For those of us who love to watch professional golf (especially the major championships) zeroing in on who to root for often feels like a basic instinct. I know I can’t help it.
Too many times, however, I jump on a guy’s bandwagon only to find out later that he’s been coddled, massaged, pampered and hand-fed all his life by his wealthy, country club family like a giant slab of Kobe beef human.
And it bums me out every time.
It’s like finding out that the game is rigged. Especially because the whole time you could’ve been cheering on the player who sculpted his swing by collecting nickels he earned on his paper route in a sock drawer in hopes that on the weekend the sum would be enough for a modest bucket of balls at the sleazy, overrun driving range a country mile from his motorhome.
So I took the top 50 players on earth (according to the Official World Golf Ranking) and researched whether or not they came “from money”. Based on my findings, each is given a spoon, the value of the utensil’s metal simulates which one they had up their arse when they were born. Continue reading →
Other than my father, it’s pretty safe to say Steve Martin is my artistic/creative idol. Not to say I don’t admire loads of other artists’ work – I truly do – but in a lot of ways, it kind of all started with him.