Blog

The Fine Art of the Mulligan

When One Swing Just Isn’t Enough

Published

8 months ago

October 12, 2024

Ty Webb

Hey there, fellow golfers and masters of the do-over! Today, we’re diving into a topic that every golfer holds near and dear to their heart: the mulligan. Ah, yes—the unofficial “get out of jail free” card of golf. Let’s face it, sometimes one swing just isn’t enough, and when things go sideways faster than a shanked drive, you’ll find yourself reaching for the ultimate reset button: the mulligan.

So let’s explore the fine art of the mulligan, a concept so sacred and universally loved that it’s basically the only part of golf where breaking the rules feels like a warm hug.

The Origins of the Mulligan: An Age-Old Tradition
Now, no one really knows where the mulligan came from. Some say it was invented by a golfer named David Mulligan in the 1920s who decided that one bad swing shouldn’t ruin his day. Others say it dates back to the cavemen days when a poorly thrown rock could be followed up with, “Eh, I’m taking another one!” Either way, the mulligan is as timeless as golf itself. It’s a tradition that’s been passed down through generations, like a family recipe for disaster.
When to Take a Mulligan: The Goldilocks Rule
Knowing when to pull the mulligan card is an art. Too soon, and you look like you’ve got no faith in your swing. Too late, and you’re stuck playing from the depths of a bunker that’s more beach than golf course. The trick? The “Goldilocks Rule”: your first swing has to be just bad enough. Not horrendously bad (that’s when you blame the club), but not great either—something in the sweet spot of “Oops, let’s pretend that didn’t happen.” Just bad enough to justify the do-over, but not so bad that you need to ask for forgiveness from your playing partners.
The Silent Agreement: Mulligan Etiquette
Let’s be honest—mulligans are like magic tricks. They only work if everyone agrees to keep the secret. You can’t just shout “MULLIGAN!” like you’re starting a revolution. No, no. A good mulligan requires finesse. You glance at your buddies, give them the universal “we cool with this?” look, and if you’re lucky, they’ll nod or offer a half-smile. That’s all the permission you need. But if your friends start counting how many mulligans you’ve taken, it’s time to cool it. This isn’t the Mulligan Masters, after all.
Mulligan Multiplication: The Real Math of Golf
Ah, the fun of scoring golf with mulligans. If you’re like most people, a round of golf involves more math than a calculus exam. “Okay, I’ll count that first shot, but I’ll take a mulligan on the second. So it’s one off the tee, mulligan, drop two… wait, what hole is this?” It’s the kind of mental gymnastics that would make a math teacher cry. But remember: the official scorecard doesn’t need to know about your little mulligan miracle. That’s strictly between you, the course, and that friend who’s pretending they didn’t see you take another swing.
The “Breakfast Ball” Mulligan
If there’s one time when a mulligan is practically a requirement, it’s the “breakfast ball.” You’ve just rolled out of bed, barely had your coffee, and now you’re supposed to hit a perfect drive off the first tee? Not gonna happen. The breakfast ball is the sacred mulligan of early tee times. The first ball is really just a warm-up. The second one? That’s the one you meant to hit. The breakfast ball is the golf world’s way of saying, “Hey, no one should have to hit the fairway before 8 a.m. without a little grace.”
No Mulligans in Life, Except on the Course
The great thing about mulligans? They don’t exist in real life. Can you imagine taking a mulligan in a work meeting? “Oops, I’ll just redo that presentation. Mulligan!” Or in a conversation with your boss? “Yeah, I definitely didn’t mean to say that. Mulligan!” No way. But on the golf course? Mulligans are free, unlimited (depending on how much you like your friends), and glorious. They remind us that second chances are always an option, at least when you’re chasing a little white ball around a field.

So there you have it, folks—a deep dive into the glorious art of the mulligan. Whether you’re dropping one after a wayward tee shot or throwing one in for fun with the boys, remember: the mulligan is more than just a do-over. It’s an institution. It’s a gift from the golfing gods. And most importantly, it’s the greatest loophole in a game that’s usually all about following the rules. Until next time, may your first swing be great—but if it’s not, may your mulligans be plentiful. Mulligan on, my friends!

Related Topics:featured tee time tee time with ty ty webb

Up Next

The Next Frontier in Golf

Don't Miss

Best Drills to Improve Your Golf Game

Ty Webb

Blog

One of the Greatest Putts in U.S. Open History?

JJ Spaun’s 64-Foot Walk-Off

Published

5 days ago

June 16, 2025

James Fairway

When JJ Spaun stood over a 64-foot birdie putt on the 72nd hole of the 2025 U.S. Open at Oakmont, few could have predicted what would come next. The ball meandered across the slick green, trickling over every contour, picking up speed at the crest, and then—like it had GPS—dropped center cup. Spaun dropped his putter, raised his arms, and the crowd erupted. With that single stroke, he claimed his first major title in one of the most dramatic finishes in U.S. Open history.

But how does Spaun’s putt stack up against other legendary finishes in the tournament’s storied past? Let’s break down some of the most iconic moments and see where this one lands.

1. Payne Stewart – 1999 U.S. Open at Pinehurst

Perhaps the most iconic putt in U.S. Open history came from Payne Stewart, who nailed a 15-footer for par on the 18th to win by one over Phil Mickelson. The pose—fist pump and outstretched leg—has since been immortalized in a statue at Pinehurst. What made it legendary wasn’t just the putt—it was the context: Stewart’s final major before his tragic death just months later.

Verdict: Iconic and emotional. Spaun’s putt was longer, but Stewart’s was more poetic.

2. Tiger Woods – 2008 U.S. Open at Torrey Pines

Woods drained a 12-foot birdie on the 72nd hole to force a playoff with Rocco Mediate—while basically playing on one leg. That tournament went to sudden death after an 18-hole playoff, and Tiger prevailed. This was peak Tiger drama, pain and all.

Verdict: Spaun’s putt was longer, but Tiger’s win was sheer willpower and mystique.

3. Jack Nicklaus – 1972 U.S. Open at Pebble Beach

With a 1-iron shot that hit the flagstick on 17 and a crucial birdie putt on 18, Jack sealed a dominant win. His precision and timing under pressure showed why he’s the GOAT.

Verdict: Not a putt for the win, but a signature finishing statement from Jack. Spaun’s was more electric in terms of pure putter drama.

4. Ben Hogan – 1950 U.S. Open at Merion

Hogan’s 1-iron into the 18th fairway and the par to force a playoff—just 16 months after a near-fatal car crash—remain legendary. He won the playoff and completed one of golf’s great comeback stories.

Verdict: Larger-than-life comeback. Spaun’s putt had more flair, but Hogan’s win was heroic.

5. JJ Spaun – 2025 U.S. Open at Oakmont

Let’s not underestimate what Spaun accomplished. The pressure was immense. He wasn’t the favorite. And on the most treacherous greens in golf, he buried a 64-foot bomb—a putt most players would be happy to lag to within 5 feet—to win the U.S. Open outright.

Verdict: For distance, surprise, and drama, Spaun’s putt may be the most shocking winning stroke in U.S. Open history.

Final Thoughts

JJ Spaun may not have the résumé of a Nicklaus or Woods, but for one Sunday afternoon in June 2025, he created a moment that will live in golf lore forever. Spaun’s putt was longer than Stewart’s, more unexpected than Tiger’s, and more dramatic than any final-hole finish in recent memory.

In terms of pure clutch putting? It might just be the greatest walk-off in U.S. Open history.

Blog

The Zen of the Shank: Finding Inner Peace in Your Worst Shots

Find your inner peace even when you aren’t playing well.

Published

5 days ago

June 16, 2025

Ty Webb

Ah, the shank. That glorious, unpredictable misfire that sends your pristine golf ball screaming sideways, often directly into the unsuspecting shins of your playing partner, or perhaps, with a touch of poetic irony, into the very lake you’ve been trying to avoid all day. Most golfers, bless their earnest little hearts, view the shank as a catastrophic failure, a blight upon their scorecard, a testament to their inherent lack of coordination. They curse, they throw clubs, they contemplate a career in competitive thumb-wrestling. But not I. No, my friends, for I, Ty Webb, have found enlightenment in the humble shank.

You see, the shank is not a mistake; it’s a revelation. It’s the universe’s way of reminding you that control is an illusion, that perfection is a myth, and that sometimes, the most direct path to your goal is, in fact, a wildly indirect one. Think of it as a philosophical detour, a sudden, unexpected journey into the unknown. One moment, you’re aiming for the green, a paragon of precision and intent. The next, your ball is ricocheting off a tree, narrowly missing a squirrel, and landing, by some divine comedic intervention, closer to the hole than your perfectly struck drive ever would have. Is that not a miracle? Is that not a sign that the golf gods, much like life itself, have a wicked sense of humor?

The key, my dear apprentices of the links, is acceptance. Embrace the shank. Welcome it with open arms, like a long-lost, slightly inebriated relative. When that familiar, sickening thwack echoes through the air, do not despair. Instead, take a deep breath. Close your eyes. Feel the gentle breeze on your face. And then, with a knowing smile, open them and observe the chaos you have wrought. Is it not beautiful in its own chaotic way? Is there not a certain freedom in relinquishing control, in allowing the ball to choose its own destiny, however bizarre that destiny may be?

Some say the shank is a sign of poor technique. I say it’s a sign of a vibrant, untamed spirit. A golfer who never shanks is a golfer who has never truly lived, never truly explored the outer limits of their own golfing absurdity. They are content with mediocrity, with predictable trajectories and mundane outcomes. But you, my enlightened few, you understand that the true joy of golf lies not in the score, but in the story. And what a story a good shank can tell.

So, the next time you feel that familiar tremor of a shank brewing, don’t fight it. Let it flow. Let it be. For in the heart of every shank lies a lesson, a laugh, and perhaps, just perhaps, a path to a lower score you never saw coming. After all, as the great philosopher Basho once said, “A flute with no holes, is not a flute. A donut with no hole, is a Danish.” And a golf game without a shank? Well, that’s just not golf, is it?