How You Feel When The Golf Season Ends: Explained By Cats

So there’s this thing called winter, which is the evil twin of summer, that makes it very difficult for golfers to go out and play their beloved sport. The only way to get your fill is to go to an indoor driving range, use a simulator, or travel somewhere warm. These are all viable options (although simulators and traveling can cost a pretty penny), but nothing compares to the feeling of walking on to your home course. Once the season officially ends, golfers slowly start to fall into this depressive state, that only the swing of a club can fix.

What better way to explain this feeling than through cat gifs? I mean who doesn’t love cute kitties from the internet?


“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can totally find my ball in all 740393895 of these leaves. Too cold? Get some thicker gloves! I WILL PLAY UNTIL I FREEZE.”




You and your golfing buddy try to find ways to cope together, because what else is there to do? This is only putting off the impending doom of when you’re alone and cuddling your favorite club, weeping over not being able to fly to Florida.




It’s over. It’s really over. Even the pros are on vacation. You’ll just lie here in the fetal position until the next season starts.



You forget what you did on the weekends besides golf. “You want me to leave the house and not go to the golf course? Nah, I’ll just stay inside where it’s warm and I can Netflix and chill with myself forever.” *dies a little inside*




You’re eating your feelings away. Food, glorious food, the only way to truly cope. (Maybe with some beer too, yeah, lots of beer)



You go over your rounds with the scorecards you kept this season, or look through your handicap app. You get even more depressed when you see how your scores skyrocketed at the end of the season (you tried to play in 30 degree weather so it doesn’t really count though, right?). Come back golf, come back.



“Wake me up when it’s Spring so I can play some more golf. If you have anything else to say to me don’t bother. I’ll be dreaming of fresh cut greens and making sand angels in bunkers.”


Is it Spring yet?