Brian, as you know from Twitter, I Buddied Up! yesterday with a friend and fellow GCA member for an after work round. We went out behind a fivesome at his home club, and could have played through them at numerous times during the round if we'd wanted to - they invited us to simply shout if we wanted to go ahead. But then again, they were playing at a healthy 3.5 hour pace on a beautiful day on a fairly busy course, so we instead adjusted our own pace to match theirs, which in turn matched the pace of the rest of the groups on the course. We only really waited on one shot, and that was only because it was blind and they forgot to ring the "all clear" bell. Shortly after we teed off on the blind hole, a single came up behind us. We invited him to play through, and he instead suggested that we #BuddyUp!!! and even skipped hitting his drive, simply throwing one down 40 yards behind mine (which made me like him even more). We gained a friend and finished as sunset approached on the nicest day of the year so far, even if I failed to make the birdie that would have secured an even-par back nine.
The only thing that would have made the round better would have been a drink afterwards (well, that and that birdie on 18), but unfortunately my time for idle leisure had ended for the week. I got in my car and rushed home to run an errand that involved a 90 minute drive, broken up only by a rushed stop at a Noodles & Co to grab a bowl of some khaki and jaundice colored garbage that I'd microwave an hour later before consuming as part of a meal that set the course of human dignity backwards a solid 7 years. While waiting for the food, I moved as fast as I could to connect to the N&Co Guest wi-fi so I could download my third-favorite podcast without using any of my 4G data plan, and watched frantically hoping that the download would complete at exactly the same time as the food so that no moment would be wasted. Everything after the round was a mad rush - I even had to hurry up and fall asleep so that I could get up early and make the same 90 minute drive back to where I'd come from the night before.
My conclusion: life is much better when working harmoniously with our fellow man at a pace that matches his than it is when rushing to beat him in a race he doesn't know he's a part of. Sometimes our fellow man is too slow and leaves us no other choice (like when he's playing at a five hour deathmarch pace), but all things being equal, I'd prefer to just not be the asshole who makes everybody's day a little worse because I didn't manage the rest of my calendar well enough to afford a 3:30 round instead of a 3:10. Not that any of this has much to do with 2 1/2 hour high school matches, but when guys are seriously suggesting that singles should be allowed to play through groups competing in a tournament, I have a tendency to ramble.