Time to Turn Your Attention to Turnberry

I always wanted to be the definition of choke

As, I sit here and try to express myself in thoughts over 140 characters, I have decided that I will give you a break from the  all media coverage the most meaningful meaningless game in professional sports, the MLB All-Star Game, so that we can shift our focus to Turnberry, Scotland. The British Open is this weekend, and I am writing about it because our experiment to have Wanks MacGruber and Moose Knuckle produce offspring failed miserably (but I hear they thoroughly enjoyed it!). I will not, however, steal Moose Knuckle’s thunder and make some super-accurate pick of some golfer in the field whom nobody thought would make the cut, to win the tourny, only to be off by a stroke or two.  Instead, I will entertain you with high-brow dick jokes.

Whilst doing my research for this post, (and by research, I mean reading one article on ESPN reminding me to watch golf this week) I have learned something new about the British Open. Apparently, they have an affinity for American athletes who get too greedy too quickly and fail to reach their potential. This can be the only reason the trophy is named the Clarett Jug, for none other than former Ohio State running back Maurice Clarett. No? it’s the Claret Jug, not the Clarett Jug. Sorry, my mistake.

So, inevitably, once the media realizes that the British Open starts Thursday, we will be bombarded with numerous golf analysts, and pseudo-golf analysts wondering what Tiger’s chances are to get his Goose on in the Claret Jug. Will this be his first win in a major since coming back from knee surgery? It will be unbearable, even if you like golf. I can only hope I make it through this weekend without putting some foreign object through the TV.

This is one thing today’s media doesn’t understand about golf. Golf is a sport about hitting a golf ball and shutting the fuck up. There are reasons golfers don’t mouth off that often, the golf community hates John Daly, they hold silence signs around every tee and green, and they invented their own fucking clap (and no that’s not the fucking clap as in the gonorrhea). Today’s media and their “we have to over-talk about every non-headline until you stab yourself in the ears” mindset, really clashes with the spirit of golf in my opinion.

I don’t want the media putting these extra thoughts in my head about every possible storyline in the tournament. I want beer, salty snacks, and quiet while I root for someone to become the next Jean Van de Velde. I watch golf because A) I played in high school, B) I can drink beer while doing it, C) it bores most people so they can leave me the fuck alone and D) I can lay on the couch and nap three of four times in one afternoon. I don’t need any other active reasons to attempt to stay conscious the entire time.

If you want me to listen to your incessant jabber media talking heads, make this a competitive sport and fucking talk away. (if you ever click one fucking link in any single one of our posts you should click that one, because it is more worth your time than anything else we have ever posted. Ever. Also, I hate you for not clicking my other links because I know you don’t)

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