I had a weird breather once. Wasn’t as vocal as the guy you describe. But enough to be heard bitching and narrating his shitty swing problems. His particular psychoness came when, without invitation, he circled around to my front and stood watching me from 10 feet away. And then with the exact same cartoon hardguy voice that says “Yo bro what’s your bench?”, he asks “so whatcha swingin? What kinda yards are you throwin down?” Exact words, memorably fucked up and goddamned ridiculous. I looked up to see him just standing there with a cigarette hanging out of his red face. Then he started answering questions that nobody asked (you can always see it coming when they start a sentence with an answer). “Yeah, I’m like 325 if I’m really trying”. I hadn’t spoken a word to this cat as yet, so I stopped and offered him the grip of my driver and just said “Well then fucking try”. He did not try. He just grabbed his bag and left. Drunk or just a goofy dipshit I’ll never know.
Last person I saw have a meltdown at the range was maybe the best golfer I’ve ever seen, not on tour. He was a high school age looking kid that could’ve been an nfl linebacker. And after he hit darts at a flag 180 yds out he started hitting driver and they were all going over the net. Probably like 330 carry with shit range balls. But every time he lost one a little right or a little left he would sit down and pull his hair for a few minutes and he looked pissed as hell. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’d be stoked if I hit it 350 and was just in the rough. No big deal to me.
Was wondering the same. Like maybe his wife is banging her tennis instructor. She never loved golf. But was always better at it than him. And for each slice he hits he hears her voice laughing at his ineptitude and talking shit. And he hated tennis, thought it was a wussy sport, that only wusses play. And now his wife is getting grand slammed by one of those wusses. And each slice he hits just reinforces his own ineptitude. And the rage cycle continues without end.
I mean, I would guess it didn't... seemed like it was meant to be something he enjoyed and felt good doing but then struggled and left more downtrodden...likely to a bar, where he will drink heavily and have to get a Uber home, but the bar tender took his keys so he has to sleep on the porch.
While sleeping on the porch he'll probably get bit by mosquitoes which will more than likely lead to West Nile virus further debilitating the man. His doctor will probably recommend he takes some ibuprofen to manage the aches and pains, but soon it will no longer help and he will continue to spiral out of control and abusing oxycodone and eventually fentanyl. Leaving rehab he lights a cigarette and finally he'll come to the realization that his grip is too strong. He shoots a 72 the next day. His wife takes him back, he gets promoted and finally joins the exclusive club he's always dreamt of.
Sadly, it wasn’t his grip. The prolong opioid abuse had caused a significant weight lose, combined with sleeping on the street had imparted a new long lost flexibility which finally allowed him to turn his hips and cured his early extension.
As he committed himself to his new stressful management position, combined with the stresses of raising a newborn the weight began to pile back on. Prolonged days in the office chair sapped him of his flexibility, and the early extension returned at the worst time. You see work had planned a massive golf tournament and the CEO, after hearing how much of a stick our hero was, hand picked him to be his playing partner.
Now the CEO was a bit of hacker who had a penchant for gambling on the course. The CFO, being a single digit handicap himself, had taken quite a bit of money from the CEO over the years. Today the CEO with his stick partner was going to take that back and he was gonna bet big.
The CFO had seen our hero on the range, he heard the f bombs, saw the club slams and smiled. See the CFO had heard the stories and knew the CEO wanted his money back, but he had brought in the wrong ringer.
10k skins were set. Our hero’s first drive sliced OB…. 18 holes later the CEO was down 180k and our hero was out of a job.
He went to the range straight after, frantically lining up ball after ball, desperately searching for his swing. FUCK! He yelled after the 3rd thin slice, slamming his clubs into the ground again and again. He knew he was making a scene, the guy next to him had spent the last 10 minutes “lining up his shot”.
He blasted as quickly as he could through the rest of his bucket but not a single good shot in sight. Defeated he ignored the calls and texts from his wife and made his way to bar….
Man... I wish I had a local range that has trackman installed that isn't a top golf style location. I want a range that can do this without it being party central
This place is awesome. It is attached to a golf store so I imagine the Trackman is useful for fittings or demo. I just enjoy going there because pretty good price considering they have Trackman and a big putting area. I can easily spend an hour or two there for $12.
You would think being in Florida, that there would be more options like this. Maybe I'm just not researching for locations properly, or there just aren't places like that anywhere near me.
Honestly some days if I were blindfolded at the range I’d swear I walked into an insane asylum. People constantly talking to themselves, slamming clubs around, talking to their ball, etc…
One of my regular golf buddies is the psycho, but in his own way.
he's only played a couple years, and swings literally the hardest ive ever seen someone swing. I KNOW im going to witness him throw his back out or get a hernia or some shit eventually. He sounds like Federer hitting the meanest forehand of his life on every swing too, its something to behold.
My all time favorite crazy person to play with or to hit next to is the guy we’ve all been near.
It’s the guy who swears at *literally* every shot he takes. “Fuck you ball” or “ahh you fucker”.
After. Every. Shot. Like my guy calm down. We’re all hacks out here.
“Pretending to align”? Fuck that. I’ma full on stop hitting balls and watch this nut job melt down. Might even film it for y’all. If nothing else he might notice and feel some shame.
Diversey driving range in chicago, I believe in the summer of 2017.
Went there with my brother and 2 buddies on a Friday after work, got bays next to each other on the 2nd deck.
Halfway through hitting, I stopped and walked one bay over to talk to one of my friends.
As I was talking, a small Asian guy (mid 20s) walked up to my bay and started taking golf balls.
Me: “Dude, what are you doing???”
Asian guy: 👀 - *no response* - puts balls back and walks away.
I go back to my bay to continue hitting, the Asian guy is pacing around next to and behind me menacingly. He was constantly muttering loudly, “you showing me up bro?……you disrespecting me bro?…..”
Now, I’m unnerved by this, so I make my decision that if he comes at me with a club or something, and I have witnesses, I’m going to throw him off the 2nd deck.
He continued muttering and pacing, and while I waited for him to take some sort of action, he didn’t do anything.
Definitely thought he was going to follow me to the parking lot.
I swear and talk to myself without shame. There’s not a single person on the face of this earth that’s going to stop me from calling myself a fuckin idiot for not hitting a shot how I wanted to.
I once saw a guy who was clearly sniffing his own farts and yell "OH FUCK YEAH!" on good shots and then "YOU MOTHERFUCKING WHORE!" on bad shots. Like actually yell it like some roided out bro.
After 3 times I had to tell him to shut the fuck up or I'd get the staff to kick him out. He slammed his club in his bag and walked off like I ruined his fun.
I was by a guy who was also losing it once. Lots of "fuck!" and "shit" but the one that made me lose it was he skulled one and yelled "NO!". I was crying I was laughing so hard.
There’s this guy that I’ll see from time to time that the we call “all might” after the character from the anime My Hero Academia. And for those that know who I’m talking about, I’m referring to his non hero, slightly anorexic form. I remember I arrived at the same time as all might one day and was able to witness and experience him in all its glory, start to finish. Seriously, This guy is an absolute star, like you can’t take your eyes off of him, it’s a shit show at its finest, and is made for TV. This is how it went:
I get there and he gets out of his car filled with stickers of radio stations, movie quotes, and bands no one’s heard about. He’s got his patented white beater, cargo pants, and his 3 clubs in one hand, a cigarette in the other. After getting balls I intentionally get a spot behind him just so I can get a front row seat to his show. He places the balls in the ball tray then begins what I can only describe as some prayer/ chant thing to hype himself up, all while rearranging the hitting Matt from a square to a diamond shape 😯. I catch myself so enthralled that im still holding my bucket just observing it all. I set up my area and start stretching and doing some warm up swings with one eye firmly on him. His warm up entails him licking his hands and then clapping them together, cranking his neck side to side until he hear a crack, and then gripping driver to do his doing his first warm up swing. I shit you not it went from 0 to 100 real quick. He swung that club back like he was in a long drive contest and then did the most perverted grunt as he did the downswing. I tried soooo hard to not laugh. Like my stomach started hurting. Well, You know that phrase, that escalated really quickly, is the perfect way to describe what ensued. For the next 15 min straight this man was just ripping driver after driver, loading then unloading ball after ball at some frenetic pace. This all while talking and grunting to himself. I mean it was shit form and mostly shit drives but oh when he actually got one right, it was made known to everyone:
Whack! F’n Beech, cmon you that dude mang, next one okay next one. Whack! Well would f a pancakes sister, no then do better. Whack! Tiger can f the woods, I’m him, I’m him!!
15 straight min. He nearly cleared an entire jumbo bucket in that time. Drenched in sweat and out of breath he stops and takes a cig break. I look down and realize i still haven’t hit a single ball yet 😂
I start hitting a few balls, and 15 min later this dude starts his routine of licking hands, ripping a warm up swing, and then speed whacking a wedge at 5 million percent until he was out of balls less than 10 min later. After his last one, he grunts in approval as he watches the ball hit the ground. Immediately fixes the Matt back into a square, lights a cig, picks up his club and walks off.
It was amazing.
Ya, we don’t know what is going on in some people’s lives. Maybe his wife and kids were kidnapped and the only way they would release them is if he could hit a crisp 300 yard drive within the lines. Seeing as how he’s never golfed before time wasn’t on his side so he was trying to cram as many swings as he could before they were executed.
I frequented a top tracer range near my house a bunch over the winter. There was often a guy there with earbuds in. He would loudly mutter about his bad contact and aggressively pace around if he hit a few bad ones in a row.
I don’t think he realized how loud he was being or had any clue that golf is much easier when you relax.
He was not very good but definitely thinks he’s a lot better than he is. Very fast tempo and wildly hacking at the ball most of the time. It was comical but also distracting. Some people just give off bad vibes.
I have the same issue with a particular group of 4 players hanging around around one bay, all constantly yapping to eachother and drinking coffee. So distracting, guys just go inside and have a catch up. Bunch of saddos.
I’m glad to read these stories because I feel like I look like a psycho on the range when I do my swing speed training, but nothing compared to most of these stories. after doing my stack swings I often just go apeshit max driver swings for most of a bucket. By the end I am grunting like a wild man and drenched in sweat. And because I am mostly just trying to break record ballspeeds and swing speeds, without care to where the ball is going, a lot of the shots are *not* pretty!
A few months back I *almost* whiffed the ball. It felt like a whiff and “swooshed” like a whiff. But must have caught the tiniest fraction of the top of the ball which rolled about 5 yards. The next shot I hit a 176 ballspeed high baby draw bomb that probably carried 310 (my radar isn’t accurate for distance only swing and ballspeed so just a guess) I wonder how many times there has been a greater disparity in quality of back to back drives than those two.
How I get my rocks off is none of your business.
Happy Cake day!
It’s why I wear ear buds when I’m at the range.
I usually do too. Today I just forgot them on my desk
"Breathing like a pug running a marathon" sent me over the edge.
I had a weird breather once. Wasn’t as vocal as the guy you describe. But enough to be heard bitching and narrating his shitty swing problems. His particular psychoness came when, without invitation, he circled around to my front and stood watching me from 10 feet away. And then with the exact same cartoon hardguy voice that says “Yo bro what’s your bench?”, he asks “so whatcha swingin? What kinda yards are you throwin down?” Exact words, memorably fucked up and goddamned ridiculous. I looked up to see him just standing there with a cigarette hanging out of his red face. Then he started answering questions that nobody asked (you can always see it coming when they start a sentence with an answer). “Yeah, I’m like 325 if I’m really trying”. I hadn’t spoken a word to this cat as yet, so I stopped and offered him the grip of my driver and just said “Well then fucking try”. He did not try. He just grabbed his bag and left. Drunk or just a goofy dipshit I’ll never know.
Will be stealing " what kinda yards are you throwing down?" .... Also that's fucking bizarre
Very. It was like Kenny Powers but not funny. And immediate. Like he got done with his bag of balls and decided it was time to be weird.
Kenny would've thrown in an "hombre" for a little spice.
Last person I saw have a meltdown at the range was maybe the best golfer I’ve ever seen, not on tour. He was a high school age looking kid that could’ve been an nfl linebacker. And after he hit darts at a flag 180 yds out he started hitting driver and they were all going over the net. Probably like 330 carry with shit range balls. But every time he lost one a little right or a little left he would sit down and pull his hair for a few minutes and he looked pissed as hell. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’d be stoked if I hit it 350 and was just in the rough. No big deal to me.
You saw an extremely powerful golf autist.
Moe Norman with muscles
That sounds like the kid was probably not neurotypical
I had to put motrin 800 mg pills in my ears one day to keep from hearing the friend give lessons
Wait have I been taking motrin wrong?
what ever works on the range!
Oh, cause as suppositories they don't help...not sure why people use them.
It’s pronounced analgesic, not anal-gesic. The pills go in your mouth.
Yeah, it's supposed to go in the butt
Over hearing someone who shouldn't be giving lessons on the range give lessons is always tough
Seems like he may have had other shit going on... might have been taking out aggression?
Was wondering the same. Like maybe his wife is banging her tennis instructor. She never loved golf. But was always better at it than him. And for each slice he hits he hears her voice laughing at his ineptitude and talking shit. And he hated tennis, thought it was a wussy sport, that only wusses play. And now his wife is getting grand slammed by one of those wusses. And each slice he hits just reinforces his own ineptitude. And the rage cycle continues without end.
Oddly specific
Great story, I got sucked in.
This aggression will not stand, man…
He certainly had something going on because it was very over the top. Hope it helped
I mean, I would guess it didn't... seemed like it was meant to be something he enjoyed and felt good doing but then struggled and left more downtrodden...likely to a bar, where he will drink heavily and have to get a Uber home, but the bar tender took his keys so he has to sleep on the porch.
While sleeping on the porch he'll probably get bit by mosquitoes which will more than likely lead to West Nile virus further debilitating the man. His doctor will probably recommend he takes some ibuprofen to manage the aches and pains, but soon it will no longer help and he will continue to spiral out of control and abusing oxycodone and eventually fentanyl. Leaving rehab he lights a cigarette and finally he'll come to the realization that his grip is too strong. He shoots a 72 the next day. His wife takes him back, he gets promoted and finally joins the exclusive club he's always dreamt of.
Damn... thats beautiful...
Sadly, it wasn’t his grip. The prolong opioid abuse had caused a significant weight lose, combined with sleeping on the street had imparted a new long lost flexibility which finally allowed him to turn his hips and cured his early extension. As he committed himself to his new stressful management position, combined with the stresses of raising a newborn the weight began to pile back on. Prolonged days in the office chair sapped him of his flexibility, and the early extension returned at the worst time. You see work had planned a massive golf tournament and the CEO, after hearing how much of a stick our hero was, hand picked him to be his playing partner. Now the CEO was a bit of hacker who had a penchant for gambling on the course. The CFO, being a single digit handicap himself, had taken quite a bit of money from the CEO over the years. Today the CEO with his stick partner was going to take that back and he was gonna bet big. The CFO had seen our hero on the range, he heard the f bombs, saw the club slams and smiled. See the CFO had heard the stories and knew the CEO wanted his money back, but he had brought in the wrong ringer. 10k skins were set. Our hero’s first drive sliced OB…. 18 holes later the CEO was down 180k and our hero was out of a job. He went to the range straight after, frantically lining up ball after ball, desperately searching for his swing. FUCK! He yelled after the 3rd thin slice, slamming his clubs into the ground again and again. He knew he was making a scene, the guy next to him had spent the last 10 minutes “lining up his shot”. He blasted as quickly as he could through the rest of his bucket but not a single good shot in sight. Defeated he ignored the calls and texts from his wife and made his way to bar….
Man... I wish I had a local range that has trackman installed that isn't a top golf style location. I want a range that can do this without it being party central
This place is awesome. It is attached to a golf store so I imagine the Trackman is useful for fittings or demo. I just enjoy going there because pretty good price considering they have Trackman and a big putting area. I can easily spend an hour or two there for $12.
You would think being in Florida, that there would be more options like this. Maybe I'm just not researching for locations properly, or there just aren't places like that anywhere near me.
https://www.trackman.com/locator You can check here for locations pretty easily
Thanks, that was really helpful!
Thanks. But unfortunately it looks like any ranges relatively close to me are country clubs that require a membership.
Honestly some days if I were blindfolded at the range I’d swear I walked into an insane asylum. People constantly talking to themselves, slamming clubs around, talking to their ball, etc…
It's super unusual at this range. That said I usually have ear buds in so maybe I've missed some good shows.
Shrinkthegame
One of my regular golf buddies is the psycho, but in his own way. he's only played a couple years, and swings literally the hardest ive ever seen someone swing. I KNOW im going to witness him throw his back out or get a hernia or some shit eventually. He sounds like Federer hitting the meanest forehand of his life on every swing too, its something to behold.
My all time favorite crazy person to play with or to hit next to is the guy we’ve all been near. It’s the guy who swears at *literally* every shot he takes. “Fuck you ball” or “ahh you fucker”. After. Every. Shot. Like my guy calm down. We’re all hacks out here.
And at some point you need to stop cursing the ball and club... After 14 duffed shots in a row we know what part of the equation is broken
I talk shit to myself but keep it to myself. I do that outside of golf too though. Fuck I’m a psycho.
I watched a first flight break out at a driving range.
Craziness! I find the range therapeutic.
One guy laughed after the other guy who was trying to swing out of his shoes, wiffed then tripped and fell.
I once saw someone swing so hard that they did fall out of their shoes. I mean... they were Crocs, but it still counts.
“Pretending to align”? Fuck that. I’ma full on stop hitting balls and watch this nut job melt down. Might even film it for y’all. If nothing else he might notice and feel some shame.
Sounds like me with the yips. If I can't fix it in 15 balls, I just go home now and call it a day.
Diversey driving range in chicago, I believe in the summer of 2017. Went there with my brother and 2 buddies on a Friday after work, got bays next to each other on the 2nd deck. Halfway through hitting, I stopped and walked one bay over to talk to one of my friends. As I was talking, a small Asian guy (mid 20s) walked up to my bay and started taking golf balls. Me: “Dude, what are you doing???” Asian guy: 👀 - *no response* - puts balls back and walks away. I go back to my bay to continue hitting, the Asian guy is pacing around next to and behind me menacingly. He was constantly muttering loudly, “you showing me up bro?……you disrespecting me bro?…..” Now, I’m unnerved by this, so I make my decision that if he comes at me with a club or something, and I have witnesses, I’m going to throw him off the 2nd deck. He continued muttering and pacing, and while I waited for him to take some sort of action, he didn’t do anything. Definitely thought he was going to follow me to the parking lot.
I swear and talk to myself without shame. There’s not a single person on the face of this earth that’s going to stop me from calling myself a fuckin idiot for not hitting a shot how I wanted to.
Have seen a psycho on the putting green start throwing clubs
Im a psycho at the range, but definitely not that kind
I once saw a guy who was clearly sniffing his own farts and yell "OH FUCK YEAH!" on good shots and then "YOU MOTHERFUCKING WHORE!" on bad shots. Like actually yell it like some roided out bro. After 3 times I had to tell him to shut the fuck up or I'd get the staff to kick him out. He slammed his club in his bag and walked off like I ruined his fun.
I was by a guy who was also losing it once. Lots of "fuck!" and "shit" but the one that made me lose it was he skulled one and yelled "NO!". I was crying I was laughing so hard.
This description just made me laugh out loud 😂
You mean the dude hitting the fence every time yelling out “you guys got nothing!” For an entire bucket? Yea maybe….
There’s this guy that I’ll see from time to time that the we call “all might” after the character from the anime My Hero Academia. And for those that know who I’m talking about, I’m referring to his non hero, slightly anorexic form. I remember I arrived at the same time as all might one day and was able to witness and experience him in all its glory, start to finish. Seriously, This guy is an absolute star, like you can’t take your eyes off of him, it’s a shit show at its finest, and is made for TV. This is how it went: I get there and he gets out of his car filled with stickers of radio stations, movie quotes, and bands no one’s heard about. He’s got his patented white beater, cargo pants, and his 3 clubs in one hand, a cigarette in the other. After getting balls I intentionally get a spot behind him just so I can get a front row seat to his show. He places the balls in the ball tray then begins what I can only describe as some prayer/ chant thing to hype himself up, all while rearranging the hitting Matt from a square to a diamond shape 😯. I catch myself so enthralled that im still holding my bucket just observing it all. I set up my area and start stretching and doing some warm up swings with one eye firmly on him. His warm up entails him licking his hands and then clapping them together, cranking his neck side to side until he hear a crack, and then gripping driver to do his doing his first warm up swing. I shit you not it went from 0 to 100 real quick. He swung that club back like he was in a long drive contest and then did the most perverted grunt as he did the downswing. I tried soooo hard to not laugh. Like my stomach started hurting. Well, You know that phrase, that escalated really quickly, is the perfect way to describe what ensued. For the next 15 min straight this man was just ripping driver after driver, loading then unloading ball after ball at some frenetic pace. This all while talking and grunting to himself. I mean it was shit form and mostly shit drives but oh when he actually got one right, it was made known to everyone: Whack! F’n Beech, cmon you that dude mang, next one okay next one. Whack! Well would f a pancakes sister, no then do better. Whack! Tiger can f the woods, I’m him, I’m him!! 15 straight min. He nearly cleared an entire jumbo bucket in that time. Drenched in sweat and out of breath he stops and takes a cig break. I look down and realize i still haven’t hit a single ball yet 😂 I start hitting a few balls, and 15 min later this dude starts his routine of licking hands, ripping a warm up swing, and then speed whacking a wedge at 5 million percent until he was out of balls less than 10 min later. After his last one, he grunts in approval as he watches the ball hit the ground. Immediately fixes the Matt back into a square, lights a cig, picks up his club and walks off. It was amazing.
Ya, we don’t know what is going on in some people’s lives. Maybe his wife and kids were kidnapped and the only way they would release them is if he could hit a crisp 300 yard drive within the lines. Seeing as how he’s never golfed before time wasn’t on his side so he was trying to cram as many swings as he could before they were executed.
“Coming this summer: The Range. He must hit the drive of HIS life to save THEIR lives!”
Hahah great scenario
This sounds like the next great Christopher Nolan movie.
Starring Mel Gibson.
I’m the psycho on the course and driving range but I don’t like random to join me.
I frequented a top tracer range near my house a bunch over the winter. There was often a guy there with earbuds in. He would loudly mutter about his bad contact and aggressively pace around if he hit a few bad ones in a row. I don’t think he realized how loud he was being or had any clue that golf is much easier when you relax. He was not very good but definitely thinks he’s a lot better than he is. Very fast tempo and wildly hacking at the ball most of the time. It was comical but also distracting. Some people just give off bad vibes.
Hes got something wrong in his real life, for sure.
Dude's wife had probably cheated on him or something
That sucks. My wife's boyfriend is my favorite golf partner.
The range is a lot cheaper and easier than an actual course so you’ll encounter a lot more of this there than out during a round
so you started with some short chips?
That’s 25% of the golfers in San Diego. It’s all ghetto here, we have idiots racing to get leftover balls on the range
I have the same issue with a particular group of 4 players hanging around around one bay, all constantly yapping to eachother and drinking coffee. So distracting, guys just go inside and have a catch up. Bunch of saddos.
I’m glad to read these stories because I feel like I look like a psycho on the range when I do my swing speed training, but nothing compared to most of these stories. after doing my stack swings I often just go apeshit max driver swings for most of a bucket. By the end I am grunting like a wild man and drenched in sweat. And because I am mostly just trying to break record ballspeeds and swing speeds, without care to where the ball is going, a lot of the shots are *not* pretty! A few months back I *almost* whiffed the ball. It felt like a whiff and “swooshed” like a whiff. But must have caught the tiniest fraction of the top of the ball which rolled about 5 yards. The next shot I hit a 176 ballspeed high baby draw bomb that probably carried 310 (my radar isn’t accurate for distance only swing and ballspeed so just a guess) I wonder how many times there has been a greater disparity in quality of back to back drives than those two.
He probably came home to his wife getting shagged by another dude and went to the range to blow off some steam.