Look for the last two years I have been this guy’s biggest fan. His run in 2015 was unbelievable. While it wasn’t the sought-after year grand slam, he won two majors, came in 2nd in a third and was a shot off a playoff in the 4th. He was America’s golden boy, the person to carry American golf back to the forefront. He is dating his high school sweet heart and has a special needs sister he is heavily involved with. He was the one accomplishing what Ricky and Dustin couldn’t do. But finally, after this weekend, I’m done with him.
Let’s start with how he continually barks at his caddie. Originally, I admired this as a conversation of two team members plotting their way towards victory. The outspoken and explosive Spieth and his mild mannered, calming rock Michael Greller making their way around the golf course. Now, I am so sick of listening to him berate this poor dude on his bag. I’ve been there as a caddie. And I get after you chunk a 9 iron that costs you a 7 on a par 3 you want someone to blame. But shit dude, I didn’t make the swing, I’m just here to give you a yardage and fill your divots. So, shut the hell up and take some of the blame.
Speaking of taking some responsibility. After nubbing a 9 iron into the face of a bunker and having to play the same shot over doesn’t make it “the dumbest hole you’ve ever played in your life”. I mean bro, I’ve made a lot of doubles in my life. And yes, if you are playing a municipal club with the tee box lined up at a 90-degree angle to the fairway, that’s 420 yards long, a fairway 15 yards wide, with OB lining either side and you have to play your second out of a divot that hasn’t been filled into to a bunker that hasn’t been raked since the Eisenhower administration, you can bitch about how stupid a hole is. And yes, that hole exists and it’s not on a major championship course.
Finally, we can move on to what started this whole gripe. Him taking a picture of a poorly raked bunker at the Players Championship this weekend. Really, bro? Seriously? First of all, 12 shot penalty for breaking out your phone. It’s not spring break, and as much as I love snap chat, this isn’t your Saturday morning round with the boys with Toto’s Africa piping over the jambox. Which is probably what you were doing two days later since you didn’t make the cut you child.
I could tolerate all this immature nonsense if it wasn’t how much time he spent on TV. Not only am I forced to deal with his constant bitching because he’s popular but also because he’d be the slowest player on the golf course during a Sunday morning match. He’d be the dickhead grinding over a 3-foot putt in a 5 dollar Nassau and bitching when he missed it because there was a spike mark in his way. Like bro get over yourself and get back to playing golf.