Your wife believes it. Your caddie believes it. Now make sure the evidence agrees.
A discreet field manual • Est. 1997
That faint skunky aroma? A startled skunk near the 14th tee. Keep a small vial of diluted essence in your bag for emergency reinforcement. Mention it casually over dinner: “You wouldn’t believe the size of the thing.”
Never say “we had a few beers.” Say “the VP from the firm insisted we discuss the new acquisition over lunch.” Order the same salad you always get at home. Leave the receipt in your pocket as proof of business.
There was no conversation. There was only polite thanks for the iced tea. If pressed, the story is: “She was someone’s niece from out of town helping her uncle for the day.” Never elaborate.
Your new driver head flew off on the 7th hole. You spent 45 minutes searching the rough with three other gentlemen. This explains both the time and the grass stains on your trousers.
You were raising money for the club’s junior program. The “case” in your friend’s bag was actually a donation of gently used clubs. Never mention the beer. The clubs are the story.
The best alibi is the one you never have to use. Play the round you can defend. Everything else is just good course management.