Scalloped Potatoes! Golf, and the Fame Epidemic

I know that I'm probably in the minority--even among sports fans--of people who  watched the PGA Championship. But before you click away for fear of a boring golf post, let me assure you that this really doesn't have as much to do with golf as it does the Kardashians. Let me explain... 


For those who are unfamiliar with professional golf, we've recently noticed a startling trend of drunken frat boys making their way onto golf courses across the country and screaming ridiculous things at players right after they swing.  


Exhibit A: Scalloped Potatoes!


Golf is a game where it's considered inappropriate to walk during another player's backswing, where the difference between the best shot and the worst shot is literally millimeters, where quiet is sacred. I'm not sure if these guys have ever played golf, or if they just love to wear polos and drink beer. By my most lenient assumption--they are uneducated. At worst, they are deliberately ruining something I consider sacred.  


The Fame Epidemic

The Kardashians, Honey Boo Boo, The Real World crew, and the freaking Bachelor people (my least favorite) are all famous for absolutely no reason. The reason the "Scalloped Potatoes Guy" is so unnerving to me is because he represents a movement of young people towards fame and away from dignity. It has officially become more important to be known than it is to be respected. I'm painting with a broad brush, but follow me for a second. 

What motivation does one have for screaming at a nationally televised golf tournament? 

Unless this particular individual has some sort of disease where his vocal chords spontaneously combust in an uproar of side dishes, my best guess is that he did it to be on TV. He did so he could high five his buddies while watching the DVR. Maybe he'll keep the youtube video on his phone to show off for girls on dates. 


If the goal is to be known then congratulations potato guy, I am talking about you. I am talking about how I heard you on tv and now I'm writing about you. I am writing about how annoying you are how and how I hope to never ever see you on a golf course--or anywhere really. 

Famous is overrated. I think I'd rather be respected.