Undercover Tour Pro: The Art Of Gambling During Tour Events
In the latest installment of GolfDigest.com’s usually excellent Undercover Tour Pro, the anonymous Tour insider delivers the goods on wagering during practice rounds AND during actual play when it counts.
What I found surprising are the “unofficial” bets placed when players are pretty much out of the competition on Friday’s cut day or on Sunday.
If there’s a standard bet out here, it’s a $100 nassau with partners. You also see a lot of $200 and $300 closeouts. Even if I link up with another single for just a handful of holes, I like to play for something. It’s a way to stay sharp.
It’s a rule that there’s no gambling allowed, so tour officials don’t like it. But there are a lot of things they do that we don’t like.
If you really want to get amped and are looking for a game “with a comma,” it’s a more select crowd. But not hard to find. Some guys are pretty loud about the money games they organize, where the stakes get to five or eight or even 10 grand during a normal week. Away from tour events, the games can get stupid. Like 40 and 50 grand a man. You need thick skin for those.
A thousand dollars is the perfect amount to get my full attention—it hurts to remove that kind of heft from my wallet—but I’ll play for more with anyone who wants. I don’t care if you’re top 10 or trying to get into Web.com events, there are no strokes.
The other thing you won’t find on the PGA Tour is Venmo or PayPal. All debts are settled in cash. Not paying within 24 hours is grounds for public humiliation, which usually means getting called out on the range, though guys have taken to social media, too. When I go on the road, my last stop before the airport is always the bank.
I’ll gamble on tournament days. If it’s a Friday and everyone in my group is clearly missing the cut, I’ll suggest $100 skins the rest of the way in. Same thing for Sunday morning. If the guy I’m paired with and I are starting in last place or damn near, it’s hard to get motivated. Even if I shoot 65, I move up maybe 10 places. And a solid round like 69 or 70 is going to yield something like $1,500 more in prize money, pre-tax. It might sound illogical, but the glory of taking a few hundo off a colleague becomes more interesting than a potentially slightly larger cut of a purse. Maybe it’s the tactility of cash, rather than the blink of a couple right-hand digits in my bank balance, that gets my blood pumping.
Each year when we play in Las Vegas during football season, I’ll spend an afternoon in a sports book letting five figures ride. I do it for the rush, which is maybe the same reason other people do drugs or dangerous sports. But if you’re not used to feeling heat, how can you expect to be ready when your moment comes and you’re standing over a golf shot worth half a million?
