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.