Blog
Fan Steals Bryson’s Ball at the Tour Championship

Bryson is known for hitting bombs and attacking tee shot with the straightest line to the hole. Sometimes, this strategy is a little risky and can lead to a less than desirable lie. Matter of fact, he almost had to tack on a penalty stroke because of it on Saturday.
An Aggressive Line
DeChambeau hit his tee shot far left of the fairway on 18 in an effort to land it near the 10th hole and gain an advantage on his next shot. However, things didn’t quite go as planned. Instead, DeChambeau overshot it and ended up near 11, way off from where he needed to be.
It got even worse from there.
When Bryson arrived at the reported landing spot, his ball was nowhere to be found. DeChambeau was left searching for a few minutes before officials decided to check the footage for answers. A Shot Link camera captured evidence of a fan simply walking off with Bryson’s ball shortly after it landed.
Under the Rules of Golf, DeChambeau did not have to take a penalty drop on the hole due to the fan interference. After the drop, he ended up sinking the putt for Birdie. He declined to speak with the media after his round, but cameras captured the incident.
Blog
Meet The Canadian Open Qualifier Tied To ClickIt Golf!
“This week was incredible,” he said. “A dream come true.”

Josh Goldenberg doesn’t plan to quit his day job. But he had a great time dabbling in his old career.

He gave up on pro golf, then qualified for his first PGA Tour event.
Read the full story here
https://golf.com/news/josh-goldenberg-rbc-canadian-open/?amp=1
Blog
Bets & Babes: Betting on Birdies

In this latest episode of Bets and Babes join me and my special guest Robert from the World Series of Golf as we tee up a whole new way to think about betting on the green.
We break down golf betting basics, share hilarious stories and talk about how to bet in a way that might resonate with us ladies.
Whether you’re a total newbie or just curious how to make golf Sundays more exciting, this episode delivers fun, flirty, and smart tips to get you in the game. 🎧⛳💸
Click below to listen to the entire episode and leave your comments and suggestions for future episodes.
Blog
The Bogey Man’s Guide to Accidental Course Exploration: Or, How I Found My Ball (Eventually) in the Rough of Life

Ah, golf. The gentle game of precision, patience, and occasionally, profound personal humiliation. You know, the kind that makes you question all your life choices, particularly the one where you decided to spend your Saturday morning chasing a tiny white ball around 18 acres of manicured torture.
Boo here, reporting live from the depths of a particularly thorny patch of “rough” that I’m fairly certain wasn’t on the course map. My mission? To recount a tale of a golf shot so spectacularly off-target, it became less about breaking par and more about breaking new ground. Literally.
It was a glorious Tuesday. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and my swing felt… well, it felt like something. I was on the par-4 7th, a hole notorious for its deceptive dogleg and a bunker that swallows balls faster than a hungry teenager devours pizza. My plan was simple: a nice, controlled fade, landing gently just short of the green. A textbook approach, really.
What actually happened was less “textbook” and more “abstract expressionism.” My driver, bless its misguided heart, decided that “fade” was merely a suggestion, and “controlled” was a concept best left to professional pilots. The ball, a brand-new, gleaming Titleist Pro V1 (because, you know, optimism), launched with the trajectory of a startled pheasant and veered sharply right. So sharply, in fact, it cleared the cart path, hopped over the maintenance shed, and disappeared into what I can only describe as a dense, untamed jungle previously known as “the woods bordering the 7th fairway.”
Now, a lesser golfer, a more sensible golfer, might have declared it lost, taken a drop, and moved on with their dignity mostly intact. But I, dear readers, am Mr. Bogey Man. And the Bogey Man doesn’t abandon his children, especially when they cost $5 a pop.
So, armed with a 7-iron (optimism again, clearly), a profound sense of misplaced determination, and a faint hope that perhaps a deer had picked it up and was using it as a chew toy, I plunged into the abyss.
The first five minutes were a blur of tangled vines, unseen roots, and the distinct feeling that I was being watched by small, judgmental woodland creatures. My pristine golf shoes quickly became mud-caked relics. My carefully tucked-in shirt became a casualty of low-hanging branches. I swear, I heard a squirrel snicker.
Then, a glimmer! A flash of white amidst the green. “Aha!” I cried, startling a family of robins. I pushed through a particularly stubborn bush, only to find… a discarded plastic water bottle. My heart sank faster than my last putt from 3 feet.
I pressed on, muttering to myself about the unfairness of golf, the existential dread of lost balls, and whether it was too late to take up competitive napping. Just as I was about to give up and declare the ball a permanent resident of the arboreal underworld, I saw it. Nestled perfectly at the base of an ancient oak, gleaming defiantly, was my Pro V1.
The triumph! The sheer, unadulterated joy! It was like finding the Holy Grail, if the Holy Grail was spherical and prone to slicing. I carefully extracted it, brushed off a few leaves, and held it aloft.
Then I looked around. I had no idea where I was. The fairway was a distant, hazy memory. The cart path? A myth. I was utterly, gloriously lost.
It took another fifteen minutes of bushwhacking, a brief but intense wrestling match with a particularly aggressive thistle, and the accidental discovery of what I’m pretty sure was a very old, very moldy sandwich, but I eventually stumbled back onto the course. My playing partners, who had long since finished the hole and were contemplating sending out a search party (or at least ordering another round of drinks), looked at me with a mixture of pity and amusement.
My score on the 7th? Let’s just say it involved a number that would make a mathematician weep. But the story? The adventure? The sheer ridiculousness of it all? Priceless.
So, the next time your ball decides to take an unscheduled tour of the local flora and fauna, don’t despair. Embrace it. See it as an opportunity for accidental exploration. You might not break 80, but you’ll definitely have a story. And isn’t that what golf is really about? (Besides the frustration, the lost balls, and the occasional snickering squirrel, of course.)
Until next time, keep those swings (mostly) in bounds, and remember: even a bogey can be an adventure.
Boo
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