Paul Hickey: The reasons why golf loves a grinder

Based on the author’s interpretations and judgments of facts, data and events.

Author Tom Coyne said it best in his book “A Course Called Scotland.”

Tom Coyne’s book A Course Called Scotland

On the heels of Brian Harman’s Open Championship victory two weeks ago, described in many places including here, as a splendid display from a true mudder, it got me thinking about that aspect of this beautiful yet frustrating game.

It’s sheer difficulty. And those who can rise to the occasion. Especially when the wind and rain don’t let up.

The fortitude, stamina and luck required to simply finish in the top half of the field. That even when you have 120 of the best golfers in the world descend on a links course like Royal Liverpool, only one or two of them seem to be anything close to mastering their game over four days. Golf is hard.

“It was a lesson I had learned more than any other, to stick around until the good happened. It wouldn’t always be as dramatic as an ace or an eagle, but golf loves a grinder.”

— Author Tom Coyne in his book “A Course Called Scotland”

Golf does indeed love a grinder. And after writing books about walking all the way around Ireland and playing each and every course close to the coastline, and then doing the same with Scotland, Coyne should know a thing or two about grinding it out. I’ve never played a round with him, but in my mind he is definitely a grinder.

Golf loves a grinder in the same way that hockey loves a corners guy. And football loves a hobbled, concussed, limping quarterback.

Have you seen the Netflix series “Quarterback?” When you watch Kansas City Chief Patrick Mahomes, one of the series stars, you can’t help but think that he’s the NFL’s version of a grinder.

Grinders make pars, birdies and net birdies from anywhere. True grinders are never out of a hole until they are. Grinders are great match play competitors, because match play rewards momentum and not giving up.

In a quickly thrown together member-guest invitation or in a Ryder Cup style competition, think for a bit about that split second when you hear who your partner is going to be for the first time. If you’re a high handicapper your thoughts might go first to “what handicap is he?”

And be thankful if you’ve won the lottery with a single digit golfer. But for those in the know, who are regular in the pairs games, who go through club rosters with a fine tooth comb selecting partners for the 2-Man best-ball, you know.

You want a grinder as a partner. Handicap is almost irrelevant. And you know exactly who is one and who is not, sometimes even if you haven’t played with them.

For some reason in golf we tend to think of grinders as short game magicians only. But that’s not the full story. Not at all. As with most things in golf, you need to go deeper.

There’s 2-handicap grinders and 32-handicap grinders and grinders everywhere in between.

There’s way more grinders than mudders in these parts, as our relatively tame Ontario weather means virtually no one develops the skills and attitude necessary to be a true mudder.

Playing in April and October helps, but almost no one plays in the pouring rain anymore. Playing a lot in the U.K. helps, but one trip a year isn’t enough.

Those of you who’ve been to Bandon Dunes on the wet Oregon coast know that a couple weeks a year there would be perfect training.

Tom Watson is a Grinder. Tom Kite. Not. Arnold Palmer. Grinder. Jack Nicklaus. Grinder. Tom Weiskopf. Not. Jordan Spieth. Grinder. Justin Thomas. Not.

But you don’t have to stop there. Think about your own golf friend group. Your regulars. Grinder or not? When the chips are down, do they flop or thrive?

Sounds like the perfect drinking game on your next golf getaway. But please be kind.

Everyone wants to be a grinder, but only a few are. And only your friends and rivals know the truth.

And yes, John Druce, you are indeed a grinder.

Paul Hickey is a golf enthusiast who can be reached at [email protected]