There comes a moment in every golfer’s life when one must face the truth. For me, it arrived with the demise of two zips. That’s all it took, two stubborn, broken zips on my trusty old golf bag, and I found myself hauling out the credit card to invest in a brand-new, sleek TaylorMade masterpiece. Pockets galore, compartments in abundance, and a strap that doesn’t cut into my shoulder like barbed wire. I was smitten.
But before I could debut my new acquisition, a reckoning was due. I had to confront the contents of the old bag, what stays and what goes.
A Golf Ball Hoard to Rival a Pro Shop
Let’s begin with the golf balls. Not a dozen. Not two dozen. Forty-nine. Yes, FORTY-NINE golf balls were buried in that bag. Some pristine, some battle-scarred, and a few so disfigured they might have been recovered from the bottom of a lake, because, in all likelihood, that’s exactly where I found them. I’ve never needed more than eight balls in a round, and that was at Carnoustie, in conditions that could best be described as biblical. So what on earth was I doing carting around enough ammunition for a weekend tournament?
Then came the tees. A rainbow of plastic and wood, snapped and whole, most of which I will never use. Seven pitchmark repairers, a dozen ball markers, and six gloves, four of which had more holes than function. Several fossilised chocolate bars and, somehow, a pack of cigars. I don’t even smoke cigars. Never have.
What began as a gear audit quickly morphed into a character study. My golf bag had become a time capsule of poor habits, false optimism, and snack-based amnesia.
Golf Bag Advice: Lighter Load, Smarter Choices
Professional wisdom came from Aaron Holtom, who gently pointed out that the simpler your golf bag, the better your game. Fewer balls, lighter loads, and the inclusion of a “safe” club, say, a 5-hybrid, can dramatically improve your consistency. It’s not flashy advice, but it’s effective. A stripped-down bag not only spares your back but sharpens your decision-making.
And he’s right. A cluttered bag doesn’t just weigh down your shoulders; it fogs your thinking. The sheer amount of junk I was lugging around was nothing short of embarrassing. I had become the human equivalent of a golf hoarder.
Out with the Old, In with the Organised
So here’s the lesson: don’t wait until your bag gives up the ghost to confront your golfing baggage. Empty it now. Take stock. Be ruthless. You’ll rediscover gloves you thought were lost, scorecards from ancient rounds, and maybe, just maybe, a rotting apple or two. But most importantly, you’ll carry only what you need. That, in itself, is liberating.
