Fulminations on Full Swing
A sampling of gut reactions, projections and twinges
I’m sure some of you have gobbled it all down already, while others are savouring it one episode at a time.
On the third day that it’s been available, I’m four episodes into Full Swing.
So far, I’ve managed to avoid watching it during the day—it’s one of the good points of Catholic guilt. But once the dinner dishes are finished, it’s the only thing I wanna do.
I’ll admit that so far, I’ve only felt something stir inside me a few times, which is slightly disappointing—maybe it’s not you, Full Swing; maybe it’s me—but I’m hooked.
Anyway, here are some ramblings, which are mostly my gut reactions to the docu-series we’ve all been champing at the bit to watch:
The most impactful part of the first episode was listening to Mike Thomas talk about knowing when it’s time to be the coach and the time you have to be a father. I’m hoping sports dads all over took notes.
Still with Mike Thomas: when your kid is struggling, there’s nothing you can do; you’re dying inside. And when your kid is on the knife-edge of winning or losing a championship, you’re dying. Sheesh.
Funniest stick-the-knife-into-your-buddy-one liner goes to Jordan Spieth: “I was having an average season, then I won.” Followed by smirking sounds.
Watching Brooks Koepka and Ian Poulter smoulder and then descend into misery after missing a cut reminded me of a few memorable encounters that I had as a golfer writer in the 90s with PGA Tour players on a disappointing Friday. Most of them try to hide what’s going on inside, but their eyes give away anger, embarrassment, self-loathing, despair, resignation, and occasionally, acceptance, equanimity and even a wicked sense of humour.
I’ve never been a Brooks Koepka fan. I found him inauthentic, smug and just a dick, but just like all judgments that I make of other people, I was projecting my nonsense on him. I was feeling his pain as he struggled to regain the winning form that had deserted him. It reminded me that we never own golf.
The moment that I think most guys related to Brooks: His beautiful wife is showing him some sexy lingerie, and he’s thinking about his golf swing.
As we’ve seen with all these guys on Full Swing, when you get them away from the course and talking, they open up. The look on Poulter’s face when he was asked if he was going to LIV was hilarious.
As much as I loathe the Saudi involvement in LIV, I completely get why family guys like Poulter and others on the back nine of their career went to it.
Like Koepka, I feel like I know Poulty a bit better; he’s one helluva dad, and a guy I’d want to have a beer with. And yup, I loved watching his family having a riotous time on their private jet.
I’ve witnessed some reporters asking brilliant questions in news conferences in my day, but the fellow who faced off against Mickelson, Johnson and McDowell was as prepared as a veteran parliamentarian bent on skewering an opposition minister with a mix of irrefutably brutal data and ethical incongruencies delivered with articulate bluntness. We all heard the players’ ridiculous responses months ago; hearing the question that provoked them was delicious.
The show confirmed what-we-all-thought-but-didn’t-know-for sure: PGA Tour players say the f-word a lot.
Watching Rory, Colin and John sit at a table rehashing the tournament and the mundane details of their lives made me think how all golfers—regardless whether you’re a 36 handicapper or one of the best players in the world—talk the same language.
Joel Dahmen is a poster boy for how we rise and fall according to our belief system. Everyone can tell Joel that he has major-championship calibre game, but if he doesn’t believe it …
I was hoping for more palpations, lump-in-the-throat moments and chills from the series, but I was nervous watching Dahmen in last year’s U.S. Open. And I knew the result! Maybe it’s because Dahmen is the guy I relate to the most, and Dahmen and his caddie are wonderfully transparent in their love for each other.
I knew this, but the series reminded me that although some PGA Tour players fly in private jets, they gotta do regular-people things: JT overcoming a uncooperative self-pay station; Poulty hoofing his own bags; and Dahmen buying a couple of strollers.