The Small Victories of Men's Night

Before getting into the little things that make Men’s Night so enjoyable, let’s start with a quick recap of this past Wednesday. With September approaching, just a reminder that tee-off time will move to 6:00 PM starting next week.

This week saw a smaller turnout, with 20 golfers in total, but six skins were still claimed. Stephen David and Jason Gorrell took home $20.00 on Hole #5, while Darren Ostash and Logan McGonigal scored the biggest payout of the night with $98.13 on Hole #7. Nathan Maynes and Joe Shwaluk claimed $28.13 on Hole #8, and Phil Ostash and Derek Shamray earned $71.89 on Hole #9. Robin Kimpinski and Tyler McTavish picked up two skins, getting $28.13 on Hole #3 and $52.51 on Hole #6.

Ryden Lanouette posted the low round of the night with an impressive 36. Closest to the pin went to Stephen David on Hole #5 and Robin Kimpinski on Hole #9.

Now back to the small victories of Men’s Night. Let’s face it…not everyone can shoot a low score or win a skin. And don’t even get us started on the elusive hole-in-one prize. But as most people will tell you, the fun of Men’s Night isn’t always about the numbers on the scorecard. It’s about the small victories. The little things, that while not celebrated with a cheque, make the round feel like a win.

If you’ve finished your Wednesday evening round of golf with the same ball you started with, you know this is worth celebrating. Let’s be honest, most of us are not playing perfect golf. But somehow, you’ve managed to keep your ball out of the water, the trees, and the neighboring fairways. Well done.

Small victories can happen to anyone. For example, no matter your skill or ability, sometimes you just sometimes, you hit the perfect tee shot…straight, long, and on the money. You feel like you’ve unlocked some secret level of golf, and for those few seconds, you are a golf god. The rest of the round might be a train wreck, but that one perfect shot will keep you going for at least a few more holes.

Then there are those holes when your drive was mediocre, your first approach shot was chunked, and your third misses the green. Against all odds, you chip it in for par. That is a good feeling. This one is similar to the bad round that ends with hitting it closest on the ninth hole.

Another small victory is when you pull into the Club House with a score of 46 and find out you have the most snips in your group. Sure, your playing partners may have hit more good shots and scored lower, but you had just the right amount good luck to win the snip lead. Claiming a couple of loonies from the guy that shot 38 is a good feeling.

Searching for your golf ball can also lead to a small victory. You are in the woods and your ball is nowhere to be found. But wait, what’s that? A brand new Prov1. It’s like finding treasure in a swamp. You’re not sure who it belongs to, but there’s something deeply satisfying about pocketing that other ball while you’re looking for your own. Even if you find one of Brett Griffin’s balls, covered in mud, scuff marks, and a giant G drawn with a sharpie, it still feels good.

What other small victories do we experience on Men’s Nigh? One is when you manage to see the drink cart multiple times during your round. You just walked off hole #3 with a seven, you are feeling a little dejected, and then you see it…the old green Gator driven by Taylor coming toward the fourth tee box. With only 4 or 5 groups on Wednesday, we saw Taylor a lot.

Probably, my favourite small victory is those evenings where the weather is perfect. Not too hot, not too cold, no wind, and the sun still shining as you finish your round. That was the case this past Wednesday. It was one of those evenings that you wished the sun didn’t set and you could keep playing.

In the end, Men’s Night isn’t about the score. Sure, there those guys who shoot low or win skins. But for most of us, it’s the little victories that make the night special. 

The Bombers and the Boomers

I read something funny recently. It said, “You know you're getting older when you have home Advil and golf bag Advil.” That line hit a little too close to reality. It accurately describes me and more than a few people with whom I play.

In the context of this discussion, I will define us old guys broadly. It includes anyone over 40. That being said, most 40-year-olds would see me as an old guy. Interestingly, when I play the weekly senior interclub, I sometimes get called “kid”. I guess it is all a matter of perspective.

Last night, we had 25 golfers ranging in age from 20 to just over 70. The group included several players who might still be considered kids by some, as well as others who have grandkids.

For many of us veterans, it’s not uncommon to pop a little preventative ibuprofen before even swinging a club. It isn’t because we’re trying to get an edge, but simply because we’d like to finish 9 without being limited by our aches and pains. We also have a pre-round stretching routine, although calling it “routine” might be generous. Sometimes the stretching is to loosen up the hips and back, but more often than not, it’s to counteract the mysterious neck injury that we sustained by sleeping the wrong way the previous night.

Now, contrast this with the younger guys on the course. These are the flat bellies in their late teens or early 20’s who roll up to the first tee without any real warm-up or stretching. They just drop a ball on the tee, take a violent practice swing that makes your joints ache just watching it, and launch it 290 yards. Stretching for them is often accidental. If they reach for a tee in their back pocket, that’s their full-body warm-up.

And they’re fast, not just in swing speed, but in the way they move, talk, and play. They’re a whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm. To be fair, many of them play incredibly well. Some hit it really long. For others, you are never quite sure where the ball might end up, but when it’s good, it’s really good.

Among the older guys, some are rock steady with the pattern of fairways, greens, two putts, repeat. Darcy Kowalchuk s one of these old guys. He hits it as long as anyone and has a solid all-around game. He used these skills to claim this year’s ringer board championship with a score of –7.

Others can be a little more erratic, but you’ll often hear, “I used to hit it as far as those young guys before I strained my back while curling”. Some may not have the distance anymore, but they usually know how to get around the course without too much drama.

Last night, three skins were won by five old guys and one young guy. Keith Martin and Tyler McTavish took home $59.39 with a win on hole #2, Pete Ostash and Chris Hogg earned $40.01 on hole #4, and Jason Gorrell and Stephen David claimed the biggest prize of the night with $145.65 on hole #5. In case you don’t know, Chris Hogg is the young guy, although Nathan Maynes might think that he is an old guy.

Older players like to toss around classic lines like, “Drive for show, putt for dough.” It’s our way of reassuring ourselves after watching a 23-year-old fly the fifth green with a 185 yard eight-iron. Deep down, most of us would love to hit it as far as they do. Let’s be honest…hitting wedge into the eight green is a lot more fun than hitting a five-iron.

You can spot the generational divide before the first swing is made. You need only look at the fashion. The younger guys arrive looking like they’re filming an episode of a YouTube golf channel. They have tapered joggers, tour hats turned backwards, new gloves, and shoes so clean they look like they were just taken out of the box. The veterans? Let’s just say we lean into comfort. We often wear golf polos or T-shirts untucked or tucked into cargo shorts or jeans, John Deere hats from the 1990’s, and shoes we’ve been meaning to replace since Brian Mulroney was Prime Minister.

And then there’s the post-round ritual which illustrates another divide. The younger players are often ready to squeeze in another 9 before sunset or race off to wherever young people still have energy to go. Many of this crew depart quickly as soon as the skins are paid.

The older group moves a little slower. We are often discussing what painkiller pairs best with a spiced rum and ginger ale. We sit down with a familiar groan, recount every missed birdie putt, and confidently claim, “If my wrist wasn’t acting up today, I could have broken 40”. It’s mostly fiction, but it's our fiction, and we enjoy it thoroughly.

And that right there is the beauty of Men’s Night.

It’s not a competition between young and old. It’s a celebration of both. A timeless blend of youthful optimism and seasoned wisdom. One group plays with fire, the other with finesse. The young guys bring energy, ambition, and big swings. The veterans bring course knowledge, short games honed out of necessity, and an ability to improve quickly once a sufficient amount of aiming fluid has been consumed.

By the time everyone’s in the clubhouse, sharing drinks, laughs, and tales of near greatness, the differences fade. What remains is a shared love for the game, a mutual respect, and the understanding that Men’s Night is better when we play it together, across generations.

So, here’s to the bombs off the tee and the bump-and-runs. Here’s to Advil in the bag and Bluetooth in the cart. Here’s to the young guys who keep the game fresh and the veterans who keep their golf cart first ad kits fully stocked.

 

Fore! And Other Words That Are Sometimes Said on Men’s Night

Men's Night..the sacred tradition where grown men gather to play at least 9 holes with friends on a Wednesday night. It's a time of camaraderie, competition, and, of course, casual profanity.

I was away on Wednesday, so there may have been less off-colour language than a typical night. There were 40 golfers but only 39 paid. That used to make me want to curse, but this may have been the first time this year someone forgot to pay. I guess that's okay.

I am not sure how everyone’s round went. I am guessing Kendal Koroscil didn’t use any bad words given that he shot a 37.

There were no closest to the pins recorded. Unfortunately, the books didn’t get put out. Sorry for anyone who hit the green. You likely dropped an F-bomb when you saw that the clipboards were missing.

There were two skins won. Reegan Kominko and Keith Martin cashed in for $43.76 on #3. Scott Maynes or John Gill may have exclaimed a four-letter word in a positive way when they found out that they won $172.12 for #8.

Now back to the idea of profanity and golf. Let’s be real...it is a hard game. It requires precision, patience, and considerable self-restraint. But somehow, no matter how hard we try to stay calm, something happens on the course that tests our resolve. The moment we step onto the first tee, we're full of high hopes, and share comments such as “Good luck and have fun”. But those affirming thoughts are quickly replaced with other, less desirable words as our golf ball slices into the woods off the first tee.

You are just starting your official round, after some practice holes if you are lucky. You line up, take a deep breath, and swing the club only for the ball to head straight to the bush. And suddenly, like an uncontrollable reflex, out comes one the words that we all know too well.

If you find your ball or if you have better luck on #2, you can reset both your round and your mental state. But if your bad luck continues, often so does the profanity. And from that moment on, it’s like a swear jar at a 5-year-old’s birthday party: every hole, a new word, every shot, a new curse.

There are places at the local course that likely are more prone to profanity than others. The tee shot on #3, the second shot on #4, and the approach from inside of 120 yards on #7 are examples. But sometimes the frustration comes in unexpected places. You hit the green on #9 hoping for a share of the deuce pot but then three-putt. Or you have a straight four-footer to win several snips but your ball dives to the left inches from the hole.

We all know golf is supposed to be relaxing. It's an escape. It’s a chance to forget about work, responsibilities, and the fact that you might be skipping out on a family birthday or anniversary that someone had the nerve to schedule on a Wednesday. But golf is a game that gives and takes in equal measure. For every perfect shot, there’s another that decides to go in some wayward direction. And when it happens, it is easier said than done to keep calm and carry on.

But here’s the thing. No matter what happens, we still keep coming back for more. It’s like that one friend who swears he’s never drinking again every time he wakes up with a hangover. However, with golf, we return because there’s always that tiny, fleeting moment when everything aligns. You hit an amazing shot and someone in your group says “That’s why we keep coming back”. And for that brief second, it’s like you’ve unlocked the secret of the universe.

So, yes, Men's Night can involve some swearing, a few bad shots, and pretending that we can absolutely make a birdie on the final hole when we’re already 10 over par. But it’s also about the laughs, the jokes, and the bond that comes from a group of grown men collectively cursing their way through the game.

And after all that, when the round ends, the sun sets, and the golf carts are stowed away in sheds, the last words on our lips aren't curses. They’re usually something along the lines of “Same time next week?”

So, see you next Wednesday. Or maybe I will hear some of you yelling profanities tomorrow at night golf.

 

Nice Shot!

Men’s Night golf at Shoal Lake is generally a very common experience for most players. The fresh air, the opportunity to hang out with friends, and a chance to hit some balls.

But above all else, there’s that one three-word phrase that unites us week after week, regardless of skill, weather, or blood alcohol content. That phrase is “Nice shot, buddy.”

This comment likely carries more weight, more sarcasm, and more unspoken truths than any other in the sport of golf. And if you're reading this, you've probably said it at least once this week.

First there is the genuine “Nice Shot”. Every once in a while, someone in your group will stripe a drive right down the middle, stick an iron shot within a few feet of the pin, or drain a long putt. In these cases, a genuine “Nice shot!” may be heard. There’s a quiet moment of respect. A head nod. Maybe even a quick high five or a fist bump.

Some genuine “Nice shots” were likely heard on Wednesday, such as when Kendal Koroscil and Jason Gorrell hit it closest to the pins on holes 5 and 9. Or when Ken Lawn, Reegan Kominko, or Ryden Lanouette scored deuces, splitting the $58.13 pot. Ryden also had four birdies on his way to a 36 which was the lowest round of the night. That is a lot of “Nice shots”.

Chances are, at least one “Nice shot” was heard among the teams who picked up skins this week—Paul Lucas and Sonny Blackbird ($85.39 on #1), Darren Ostash and Ryan Merasty ($20.00 on #4), and Stephen David and Kendal Koroscil ($105.64 on #6).

Then there is the sarcastic nice shot, often the real backbone of Men’s Night. When this one is uttered, it is the verbal equivalent of a gentle nudge off the tee box. It’s usually used after someone tops a ball five feet, follows a great drive on #4 with a pull hook into the left trees, or accidentally hits a worm burner from 150 yards on #8 that ends up on the green. I got one of these sarcastic “Nice shots” when I hit my tee shot on #9 about half-way to the hole.

Next there is pity “Nice Shot”. This one usually shows up around hole 7, after someone has fought there way around the golf course for the first 90 minutes. They finally manage to hit a halfway-decent chip shot onto the green, and suddenly the group erupts like it’s the final putt at Augusta. You then hear things like “Nice shot man” or “There’s the Gorrell from last week”. No one is fooled. But the sentiment is nice. This is golf's version of a participation ribbon.

And finally, there is the accidental missed “Nice Shot!” We’ve all done this. You’re on autopilot and maybe checking your phone or looking at the pickleball courts from the fourth tee box. You aren’t not paying attention and someone swings. You hear contact and instinctively say, “Nice shot” only to look up and see the ball go into the trees on the fly. The damage is done. You’ve confirmed two things with your playing partner - that you weren’t even watching and still somehow overestimated his ability.

Here’s the truth. For most of us, golf isn’t an easy game. You make some good shots and you make some bad ones. And if we couldn’t laugh at ourselves, or more importantly, at each other, some of us may have snapped our clubs in half by June.

The constant chirping, the friendly jabs, the frequent “Nice shots”, they’re not signs of disrespect. They’re statements of belonging. It means you're in the group. You are liked enough to be genuinely complimented or trusted enough to be mocked mercilessly.

So next Wednesday, when someone slices their drive on #6 into the campground, lean into it. Put on your best poker face and say it with pride - “Nice shot, buddy.” Because in the end, golf isn't just about scores, it's about stories. And the best ones always start with a lie between friends.