I Feel Like Some Golf Club Members Stare Me Down As A Visitor. Is It Paranoia Or Reality?

I find golf clubs fascinating yet confusing places. I love the sport and I’ve had so many incredible experiences at different courses and inside different clubhouses all over the world. But I also find some facilities and members bizarrely and inexplicably obstinate, especially when it comes to visitors.

I’ve been a nomadic golfer for several years and written exhaustively about why it works for me, what the challenges are – especially from a handicapping point of view – and how it’s perceived, which varies wildly from place to place. But traditional members’ clubs are by far and away the worst when it comes to the reception you receive.

I’ll make two obvious points here. Firstly, pay-and-play facilities live off visitor income and are naturally going to be far more welcoming – they need your custom to survive and are seeking repeat business.

That said, some of them still manage to make a negative impression by, for example, insisting you play off the yellow tees when it doesn’t suit you. As I’ve said many times before, too, golf often finds a way to shoot itself in the foot.

Secondly, not all members’ clubs make you feel like you’re walking around on eggshells. I’ve had some great experiences at what would be termed ‘high end’ institutions.

That said, most of the time I’m invited to a traditional golf club, I feel like I’m being looked over as soon as I set foot in the car park. It’s almost as if the members’ collective radars are alerted to the presence of someone they know isn’t one of them and doesn’t belong. I’m certain it’s not paranoia.

Hard to understand

I often wonder if other sports have the same issue. The fact the welcome you receive is typically covered in a course review is somewhat damning in itself, especially when the facility in question is directly benefiting from the money you’ve spent to be there. But in any case, shouldn’t you just nod and smile as a matter of course? Isn’t that how we’ve all been taught to treat strangers who offer no threat?

Perhaps that’s the wrong one to use, as I suspect many club members do find visitors threatening – to their habitual and engrained way of existing, to their closed shop and to their controlled environment.

There’s no question that visitor numbers, visitor demand and the overarching paradigm regarding non-members is monitored on an ongoing basis by those in charge at golf clubs.

Do some treat visitors as second-class citizens because their approach could end up threatening the golf club membership model at some point in the future? There’s increasing evidence that club membership numbers are declining in the UK – partly driven by cost and partly by cultural factors.

Or is it simply curmudgeonly folk who don’t particularly want visitors at their club and make them feel slightly uncomfortable as their mechanism for protest?

Either way, I find the level of suspicion on visitors’ shoulders quite vexing. Some people watch you like a hawk, almost as if they’re willing you to make an etiquette mistake so they can tootle over and speak to you condescendingly about it.

Of course, some of these conversations happen to those who pay their dues, too, especially younger ones. There’s certainly a parallel between how juniors and visitors are treated and viewed by some members, often older ones. If you’re a visiting junior at one of these staid clubs, good luck to you.

Needlessly patronising

I remember playing a round of golf when I was 14 years old as a guest at my friend’s course. I happened to be wearing the incorrect style and colour of sock, which admittedly was my fault – you should abide by the dress code of the club you’re visiting.

But there’s a way to handle these interactions. All too often, conversations between members and visitors or members and juniors are unnecessarily snooty and patronising; like the complainant is trying to exert dominance through words.

You won’t often get, “Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but we don’t do that here. Would you mind changing/putting your phone away/changing your shoes? Much appreciated.” Usually, it’s more abrupt and less civil.

These conversations can happen on the course, too. I was once playing at a Top 100 UK and Ireland club with a friend who was a member.

We were called through by the group in front and one of the players – who told us he was a former captain almost instantly – asked us whether we were members and various other questions. It was feigned pleasantry with a very noticeable undercurrent of mistrust and authority assertion.

I just don’t understand why some take umbrage with visitors who behave appropriately and dare to expand their golfing horizons, test themselves on different layouts and boost the respective club’s coffers in the process.

You often find people gazing in your direction in the clubhouse after your round, too, seemingly monitoring your every move. Have you changed your shoes? Do you have mud on your trousers? You'll know about it if you do!

You sense these people have been in the same position for decades, sitting on their high horse and looking for a reason to be annoyed. It’s curious.

Again, it’s worth reiterating that only some clubs and some individuals create this sort of environment, but ask any nomadic golfer who plays at members’ clubs and they will be able to relate. Certain people clearly believe the price you should pay for the privilege of spending money at their establishment is to feel slightly on edge at all times.

If this applies to you, stop looking down your nose at visitors. If you know it happens at your club, make an effort to help change the culture. Visitors aren’t the problem; they’re simply people who love golf but consume it slightly differently to you.

For some reason, unity in golf seems perplexingly hard to come by.