Magnets: 21st Century Snake Oil

Funny thing about golfers: On average, they tend to be well-educated. They tend to read (for example, you reading this). And yet, they tend to waste their money on junk, gizmos, and magnets.

Magnets, the 21st century’s equivalent of snake oil. They’ll cure your ills, heal your wounds, and salve your aching joints. Soon we’ll see magnetic condoms marketed as a cheaper alternative to Viagra.

Before I go on, let me say that if anyone anywhere has in their possession a published, peer-reviewed, double-blind study on the efficacy of magnets, PLEASE send it to me and set me straight. (But I have a feeling these studies will be as hard to find as people who remember serving with W. in the Alabama National Guard.)

Until then, however, I will continue to scoff. It may be a testament to the difficulty of the game that so many golfers are willing to piddle away their hard-earned dough on magnetic bracelets, necklaces, patches, and—who knows?—maybe even athletic cups.

At the recent PGA Fall Expo in Las Vegas, I was accosted by an earnest Japanese representative of Phiten, which has melded golf’s two super-materials, magnets and titanium. The Japanese company’s patches look like Band-Aids, and can stick where it hurts. The company’s press materials feature Ernie Els, pitcher Randy Johnson and the New York Jets as satisfied customers. This just goes to show that money can’t buy good sense.

To give them the benefit of the doubt, I used Phiten’s patches during several recent rounds. I stuck them on my creaky wrists, and even affixed one to my stiff left knee. And honestly, I completely forgot they were there. But during and after the round, and especially the next day, I most certainly did NOT forget that the old pains were there. In other words, I might as well have sacrificed a chicken and burned some incense in the locker room, because Voodoo would have been just as effective.

So like I say, we golfers are a funny bunch. Maybe the vagaries of the game have driven so many of us to distraction, we’re willing to try anything as long as it doesn’t make our game worse. Whatever it is, we sure do seem happy to throw our money away on useless crap.

Which has led me to ponder my next entrepreneurial venture: I’m considering producing and marketing a magnet re-charger (i.e., a slick, shiny hunk of steel with a fancy name) to bring all those old magnetic bracelets, necklaces, and belts back to full strength.

Maybe I’ll start a snake farm and harvest some oil, too.