Another week of excess has finished at TPC Scottsdale, where the annual PGA Tour party at the WM Phoenix Open never fails to deliver an intoxicating spectacle.
Drinking alcohol while attending a golf tournament and watching professionals play their version of the game can be a sobering experience even for the most overly served patron. Drinking alcohol while playing golf is another kind of experience entirely. A tricky one.
Let’s be honest: most of us can’t really handle it that well. One of the most elusive features of a game filled with elusive features is the ability to achieve a state of “drinquilibrium” – the perfect balance of blood alcohol content that opens up the right level of unconsciousness needed to elevate one’s game without it devolving into a sloppy mess.
Clubs across Scotland from Panmure to Muirfield hail kümmel, a potent aniseed liqueur, as a “putting mixture” to be quaffed before a round to steady any nerves for the match ahead.
The notion that a little tipple can be the tonic for what ails the average hack is time honored. Clubs across Scotland from Panmure to Muirfield hail kümmel, a potent aniseed liqueur, as a “putting mixture” to be quaffed before a round to steady any nerves for the match ahead. A spirit taken in the proper spirit can certainly ease the tension of any opening tee shot.
Maintaining a delicate state of inebriated bliss, however, is a nearly impossible feat. Some have on occasion turned around disastrous rounds with just the right number of pints from the beverage cart maiden, when all the negative thoughts melt away and a string of languid swings and birdies suddenly materializes. But further sips (or even no more sips at all) can just as suddenly wipe out that moment of drinquilibrium, and the magic is gone. As Kenny Chesney sings, one is one too many; one more is never enough.
There was one day at Firestone Country Club when the South Course tortured my perfectly sober self with a round that featured zero pars or better. Naturally the afternoon scramble on the West Course devolved into a blur of vodka lemonades. Overly toasted with a little time before dinner, a few of us sneaked back out on the South armed with only 7-irons for a little wager on the first and ninth holes. Feeling no pain, I parred both. The club manager even applauded my long 7-iron putt for par before politely asking us to get off his course and back to the bar.
Frankly, alcohol is a pretty poor performance-enhancing substance. The recipe for achieving drinquilibrium changes day to day and golfer to golfer. It’s unattainable in the long term. A better inclination is to save the cocktails for the 19th hole. Or better yet, leave it for matches on a Punchbowl, Himalayas or Thistle Dhu, where no amount of drunken silliness will spoil a good putting contest among friends.
Moderation is the key, something the folks in Phoenix ought to seriously consider as they endure this morning after.
Scott Michaux
E-MAIL SCOTT
Top photo: Patrick Strattner. getty images
photo illustration: barbara Ivins-georgoudiou, ggp