Picture a boomer living near a golf club. He’s a member. One of the first to join. He conducts all his business at the club. He’s on its committee. Often its chair. For decades, he’s shaped club policy & direction. Inexplicably, he writes letters to the local rag denouncing golf.

One day, he decides he’s leaving the club. After a row he agrees to pay his subs (which he gets at a discount) until the end of the year as per contract. This he considers a BLOODY LIBERTY even though he’ll be able to use the club in that time. He says he won’t. He then does.

He then proposes that he be allowed to play golf after his membership lapses. He’ll still play golf every day, but he won’t pay for membership & he won’t abide by the club rules as he can no longer help set them. The club say no. He calls them cunts. They politely ask him not to.

He says the people he does all his business with play & drink here. You’re going to bankrupt me if you carry on like this. *We* carry on like this, they blink back. He then excitedly writes a letter to the local rag saying how rich he’ll be when he no longer pays his golf subs.

Our man has another meeting; he wants to play at the club. It’s next door. Why won’t they let him play golf? All he wants is to play golf, drink in the subsided bar, use the pool & fuck the new chairman’s wife. For free. It’s still no. He says they’re intransigent. Like Stalin.

What about other golf clubs, the committee ask. They’re really far away, he says. And I’ve been banned for drink driving thanks to the nanny state. Also, they all hate me because when I was younger I burgled most the members’ houses, smashed the places up & racially abused them.

Oh. They say. Have you apologised? No, he shouts - why would apologise I am proud of it and they should be grateful. The boomer then goes home, smashes up his own house, & then gases himself in his Saab 5. He has posted a letter to the local rag accusing the golf club of murder.