There is no sport in the world except golf where somebody can’t do it, yet won’t stop playing.

I can’t ride a bull, so I don’t.

I can’t play hockey, so I don’t.

I can’t golf, yet I play twice a week.

This is the life of a deranged hack golfer.

As a form of court-ordered therapy, here is my diary of a hack. It is my innermost thoughts, opinions, and my unbridled feelings on the game of golf. I give the golf hacks out there this glorious gift because you need it. You need to understand you are not alone. Plus I have to do this to avoid a still fine and an annoying legal battle.

You are a bad golfer – a hack. Own it. I beg of you not to get lessons, it won’t help. It will frustrate you and destroy your self-confidence. Most importantly, it could send you into a blind rage of hate for your instructor and cause you to lash out at them with threats of death and the city judge and your therapist will order you to publish a diary – for example.

Enjoy the journey of a hack golfer!

Later idiots.