Washed Weekly: A 9th Great Man, Solo Golf, & Cutter Sagers
My name is Dave, and I would be an excellent addition to the Eight Great Men Dinner.
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My Application To Join The Great Men Dinner
by Dave
I was recently made aware of a dinner taking place in my hometown of Austin, Texas. As someone who enjoys eating dinner, I decided to investigate what exactly went down that night. Luckily, cameras were present to document this event. From the food preparation to the men connecting on a deep level, we got an inside look into what goes on when eight (8) men, all of whom are great, get together with zero chicks and zero alcohol to have genuine and sincere conversations. Upon review, I’d like to be a part of this dinner. Please accept this as my official request to join the Eight Great Men Dinner.
To whom it may concern:
My name is Dave, and I would be an excellent addition to the Eight Great Men Dinner. I’ve watched your video no less than 54 times, and with each view, something new captures my attention and makes me want to embrace my greatness. For example, the tasteful amount of olive oil drizzled upon the brussel sprouts dish was, for lack of a better term, great. Not that I can eat brussel sprouts - it’s a trigger food for my diverticulitis - but it’s really cool that it’s an option. I bet the other men loved it.
As for me, I’m not afraid to admit that I’m great. That’s obviously a prerequisite for you men, but I just wanted to type it out. It wasn’t always that way, though. For years, I struggled to admit to myself that I was different from everyone else. Many of my peers were good, but few were great. Few could perform at the highest level. Ostracized and ridiculed, my only defense mechanism was to abandon my unique set of high level skills that set me apart and settle for being only a good man. It wasn’t until I discovered a David Goggins reel that I realized how much I was leaving on the table. That’s where the dinner comes in.
You see, I’ve been looking to completely abandon my current group of friends. They’ve always been there for me, but they aren’t creators, they drink alcohol, they don’t sit in ergonomic chairs, and they refuse to connect on a deep level. As someone who is about to turn 40, making new friends is very difficult. I’m a member of multiple run clubs, the Chamber of Commerce, two different country clubs, Soho House, and the Young Gent’s Business League. You won’t catch me saying a bad thing about any of these groups, but they’ll let just about anyone in. What happened to standards?
Let’s cut the bullshit. Here’s all you need to know about me:
I am an entrepreneur. I own a media company in Austin and am very open to doing an Ayahuasca ceremony.
I am currently in ketosis.
I own multiple kettle bells and have trained with a steel mace.
I start my morning with Athletic Greens and 500 mg of psilocybin.
I’ve looked into peptide therapy.
I have my blood work checked every month.
My pellet smoker is operational.
I own a bluetooth speaker and am heavily leveraged by Bitcoin and CumRocket.
Me and boys taking down some grass fed steaks and reflecting on our lives together while a camera captures it all for content purposes. Let me know.
Best Regards,
DCR
The 10 Commandments of a Solo Round of Golf
by
Working retail was always a gift and a curse. While the employee discount on scented candles was never something I complained about, the holiday schedule and random weekdays off began to wear on me as I watched my Big City Friends enjoy their weekends from afar.
But there were certain moments when the gift certainly outweighed the curse. Each summer in Northern Michigan, tourists flock north to eat fudge and take pictures of the water. Come September, however, the kids go back to school and everyone returns to their home. And that random Wednesday I have off because I work Saturdays? Well I’m about to spend every one of them between September 1st and October 31st playing a solo round of golf.
Now that I have about 50 rounds alone under my belt, I thought I’d list my non-negotiables when it comes to playing around with no on else around.
1. Thou shall not complain about the pace of play.
When you play alone, you must soon realize you’re one of the few people on the course breezing through holes. Foursome of old men ahead of you? Bide your time and don’t ask to play through unless there’s absolutely no one ahead of them.
2. Thou shall not complain about the weather.
If significant rain, sleet or snow is in the forecast, it’s about time you find another activity that day. Anything else is fair game as long as you’re not finding yourself huddled in your cart fearing for your life. I once had a storm roll up on me on the hole furthest from the clubhouse and I was worried my golf cart was going to blow off a bluff never to be seen again.
3. Thou shall have no more than two (2) drinks during the round.
Sure, you can go more. But why? One beer makes you want two beers, two beers makes you feel invincible, and three beers makes you sleepy as you approach 16. Is this 38-year-old me talking and not 28-year-old me? Of course. But when you’re alone, just stick to innocent nicotine products and weed pens.
4. Thou shall never forget the bluetooth speaker.
As goes, a bluetooth speaker is normally a must-have on the course. But when you’re flying private in the Club Car and you’ve got no one judging your playlist, it’s time to hit those deep cuts. Blast it loud enough that you can hear it from the green when you’re putting — everyone will see you’re alone with the music that loud and think, “Hey, at least he looks like he’s having fun.”
5. Thou shall squad up with any other singles who approach.
I know, I know, you don’t always want to. But when 78-year-old Bud rolls up to you on 12 and asks if you want to play with him to speed things up, just humor the guy and learn about him. Once Bud gets comfortable and starts talking politics a couple holes in, you’re cleared to fake a work call and tell him to go ahead.
6. Thou shall record all par-3s.
By far the lamest of the commandments but also one of the most necessary. Playing alone has risks — animal attacks, lightning strikes, and (of course) getting a hole-in-one while no one is around. Set your phone up somewhere, press record, hit your shot, and make sure the hole never leaves the frame. Clearcut evidence is essential if you want to be able to claim your hole-in-one in the future. Otherwise, you’re just one of those people who claims they got one but it was on a par-3 course.
7. Thou shall give thyself gimmies, but within reason.
You know. You know. When I played alone last week while on vacation, I was on #1 with a five-footer for par. Sure, it looked like it could be a gimmie in some people’s worlds. But deep down, I knew I had to hit it. And I did. While there will always be scumbags who try to lower their handicap for no reason other than to feel good about themselves, we all must remember that golf is a game of honor. Only you and God will know you lipped out that 3-footer on 8 — and that’s enough to weigh on you when your GHIN notification roles through.
8. Embrace thy zen.
Hear that? The birds are singing. The trees are rustling. Bud just bladed a chip and yelled “Fucking shit!” in the distance. If there’s ever a time to feel one with nature, it’s while the group in front of you reads putts they’ll never make as you wait on the tee box. Shut your eyes, listen, and try not to doze off. Maybe even pump in some bird noises on your bluetooth speaker like it’s The Masters.
9. Thou shall work on thy game.
What better opportunity to implement some swing changes than playing alone? Play that second ball all day. Hit numerous putts before heading to your cart after holing out. Drop another and club up when you end up in that bunker. I learned at an early age how much more you learn away from the range than on it — get your Harvey Penick on and lock in.
10. Thou shall not brag about thy round.
Everyone knows you played alone. Everyone knows you didn’t follow the seventh commandment as strictly as you should’ve. Everyone’s questioning whether or not you actually shot that 81. And yes, you know it was closer to an 85.
Dillon’s Track House, Scottish Edition
Yesterday’s Dillon’s Track House featured a double eagle, a hole-in-one, and the typical Circling Back banter you all know and love. Shouts to all the Track Heads.
These Kids in Utah Were Born For One Thing: Riding Bulls
by
Every dude I went to school with was named Jared, Michael, Brandon and Brad. On the girls side, they were all named Ashley, Michelle, Sarah and Jessica.
In the next generation of baby names, they all stayed basically the same but the spellings got unique and weird. Instead of Michael, it was Mykal. Instead of Brandon, it was Brandin. Instead of Ashley, it was Ashleigh. And instead of Jessica, it was Jessika.
You’re signing your kid up for a lifetime of “actually, it’s spelled _____,” but you do you.
The current generation of new baby names is a mix of old school throwback and new school names that are a little out there.
Anyway, there’s nothing quite like the names of these kids in Utah who are participating in a local children’s rodeo.
McCoy Sweat!
Bronc Heiner!
Two different kids named Kash/Cash!
Two different kids named Haze/Hayes!
CUTTER SAGERS!!!
Tibbs Thomas!
Raygun Steele!
We already know the Sweat brothers are a force in this competition. Those parents raised these kids in the red dirt of a rodeo arena and they live their lives eight seconds at a time. Never met a steer they couldn’t ride.
Cutter Sagers is new to the event this year after moving to West Des, Utah from Pinedale, Wyoming where he placed top five for two years running. Rumors swirling in the warm Utah air that he’s about to land a Copenhagen sponsorship. Details to follow.
Everyone knows they’re battling it out for second place, though. This competition belongs to Bronc Heiner and we all know it. Bronc is a 7th generation bull rider. His family’s been in Wasatch since the gold rush of the 1840s. They fell in love with the crisp mountain air of Utah and didn’t quite make it out Cali way. They been gettin’ thrown off bulls ever since.
Look for Tibbs and Raygun to make it interesting this year. Up and comers.
Not to be outdone by the boys, check out the names of ladies.
Swayzie Shields!
Remington Anderson!
Hayzlie Pope!
Dally Jo Sharp!!!
GUNNIE FREELAND!!!
Tayzlee Ivie!
Kashlee Hill!
Mercadeez Allred!
Swayzie Shields a pure barrel racer through and through. “Smooth Ridin Swayze,” they call her. She learned from her mom Caelyn, who learned from her momma Sheryl Shields. It’s in her blood and she’s here to win.
Dally Jo Sharp broke her fibula last season after getting bucked from her pony Shadow at her quiet South Summit ranch last fall. She shouldn’t sit in the saddle for another few weeks but her competitive spirit isn’t letting her sit this one out. She’s ready enough.
Gunnie Freeland is the best seven-year-old barrel racer to ever slide on a pair of ropers. She’ll be defending her title for the second year in a row as she looks to win her third Golden Buckle before she turns eight, something the state of Utah has never seen before.
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Will went off with this one.
Really enjoying that not only are there two male versions of Kash/Cash, we've also got the women holding it up with Kashen & Kashlee. These Utahns love their cash, man.