Yes, I did say that golf instructors always struck me as the modern-day equivalent of snake-oil salesmen or chiropractors in the latest TravelGolf.com newsletter. And yes, I stand by the notion that some of these PGA-certified instructors charge hourly rates that some lawyers would be embarrassed about.

But my instructing friends (forget the chiropractors, they’re definitely quacks), I was ready to come over to your side. I was prepared to take my first lessons, see how they improved my horrible hacker game and write about it in a series for BadGolfer.com. I had been swayed by Tim McDonald’s Stepford Wives conversion. Sure, I considered that McDonald’s drastic change from his original rant against golf lessons could be a case of advance senility or John Kerry wishy waffling.

But still, I stood on the brink, ready to give lessons a try. Then, I started to read the responses that rolled in. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the vile. I particularly enjoyed the chiropractor who told me to stick snake oil up my derriere. (Isn’t it rather presumptuous to call yourself a doctor if you’re a freaking chiropractor though? Just asking!) Still with all that said, the sad thing was realizing that golf instructors cannot even follow instructions.

Here I was an aimless sheep, reaching out to the leaders of the great golfing flock and…nothing. None of these instructors illustrated why their services are so valuable or what they could do for a bad golfer like me. Instead they just called me an idiot (which is fun to hear, but it doesn’t really enlighten). It makes me think this golf instructing thing is really a complete sham. If there’s no Zen mumbo jumbo or name calling to hide behind, these teachers cannot make a point.

And these are the guys who are supposed able to get someone with a swing even Charles Barkley would cringe at to follow a complex program?

Ask for help, they can’t answer with anything concrete. Sad. I really wanted to see if lessons worked. I could be the golf instructing industry’s No. 1 convert. Oh well, maybe I’ll reach out to a chiropractor instead. (Oh yeah, I value my skeleton, scratch that!)

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