Who Are These Professional Mini-Golf Nerds And How Can I Dominate Them In Putting/Life?

Holy hell. This guy maps out every geometrical nook and cranny on a mini-golf course like he’s fucking Will Hunting?

I mean, I respect Daywalker Nate here. He’s indeed an ubernerd and a master of his craft. But come on. It’s a total violation to scout out mini-golf courses. Just a slap in a face to the game. You gotta show up fresh before you grip and rip. Also a total violation to bring your own putter to the course. You play with the club you’re dealt, for better or worse. And it’s always worse.

Regardless, somebody find me these min-golf nerds and LET’S. DANCE. Mozart was born to compose. Tony Romo is here to choke. I was put on this Earth to do two things: Play Mario Kart 64 Breathe adequately and conquer in the realm of miniature golf. I’ve already got the first down pat, do I really need to prove I’m the greatest at mini-golf, too? Apparently so. So someone get me to Myrtle Beach for this shindig. You can’t be the best unless you beat the best. This is literally my Summer long thing down the shore. I schedule a tee-time for Pirate Island every Saturday for 10:30 am to take on the best of the best for fuck’s sake. There would be no survivors on the green. Look at this Nicklaus-like form.

Those shower sandals have seen some serious shit.

All those strip clubs in Myrtle Beach would be empty of all their talent by the time I’m done putting.

FYI: In case you’re new to the game, every Summer I challenge whoever has got the sack to play some skins at the shore. 6 solstice’s ago I put out the offer for the first time late in the Summer and went 2-0. Granted, one time it was against two 13-year-olds* and the other was vs some poor guy who played on crutches cause he got railed by a drunk driver a couple weeks before. Still, a win is a win is a win. For the past two years it’s been essentially taking candy from babies on the course from dozens of challengers. Nobody has been able to compete with the best. And how could they? I’m a Zen master out there. I know every twist, turn, and divot at every green up and down the South Jersey coast. The Polar Bear course in Stone Harbor. All of Sir Patrick Croce’s green domains. That place in Wildwood where you get a tetanus shot along with a scorecard. Game, set, match: Smitty. Every damn time. As always, if you want to dance with the devil by the pale moon light at the Jersey Shore put out the challenge @SmittyBarstool and we’ll see what we can do. Myself and Charlene will see you on the course.

PS – I once shot a 34 at the Pirate Island in Avalon when I was 12. No hardo but seriously hardo.

* – I was bored 3 Summers ago and threw out the challenge on Twitter and someone responded talking more shit than Ali in his prime. I simply told him I prove it on the green and I’d be at the Polar Bear course in Stone Harbor in 15 minutes. I get there and, sure enough, two 13-year-olds roll up on bikes talking serious smack. Legitimately never felt more awkward in my life…and for some reason I still played. I sweated through the entire 18 holes thinking Chris Hansen was going to pop out at any second. Still made them buy me milkshakes at Springer’s after taking them behind the woodshed. Figuratively. I think.