Golf is a “sport” that literally requires no athletic qualities from its players, and barely any skills at all, even if 90 percent of it weren’t driving a clown car across an artificial steppe. Except for the fact that the hole is on the other side of the observable universe for some reason, the only obstacles golf “players” will ever face are water holes and sand pits, and even then they just start with a new ball. If minigolf were just miniature-sized golf, everyone who isn’t cross-eyed and knows the rules would always get holes-in-one. Then there are like twenty different clubs to hit the fucking ball, and they gaslight each other into thinking that picking the right one is some kind of art form like with wine tasting, but at least with wine tasting you eventually transition into getting sloshed. Also, there is no game so easy to cheat as golf, because instead of an independent jury or an arbitrator, you keep your own fucking score card. You know, unless it’s broadcast on TV. At 4:30 in the morning. On an obscure channel with French commentary. With an audience of either stoners or fresh divorcees in their late 40s who just ate an entire bucket of strawberry ice cream. Because it’s not a real sport. Or a game, for that matter.
Golf is a “sport” that literally requires no athletic qualities from its players, and barely any skills at all, even if 90 percent of it weren’t driving a clown car across an artificial steppe. Except for the fact that the hole is on the other side of the observable universe for some reason, the only obstacles golf “players” will ever face are water holes and sand pits, and even then they just start with a new ball. If minigolf were just miniature-sized golf, everyone who isn’t cross-eyed and knows the rules would always get holes-in-one. Then there are like twenty different clubs to hit the fucking ball, and they gaslight each other into thinking that picking the right one is some kind of art form like with wine tasting, but at least with wine tasting you eventually transition into getting sloshed. Also, there is no game so easy to cheat as golf, because instead of an independent jury or an arbitrator, you keep your own fucking score card. You know, unless it’s broadcast on TV. At 4:30 in the morning. On an obscure channel with French commentary. With an audience of either stoners or fresh divorcees in their late 40s who just ate an entire bucket of strawberry ice cream. Because it’s not a real sport. Or a game, for that matter.
please tell me this is a copypasta, please.