50 years of spectacular failure on the fairways of the World
For over half a century, one man has travelled the golfing world armed with hope, new equipment, and a tragically unfounded sense of optimism — only to produce a highlight reel of mis-hits, ricochets, emotional collapses and near-diplomatic incidents.
Despite investing enough in golf lessons to fund the refurbishment of Augusta National’s locker room wing, he remains a danger to trees, spectators, marshals, passing wildlife and — on one regrettable occasion — a wedding party two fairways over.
His natural shot shape defies modern ball flight laws. His putting stroke has been compared to someone attempting keyhole surgery during a minor earthquake. His club selection is best described as divination.
From Surrey to St Andrews, Dubai to Cape Town, this is not a celebration of sporting glory — it is a forensic catalogue of how not to play the game millions consider relaxing.
A love letter to golf.
A hate letter to his own swing.
And a warning to future generations.