royal Portrush can host the Open, then Royal County Down should be considered. I know it has logistical challenges, like a lack of lodging nearby, but it’s arguably the greatest golf course in the world. You’d think there would be a way to make it work and still draw thousands of fans. It has, after all, hosted the Senior Open Championship three times. A man can dream.

It does seem criminal that Wales has never hosted an Open, and maybe Royal Porthcrawl deserves future consideration.

Drewski: If you can go back in time to see any British Open in person, which would you choose and why? Watson at Turnberry in 77 feels like an obvious choice, but to see Tiger’s dominance at St. Andrew’s in 2000 or the Phil/Stenson match would be hard to pass up as well.

I gave this some serious thought and ultimately I landed on a bit of a dark horse — 

 The reason? It was Lee Trevino’s second straight Claret Jug and represented a moment when he was arguably the best golfer on the planet, and certainly the most creative.

My dad always admired Jack Nicklaus, but he loved Trevino, whose humble upbringings and charm were more relatable to a working-class guy from Montana. Watching a video of Trevino thinking his way around links courses, shaping shots that modern players can’t even fathom, seems like golf nerd nirvana.

TheEyeTest: KVV (and maybe some help from the Merch Czar as he’s the course/band comp GOAT), which classic British rock bands would you associate with each of the courses on the Open Rota? Is the Old Course the Beatles or the Stones? If one course could be the Sex Pistols, which course would it be?

Great question, and exactly the kind of weird shit we are into here at the NLU Mailbag. I love music but also know my strengths so I enlisted my man D.J. to help with this one as Neil was off creating content. Some initial thoughts…

 — The Rolling Stones. Imagine the opening riff of Gimme Shelter beginning to play just as Jean Van de Velde puts his tee in the ground on the 72nd hole, and this immediately makes sense. An element of danger hangs in the air, of madness and mayhem. No course, and no moment, has ever embodied the lyrics “It’s just a shot away” more than that one.


 — The Beatles. This one feels like a cheat, considering there is a long and winding road in the middle of the course. I once suggested that Yesterday was the best song comp for The Old Course, considering the way it flows together, one piece connected seamlessly to the next, suggests (in the cheesiest, best way) that art is guided not just by people but something spiritual and ethereal. Both song and course invoke nostalgia, the longing for something that's already (mostly) gone. Each creation story feels like the happiest of accidents. A course that was once played in the opposite direction has something in common with a song that was about Scramble Eggs before it became something bigger. It's arguably too short for modern standards, but also maybe not. But it goes beyond Yesterday too. The Old Course is at its most interesting when the weather kicks in, when the wind makes you do experimental, provocative stuff. Also, it would be cooler if they played it with clubs made of Norwegian wood. Much like the Beatles, TOC is as endlessly simple or complicated as you want to make it.


 – Blur: People who seem to know what they are talking about tell me it's really good and perfectly crafted, but I've never really taken the time to dive in. Like a lot of people, I kind of only know the Adam Scott meltdown. Woooohooooooo!


 – Fleetwood Mac: Hitters only. Tournaments that stand the test of time. So much greater than the sum of its parts. Controversial relationship to white lines.


 – The Kinks: Weird, conceptual, not nearly as charming and polished as its more famous contemporaries, but I dare you to not enjoy it. Also probably Wes Anderson's favorite venue.


 – Led Zeppelin: Big, bold. Feels like if Tolkein was a bad ass. Total sensory overload.


 – U2: Undeniably world class, but takes itself laughably seriously.


 – The Verve: Cool catalogue, but most people probably just want to hear one song. Also, I could see Phil somehow parlaying his near-miss in 2016 into 

 – Oasis: Things have gotten... complicated. But my god are they still glorious. I feel like we'll eventually see 59-year-old Liam taking one more run on stage and it'll be a great reminder of what once was. But it will also ultimately be a heartbreaking reminder of mortality. Also you could convince me Stew Cink is the "Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds" of Tour players. (A compliment!)


 – Pink Floyd: Often overshadowed, but a complicated, modern, intense puzzle to be solved. Also feels like JS is 1-2 swing thoughts away from a Syd Barrett experience.


Blakehall: Who is the most likely to get a bad haircut (that gets turned into a bigger deal than it should be) this year?

Considering that Talor Gooch accidentally joined LIV, I think he would be my candidate to accidentally end up with a bad haircut the way Jordan Spieth did when he accidentally threw away his chance to win back-to-back Opens by going all Sampson in 2018 and trimming his locks before the final round at Carnoustie. We’ve had our fun with Gooch this year, but he’s actually a very nice guy who keeps wading into various controversies almost by accident. You actually have to be playing well to be considered for this question, since no one cares if someone gets a bad haircut and doesn’t play the weekend, and Gooch had the game to contend even if he does show up on Sunday with David Beckham’s infamous cornrows or Boris Johnson’s blow-dried bed head.

Scottyrp4: Given how insane this year has been in golf, who is the most intriguing Open champion?

I feel like we talk about Rory McIlroy too much in this space, but he still feels like the answer. If he doesn’t win this week, he’ll be looking at a decade drought in majors. If he does pull it off, suddenly he’s the most intriguing player in golf again.

But let’s remove Rory for a minute and look elsewhere. A Rickie Fowler victory would feel like a prophecy surprisingly fulfilled at the end of a novel when you least expect it. A Patrick Reed victory would give LIV even more credibility because, unlike Brooks Koepka, Reed would fully embrace LIV as one of the reasons why he reached golf’s pinnacle.

KVV Mailbag: The Open? Names, Venues and British Rock Bands

Aspoiledwalk: Assuming this “merger” happens, does Saudi involvement move the needle for sponsor’s eagerness? Basically, are some sponsors going to pull out so that they are not associated with the PIF? Seems like a potential issue.

Ever since the two sides agreed to cease suing each other and see if they can make money together, there has been a lot of talk about how this would legitimize the Saudis in the eyes of American businesses and potentially open up a windfall for investment. I think that’s probably an accurate read. While I think the nuances are important, and that there are differences between doing direct PR for the Saudi regime (“You wouldn’t believe how many women there are in restaurants in Riyadh these days!”) and publicly-traded companies like Uber and FedEx allowing outside investors to buy shares, but a lot of people really don’t care. That is certainly their right. I think the majority of the public will mostly see it that way too. To hear Phil Mickelson tell it, big things are on the horizon.

One thing that makes it hard to gauge, however, is how blatantly LIV executives are willing to distort the facts about potential interest in the product. When the framework agreement was announced, Monica Fee, LIV Golf’s Global Head of Partnerships, told The Fire Pit Collective that her phone had been “ringing off the hook” with interest, and cited ESPN as one of the companies that inquired about a potential partnership. I know that’s inaccurate, based on a conversation I had with a source I trust implicitly. LIV Golf approached ESPN, not the other way around, and it went nowhere. But a little razzle dazzle is how these things often get spun.

You alluded to the flip side – sponsors who are already working with the Tour feeling uncomfortable – and I agree that hasn’t been discussed much. I do know, for a fact, there are at least two sponsors that are uncomfortable with the Saudis and their boards may be faced with some difficult decisions going forward.

But remember, money tends to paper over a bevy of reservations. As the court documents that Twitter user 

 revealed this week show, the DP World Tour is not in great financial shape, and I’m fairly sure they would love an influx of cash.

Chief: On a scale of 1 to 100, how effective has LIV been as a sports washing venture? I feel like the efforts to stand up LIV have put MORE spotlight on and had more people talking about the Saudis’ repugnant human rights record, rather than done anything to sweep it under the rug. It seems to be that the Saudis have fallen into the trap of forgetting that bad press is worse than no press.

If we’re talking about the general public, I agree it’s only made the spotlight brighter. You would be amazed at how many people who don’t follow golf or world affairs suddenly have strong opinions about both when they run into me at barbecues. It’s the kind of issue that has a reach beyond sports, so it’s fair to say there has been some backlash that’s been a net negative for the Kingdom. But the point that I often try to make with regard to this issue is, for the most part, the public isn’t the intended audience for sports washing. It’s corporate power. People assume the Saudis have a bottomless pit of money to throw around, and in the short term, that is true. But the plan to penetrate the world of sports has always been part of a long-term play aimed at moving away from a dependency on oil, and there has been a lot of speculation (from pretty smart people) that the Saudis have 

realized they are spending money at a rate that’s not sustainable

. When you want to spend $1 trillion dollars to build a city in the middle of the desert, you need other countries (or more accurately put, foreign companies) to show some interest in helping you achieve that goal. People sometimes think when you bring this up, you’re suggesting there is a nefarious plot unfolding, but none of it is being done in secret. It’s right out in the open. 

They even spell it out – in English no less – on their website

. If you can use golf (or soccer, or Formula 1, or WWE) to convince a hedge fund manager or CEO to finance a project in Neom, who cares what a journalist or human rights activist thinks? That’s where sportswashing truly works, with the levers of power.


There are also some nuances to this issue that are impossible to parse on Twitter. If the Kingdom is really interested in becoming more progressive as a country, and moving away from subjugating women, there is no doubt the West should be supportive of that. That’s why the United States embraced MBS when he came to power. His critics believe much of what he’s doing is geared toward appearances, that behind the scenes Saudi Arabia remains an authoritarian nightmare where 

dissidents are routinely kidnapped and tortured

is far better than the religious leaders who wielded power and influence before him.

The answers aren’t easy, but the debate is important, so we ought to keep having the debate.

Taylorf: Each of your fingers on one hand is a drink dispenser, which five beverages/drinks are you choosing?

One of the reasons I love this mailbag is we can quickly pivot from global politics to a truly stupid discussion like this, a game I will now refer to as Drink Fingers. This may be the most important question I’ve ever answered, in fact. I’m already nervous about the potential backlash. (I ran it past my wife and one of my daughters and they both agreed, in this hypothetical scenario, you still have access to water and other beverages. You’re simply choosing what beverages you’d like to have access to at all times.) With those stipulations, here we go:

. I think there is nothing better than natural lemonade over ice, the kind you buy at a state fair where they squeeze the lemons in front of you and add what I assume is way too much sugar. One of my favorite BBQ joints in Baltimore, Andy Nelson’s 

(which is featured in the Baltimore episode of Strapped)

 makes a ridiculously good lemonade that I might be kind of addicted to. It might not get as much use in the winter, but during the summer I’d have to guard against going into a sugar coma. 

 I am one of those weirdos who drinks iced coffee all year round, even on the coldest days of Montana winter. Every time I visit my parents at Christmas, I have to sheepishly explain to the coffee proprietor near their house that, yes, I really do want iced coffee even if it is hovering around zero degrees. I am not a coffee snob on par with some — please check out 

 if you take coffee as seriously as I take sportwashing — but there is an art to making a good iced coffee, and it doesn’t involve just dumping hot coffee over ice. That is criminal, and whatever kind of cold coffee came out of my fingers, I would need it to be made properly. A lot of cold brews are really bitter, and I have no interest in the nitro versions that people expect you to drink without ice. (They don’t stay cold long enough unless you chug them! It’s an outrage!) 

I’m going to be very honest about something for a second. I used to absolutely hate carbonated water. I thought Lacroix tasted like napkins. But then my friend Mina Kimes talked about Spindrift so much, Spindrift asked her (and Lenny) to 

, I figured what the hell. I’ll try it. There are worse people you can be influenced by than Mina. I have been hooked on the lime flavor ever since. I know we have a No Free Ads policy here at NLU, but I am currently on a self-imposed break from alcohol and Spindrift has been a wonderful replacement.

 It would be a super cliche to say I wanted Pappy Van Winkle to pour out of my fingers. Pappy is great! And you should definitely read 

the paperback version of Pappyland that just came out,

 by my friend Wright Thompson, because it’s also great, and it’s about families and tradition and what we pass on as much as it is about liquor. But I feel like the scarcity of Pappy makes a lot of people act like assholes. Bourbon shouldn’t be a collector’s item, something people are hoarding so that rich people can pay thousands of dollars for it, only to stare at the bottle sitting in their liquor cabinet like a status symbol. Five years ago, you could find Blanton’s just about everywhere (a great bourbon!) and it was around $55. Now it’s $175 if you’re lucky to find it, and the single barrel goes for around $400. Nothing has changed except the status. That’s obnoxious. Bourbon should be something you drink with friends, whether it’s in a bar, at your house, at a wedding or around a fire. If I actually had a magic Pappy finger, there is a good chance someone would learn about it and try to cut it off to keep it for themselves. No, thank you. I will take a nameless bourbon that’s enjoyable but doesn’t say anything about me other than: Would you like to share one with me? 

 I labored over this final choice for a while, but I feel comfortable with where I landed, assuming a smoothie can be classified as a beverage and not a meal. Would it be weird if my pinky finger was like a cow’s udder that you could squeeze and green smoothie would come out? Absolutely. But I’m not sure it would be any weirder than the other options. I know some people think a green smoothie is only done for health reasons, but I love a good green smoothie that’s blended well. A little mango, pineapple, almond milk, maybe some avocado, spinach and kale? That sounds delightful. And if I need to take the edge off after a long day of fighting with people on Twitter, just drip a couple of shots of bourbon in there from my ring finger.

Iacas: KVV, what do you think makes for a good caddie or a bad caddie for a PGA Tour player, and to what extent can a caddie who is at least competent at the basic caddie tasks enough that their golfer never worries about them positively or negatively affect a golfer’s performance once they’re past the “getting to know each other” phase?

One of the first majors I covered for ESPN was the Open Championship at St. Andrews in 2015, and after the second round, I wrote a story about Adam Scott and Steve Williams, and touched a bit on the nature of their relationship. One anecdote I remember most from that piece was that Williams was up at 5:30 a.m. prior to Scott’s second round, walking The Old Course to chart pin positions, despite the fact that it was raining buckets. He and Jim “Bones” McKay were the only two caddies out there. I thought about that this year at the U.S. Open when, on Wednesday afternoon, I bumped into Michael Greller walking Los Angeles Country Club with his yardage book in hand. Jordan Spieth was resting somewhere, but Greller was eager to put in extra work. I don’t think it's a coincidence that those three men have been on the bag for 23 majors. (Williams 14, Bones 6, Greller 3).

The first requirement of a good caddie is you have to put in the work, and sometimes — most of the time — the hours suck. If you put in the work, it gives you the credibility you need when it’s time to speak up. Bad caddies cut corners, and eventually it bleeds into their player’s game.


I would say temperament is a big part of it outside of the work you put in. One of the reasons Brooks Koepka and Ricky Elliott have been so successful together is they each have a calm about them, even under pressure, that allows them to communicate without overcomplicating things. I’ve been nearby for a lot of their conversations (Koepka is the only golfer whom I can say I’ve been present for every one of his major wins) and I’m always impressed with how serene they are. Elliott makes suggestions, Koepka makes decisions. They don’t really debate much. Other players need a different energy, but Elliott understands Koepka’s personality.

Another example: I was walking right next to Matt Kuchar and John Wood at the Open Championship in 2017, when Spieth was in the midst of both a meltdown and a comeback, and I remember Wood doing a brilliant job of asking Kuchar questions about anything other than the tournament between shots: Vacations, music, his kids. The fact that Kuchar took the lead on the 13th hole, played the next four holes in 2-under, and still lost by three is among the craziest things that’s happened in this era.

The correct answer is probably: Every caddie and player relationship is different. I once asked Lydia Ko why she went through eight caddies her rookie year. Her answer was pretty simple: She was trying to figure out what kind of relationship worked best for her, and she could only do it through trial and error.

GottliebK12: In honor of American Independence Day, how about some civics? If you were to recast Hamilton with professional golfers, who would play which roles?

As someone with three daughters who all went through a big Hamilton phase, I have heard the soundtrack roughly 10 million times, so I think I am a good person to answer this question.


This is the hardest role to cast, but I think this is our best bet. Not afraid to share his opinions and emotions, sometimes impulsive, born on an island nation and came from humble beginnings. Married an American but still seen as an outsider to some blue bloods. Not afraid to stand for something, even if you hate him for it.

. Not really sure which side he wants to be on, is very calculating in assessing all the information, trying to determine which way the wind is blowing. Slow and deliberate. Believes he should be in the room where it happens.

Both camps believe he’s on their side. Not interested in wearing a uniform. Friendly with Hamilton.


Confident (some might say too confident) in his intellectual faculties. Not a big fan of federalism or taxes. A pretty sharp dancer who feuded frequently with Hamilton. Regardless of how you feel about him, tell me you wouldn’t absolutely delight in him strutting around to “What did I miss?” after he emerged from a self-imposed absence.

 Extremely smart pragmatist who can be credited with holding things together while everyone else was screaming and backstabbing each other. Friends with Jefferson, but sees Hamilton’s points too.

 The Father of it all. A mythic figure that no one will cross, not even Jefferson. The 2019 Masters is probably his version of “One Last Time.”

One of the funnier characters who stands up for what he believes in, but history may not remember him the way it does some of his peers.


Threatened people who were thinking about leaving, then declared they’d be back eventually. Understood the dispute was ultimately about money, even though he framed it as loyalty. Probably could have won the war if he had more resources, but ultimately decided a truce and alliance was in everyone’s best interests.

At first, seems kind of plain and inoffensive but as time goes on, turns out to be maybe the most talented member of the ensemble.

dizzying intellect that leads to him talking. A lot.

 Passionate, doesn’t like being overlooked, feisty and willing to chirp if the situation calls for it.

 A young man full of promise, you just pray nothing bad happens to him in a duel.

Used to be friendly with Washington before he started talking shit. Not particularly well-liked by his peers as his career unfolds.

Sarah: What could you see as the possible culmination for the LACC backlash? It strikes me that a massively exclusive golf course, situated on extraordinary expensive land, in an area dealing with widespread housing crisis, experiencing public critique of the steps it took to prevent the normals from the rare chance of stepping foot on the property, could be a powder keg of sorts in the golf course/land use discussion.

I think all the issues you point out were coming to a boil by the end of the U.S. Open, but they already feel like they’re simmering down in the public consciousness. I think LACC was a great course and helped determine a worthy champion, but the corporate feel of the crowd was a real bummer. Sunday was the only day it even had the energy of a major championship. I don’t think every U.S. Open needs to be held at a public course, but I don’t think our national championship should have the feel of a corporate member guest. I think the USGA should have pushed harder in its negotiations with LACC to let more fans on site, and not fans sitting in corporate suites. As for the housing crisis stuff, I am going to be realistic here: There is no chance LACC is ever going to turn into affordable housing or become a jogging park the way Malcolm Gladwell wants. That land, even if it wasn’t a golf course, would be worth billions and billions. I think California will have private golf courses as long as they have water (no sure thing), but it is possible we’ll see a backlash somewhere in the future if major championships (particularly the U.S. Open) start to feel like a cocktail party for the elite.

BDeck25: Ideal Fourth of July foursome, but for a backyard BBQ. Who’s got the fireworks, who’s on the grill, who’s making the entire family uncomfortable after too many High Noons?

I’m going to tweak this question a bit and construct an ideal backyard BBQ using the NLU staff. For starters, I am going to have Cody manning the grill. I feel like that’s one of the most important jobs and there is no one I trust more to handle a combination of meat and fire. Casey and D.J. are going to handle the music, which is going to be an eclectic mix of bangers but also mood as the evening unfolds. I’ve got Soly handling fireworks because he has the right balance of glee and gravitas for the job. He’s going to make sure everyone has fun, but also doesn’t blow a hand off. He’s not going to be an idiot who lets kids run around shooting roman candles at each other, but he’s going to coordinate a showstopper of a finale. Neil is going to be manning the bar because he has the perfect bartender’s temperament. Admit it, you can just picture him right now with a towel over his shoulder, making small talk with the weird neighbors who wandered into the yard, then pivoting quickly to making five margaritas and an Old Fashioned. Ben is going to be in charge of yard games, meaning he’s coordinating a cornhole bracket and badminton bracket at the same time. (He and Soly are also undefeated in bocce; seriously just try and take their belt.) Randy and Tron are the Social Chairs, wandering the party making sure everyone feels welcome, and letting them know where to get a drink, what’s being offered on the menu (which, by the way, Tron spent weeks curating) and how to sign up for the cornhole tournament. They’ll give a toast and thank everyone for coming later in the evening. I would probably roam the party and try to spell everyone in their job, making sure Cody gets a break from grilling steaks or that Neil doesn’t starve behind the bar. If necessary, I could do dumb impressions to entertain everyone’s kids.

Tuck_mulligan: You touched on some of the reasoning behind going from a respected contributor at an enormous institution to an editorial leader at a relative upstart when you officially joined NLU. Now that you have a few months of writing published for the latter, what has surprised, delighted, or inhibited you in the writing/editing or creative process?

Is there newfound clarity in editorial control or do you feel like confidence to guide the NLU “voice” is still a muscle that you just have to exercise before you’re ready to fully trust it?

One of the things I like best about writing for NLU is what a collaborative space we have. Ideas can come from anyone, and we’re all invested in each other’s success.

At the U.S. Open a few weeks ago, Soly, Tron and I were watching Rickie Fowler and Jordan Spieth goof around with their kids on the 9th green during a Tuesday practice round when Soly said to me: “It would be really cool if you wrote a scene-driven piece like you did at Riviera, and you included this scene in it.” It wasn’t an assignment, it was a suggestion, and it was a great one. It helped me begin to think about 

 might look like, and I think it resonated with a lot of people.

There are advantages to working for a major institution like ESPN; more people are going to read your work. But I also don’t have to try and appeal to a broad audience of readers. I’m writing for people who like golf, who feel emotionally invested in the characters, and who want something beyond what they saw on television. That’s a fun place to start when you sit down in front of a laptop. At the PGA, Tron said to me “I would love to read a piece about what it’s like to play golf in miserable weather like this.” I quickly got to work on it, 

and it turned into something fun and different.

 Those kind of ideas interest me way more than writing about the first-round leader.

I don’t feel inhibited by anything other than time. I’d love to work on a big narrative feature, the kind I used to write for ESPN about players or executives in the NFL. We just haven’t found the right subject and the time to do it yet, but we’ll get there.

Is there an NLU Voice? That’s an interesting and smart question. Because the written word carries a lot of weight, I do feel a certain responsibility when I pen a column. I’m trying to convey my own opinion, but also represent our company and its ethos. One thing I love is that D.J. has an incredible ability to help me flush out how I’m feeling about a topic, and he doesn’t care if I need some time to work through it. 

The “Disease of More” piece I wrote after the framework agreement was announced is a good example.

 I needed 36 hours to piece together what I wanted to say. I talked to him multiple times during the writing process. When I finished, I felt really good about where I’d landed and so did he. It got more positive reactions than just about anything I’ve written in my career. I don’t know if I would have been afforded that patience at another place. One of the reasons ESPN took me off golf coverage is, they wanted someone who could turn columns around quickly, to maximize the window of reader interest. Speed is not my strength as a writer.

There are people in the golf media space who have to live and die by the clicks game and I can’t tell you how grateful I am that I’m not one of them. We don’t even have any digital advertising on my stories, so whether my pieces get 100,000 clicks or 1,000 clicks makes zero difference to us. That’s why I occasionally wrote columns as Twitter threads earlier this year before that site became a wheezing dumpster fire. Hopefully, if you like my writing, you’ll want to listen to our podcast or watch our videos. Not every element of a business needs to be driven by trying to monetize the consumer. If there is one part of our creative process I’m most proud of, it’s that.

KVV Mailbag: Sportswashing, 'Drink Fingers' and Hamilton

A quick reminder: You need to be a member of The Nest to submit a question to the mailbag, but the mailbag itself will be free to read (as long as you behave yourselves). Most of our questions are submitted via our message board, The Refuge, but if you’re not a message board person, please send me an email at kvv@nolayingup.com with your Nest handle and your question. If your question gets picked, we’ll send you a free NLU towel.

Manhattan: You get to play an 18 hole pro-am with one professional golfer of your choice. It’s a true alt-shot format. The field is filled with other notable pros and capable amateurs, and if you don’t finish top 5 you both have to give up golfing for 5 years.

Who is your current active player pick? Who is your historical choice?

—2000 Tiger, hope he doesn’t rip your throat out after you spray one in your 6 hours together?

—2004 Phil, hope his creativity, positivity, and overall game keeps you close enough to in contention that he doesn’t mail it in for the last 4 holes?

—2014 Rory, and assume at minimum some sort of back-door top 5 will happen? Some historical version of Jack, Arnie, Seve? Or someone else?

This question has haunted me since I read it, particularly with the current state of my short game. The burden of having a great player’s career in my hands is a heavy one. Do I choose based on skill set? What about a personality fit? And what course are we playing? I have been wrestling with it for days. I would love to play golf for the next five years so I can’t even go full troll and pick a player I loathe just to potentially keep him from the game. This is true nightmare fuel.

Before I choose, I want to address your historical examples. I think peak-Tiger is an interesting answer because I suspect he’s the player most likely to overcome whatever garbage shots I threw at him. And as great as he was, no one has ever been better in the history of golf at turning what should be 5s into 4s. HOWEVER! — shoutout to my old colleague Stephen A. Smith — he’d also have the most to lose, and he’d likely stop speaking to me after the third time I skulled a chip across the green. Can you imagine the historical pressure I’d be under? Tiger won 8 majors between 2000 and 2005. If he and I couldn’t get it done, he’d spend five years of his athletic prime with little to do besides play NAVY S.E.A.L. I don’t think I want that on my conscience.

Phil would be interesting because, you’re right, he’d be the most encouraging. One underrated element of his career — and I suspect one of the reasons he’d felt underpaid for 30 years — is that no one has ever been better at ramping up the charm and enthusiasm when it comes to interacting with those who need to whip out their checkbooks. Watching Phil ham it up during various versions of The Match, cracking jokes, playing to the camera, hat-tipping the sponsors, but also encouraging and instructing Tom Brady when he was potentially unraveling, was a great window into this. He could make a 13-handicap feel like the next shot was going to be flush, even after three or four hosel shanks. Plus, his 2004 season is really underrated. I’d totally forgotten that he just barely missed the playoff between Ernie Els and Todd Hamilton in the Open Championship. He was in serious contention in four majors that year!

I’d love to pick Rory – can you imagine what I’d shoot from where he hits his drives? (Don’t hate, Randy. I’m just trying to project confidence.) Rory and I would also talk prestige television between shots to keep things light, and he would likely be more forgiving than some players when I left him in a brutal spot. Plus, if he had to sit out of golf for five years, it would not emotionally cripple him the way it would some players. I wouldn't be ruining his life. Hell, he could go to college or write a novel.

The correct answer here, however, is Jordan Spieth.

To paraphrase Bane in The Dark Knight Rises, I may think hitting nervy recovery shots from absurd places is my ally, but Spieth was born into that life. Molded by it. He didn’t see a green in regulation until he was already a man, and by then it was nothing to him!

I think Spieth has lived so much of his life in the golfing darkness, he would feel right at home with some of my misses. Plus, imagine our banter! We both talk a bit too much for our own good and could use a good editor.

It would be, at the very least, a spectacle.

Professorlefty: Which golf legends would definitely have gone to LIV?

It pains me a little to say this, but I think Seve would have 1000 percent gone to LIV. In a different lifetime, he probably would have played the Mickelson role. Remember, Seve spent the better part of his career extremely frustrated at the European Tour, 

 for the value he brought to events in Europe. (He was almost certainly correct.)

I think he would have also seen LIV as an opportunity for him to be a showman. The team concept likely also would have appealed to him. He wanted appearance fees, but the European Tour wouldn’t allow them (much like the PGA Tour) and that’s essentially what LIV’s financial model is. I suspect he also would have loved pushing back on reporters over the whole thing.

I haven’t heard it referenced much in this debate, but the issues surrounding LIV aren’t so different from the issues raised in the 1980s when South Africa was hosting lucrative golf tournaments despite the fact there was an international sporting boycott to protest Apartheid. In 1981, five of the world’s best golfers (Seve, Johnny Miller, Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player and Lee Trevino) competed in a golf competition at Sun City, South Africa. Miller won the top prize of $500,000, which was an enormous sum considering Tom Watson got $60,000 that year for winning the Masters.

Some people's primary motivation is money. The suffering of others doesn’t factor much into their calculus. Gary Player’s argument — at least after he went woke, by today’s standards — was that he was trying to bring about change through dialogue and participation.

“I really don't understand how you can say that you must penalize an athlete for the policies of his country's government,” Player told the New York Times in 1979. “I mean, what would Americans have said if somebody had suggested keeping Jack [Nicklaus] or Arnold [Palmer] out of the British Open because of the war in Vietnam? Besides, if you're going to talk human rights, why stop at South Africa? What about the Russians, the Cubans, some of the black countries in Africa?”

As you can see, the WhatAbout Caucus has existed for many years, and will likely be around indefinitely. Their arguments would resonate more if they wanted to actually discuss human rights everywhere, but mostly what they want is for people to stop talking about any of it so they can count their blood money without being annoyed by criticism. They don’t actually care about what’s going on in China; the misdirection is the point.

So while I can’t say for sure who would have gone to LIV or their reasons for doing so, those trips to South Africa at the height of Apartheid offer at least a clue.

Dmcpherron: How many strokes is a good caddy worth to a pro? What about an amateur? Do we undervalue or overvalue caddies?

Your film room playing lesson really got me thinking about the true value of having a true pro be there for every shot. I’ve played with caddies a couple of times and always felt like I this value is way higher then we truly believe.

I think we overvalue certain things about them, but undervalue others. I think caddies often become an easy punching bag when players don’t play well. It allows us to call for change, deflecting some of the blame from the player. Rory experienced a lot of this with J.P. Fitzgerald early in his career. Everyone wanted Fitzgerald gone and assumed as soon as he was, McIlroy would win more majors. Six years later, McIlroy and Harry Diamond have had a lot of success, but no majors. It doesn’t mean it was the wrong move, it just means the caddie is only part of the equation.

Most people in golf believe that Steve Williams is the greatest caddie ever and that he truly did know how to save a shot per round. But how many majors would Tiger have won with a different caddie? The same is true of Bones. I think Jim “Bones” McKay is a truly great caddie, easily one of the best ever, and yet he was on the bag for some of the most memorable major collapses in history. Would any caddie have been able to talk Mickelson out of hitting driver on 18 at Winged Foot? Or convince him to hit his second shot way right of the green instead of trying to carve it around the tree, at least getting him into a playoff? I think Mickelson was likely going to make those decisions no matter what. That’s his nature.

I used to think Dustin Johnson could benefit from having someone other than his brother on the bag, but here is the reality: He won two majors with Austin, and zero with Joe LaCava, one of the best caddies in the game, who was on his bag for four years. Sometimes comfort is better than logic.

In the end, the caddie can be a therapist, a strategist, or a motivator, but if the player is someone who doesn’t listen or is stubborn, they might as well be a donkey who can schlep a bag. The relationship needs to be collaborative.

I do think caddies can definitely help marginally-talented players like you and me because it takes our dumbest decisions off the table. As someone who makes a couple of dumb decisions per round — as you’ll see in an upcoming film room — that’s crippling when you do it.

I do love having a caddie at a course I’ve never played before, but sometimes I also feel added pressure in not wanting to let them down.

Because I don’t play golf competitively, I decided to tap in Soly for his thoughts here on what makes a good caddie, and why I wasn’t one. I actually caddied for him last year in our Nest Invitational Tournament, and we came up a little short and finished 2nd. I probably suffered from “Trying to do too much” syndrome, but it was a fun experience that we both took too seriously when we probably should have been pounding High Noons and enjoying ourselves more.

When I caddied for Hueber in a Monday qualifier, I got yardages, carried the clubs, raked the bunkers, and held the pin. I didn’t even help him with wind direction. Was there when he asked any question, but gave up nothing unprovoked because there was nothing I was going to pick up on that he was not.

The dynamic of having a caddie that is not the same level player as you is always difficult. Like, I’m sorry to say it KVV, but there’s just no shot in golf that I feel like I need your golf advice on. When Hueber tells me to add 10 to a shot into the wind, I know he’s compensating for whatever he feels like I need to compensate for, and also he has a massive amount of experience in judging what wind does to a well-struck golf shot. If I’m approaching a shot, and not asking for input on the club/yardage, a player does not want to hear “165 playing 175.” In my head, I already may be thinking it’s actually playing 180, but I need the loft of my 190 club to get through the wind, blah blah blah. But now it’s been put into my head that the wind isn’t as strong as I think, and it didn’t come from someone that knows it better than me. When caddying, it’s hard not to give advice to feel like you’re doing something. And as a player, you never wanna tell a caddie to do less, because then you’re just an asshole.

Rapport is the most crucial thing with a caddie, and it’s more important than the actual “skill” of the caddie. I can have a relatively quiet caddie that I find super helpful because I know when to ask for help, and he knows when to just let me do my thing. I hate getting a read that’s unasked for. I’m always gonna see what I see, and if I’m told something different than what I see, I’m gonna marry the two thoughts together and hit an uncommitted putt. Yet if it’s with a caddie I trust, it can obviously be super helpful to be saved by the local knowledge. At times even at the Gasparilla, I was calling Hueber off putts because I was putting so poorly and we just weren’t speaking the same language. Absolutely zero fault of his (I’ve had my hottest putting round ever with him on the bag), but I needed to just see my own read, trust it, and hit it. (It did not help).

My advice for the situation in the future is to be as in touch as possible with what your player needs from you, and maybe even ask your player on the first hole what it is they want. Do they want to be pumped up when things are going bad? Do they want you to ask them questions? Do they want you to give you what the wind is doing and where you see the putts are breaking even without asking? Do they want you to step in only if you see something jumping out at them that’s going wrong (slow your tempo down!)? All things that a player should be responsible for but rarely takes responsibility for. (Hand up here.)

 now in the books, what are your favorite and least favorite series finales from your favorite all-time shows and why?

 is probably my top spot. Just beautiful and weird and ambiguous. If more people had watched, we’d still be arguing over it, which is essential for great art. 

 has maybe my favorite walk-off line of any series. And Coach Taylor coming down the escalator to find his wife and ask matter-of-factly 

“Will you take me with you to Philadelphia, please?”

 in the Friday Nights Lights finale absolutely gutted me. It’s such an earned moment in five seasons of observing their marriage. A great series finale gives you callbacks to earlier seasons or characters, but it also surprises you and leaves you feeling like the writers had a plan and they honored the journey and the audience.

 ending but have grown weary of debating it over the years. To me, it doesn’t matter if Tony lives or dies at that moment, only that the rest of his life is going to be full of dread and anxiety.

 are obvious ones, but just thinking about them gets me worked up all over again. I could write (and have written, on our message board) thousands of words about these shows and why they dropped the ball with the game on the line like Lee Evans in the AFC Championship. But essentially my frustration with LOST comes down to this: Every story in history could end with “...and then they died and went to heaven.” It’s truly weak shit. The writers kept upping the ante on the story and when it got too big, they bailed rather than find a satisfying exit. Designing an intricately-plotted show and then saying “Psyche! It’s actually about your feelings and the friends we made along the way” was absurd.

Mailbags

Writing

KVV Mailbag: FedEx Cup Playoffs, Soup and Blockie

KVV Mailbag: The Open? Names, Venues and British Rock Bands

KVV Mailbag: Sportswashing, 'Drink Fingers' and Hamilton

KVV Mailbag: Early U.S. Open Talk, Caddies and TV Finales

KVV Mailbag: Early PGA Championship Talk, Parenting and Jason Isbell

KVV Mailbag: LIV and the majors, all-timers and sandwiches

KVV: What do we do about slow play?

KVV Mailbag: Masters Part Two

KVV Mailbag: Masters Part One

KVV Mailbag: The Rollback, Modern Journalism and The Wire

KVV Mailbag: The Swilcan Patio and The LIV Newsroom

August Mailbag

Ryder Cup Mailbag

January Mailbag, Part I

December Mailbag

October Mailbag

April Mailbag, Part I

Masters Mailbag

February Mailbag, Part II

NLU December Mailbag