The Unwritten Rules of Golf

The world runs on more than what is written down. A rulebook can teach, but it cannot capture spirit. The unspoken governs the way people meet each other’s eyes, the tone of a reply, the patience to wait when rushing would be easier.

These quiet measures carry more strength than law. They guide us to hold a door, to keep silence at the right moment, to show restraint when pride stirs. They are not found on a page, yet everyone feels their presence.

This morning, remember that life is measured as much in subtleties as in bold acts. The strength of a team, a friendship, or a community depends not only on what is promised but also on what is honored in silence. Let your choices reflect this hidden code, and others will follow your lead.

First impressions when playing golf are intricate dances we do with each other. The only certainty? Your true self will shine through after 18 holes.

When I tee it up with strangers, I immediately notice their clothes, bag setup, and clubs. Before I even introduce myself, look them in the eye, and give them a firm handshake (a proper introduction will tell you a lot, more on that in a future post), I have a general idea of how someone views the game of golf.

In those first few seconds, I can get a grasp for if my playing companions for the day “get it” or not. Funny enough, my current criteria for whether they “get it” is if they could be a reader of TTC. Anyway, my batting average for guessing whether they “get it” is pretty good. The first tee draws the outline, and the ensuing 17 holes color between the lines and gives time for the paint to dry.

The unwritten rules of golf are vast, nuanced, and esoteric. Someone that has been around the game a long time will understand the rules and act upon them subconsciously. This person will understand that playing quickly, standing still when others are playing, and course maintenance (divots, ball marks, tees) are mere table stakes for any self-respecting player.

Some key red flags (not including clothing/clubs) I will see in players that don’t fully “get it”:

A few other honorable mentions? They ask and pry about work and want to play a big money match. I’m missing a bunch, but these are some easy ones to pick up.

Even after a solid introduction and impression, it’s hard for anyone to fake it for a full 18 holes. It’s either subconsciously ingrained or it isn’t. The unwritten rules loom large and never waver.

If you’re new to the game and don’t know where to start with learning some of the nuance, play with people that have played the game for a long time and are good players. If you’re thinking about joining a club in the near future, this is especially important.

The unwritten rules make golf the great gentlemen’s game. Without them? Well, we’re starting to see the impact of poor onboarding infrastructure at public courses across the country.

At the Maidstone Club in East Hampton, tradition is ladled out one bowl at a time. The house chowder, known quietly among members as “Golfer’s Stew,” has anchored lunches for decades. It blends the sea and the shore: monkfish, clams, and shrimp simmered with bacon, potatoes, onion, celery, and fresh herbs. A dash of paprika, Worcestershire, and Tabasco gives warmth without overwhelming the cream base.

Served with saltines and a crisp white, the dish embodies Maidstone’s blend of coastal austerity and clubhouse comfort.

You can check out the recipe here.

Let’s say you hit a tee shot and it comes to rest on a paved cart path (an immovable obstruction). The Rules of Golf (Rule 16.1) say you are entitled to free relief, a drop within one club length of the nearest point of complete relief, no nearer the hole.

But here’s the catch: at the nearest relief point, there are exposed tree roots or a bush that will make your next shot nearly impossible. Many players think they can choose a “better” drop spot, but the rules don’t allow that. Relief must be taken from the obstruction only, not for the tree roots (since they’re a natural part of the course).

You can:

The idea of carefully charting a golf course is so common today that it feels inseparable from the modern game. The first instance of yardage books actually came from a player’s own initiative. In the late 1950s, Deane Beman, a standout amateur and future PGA Tour commissioner, began walking courses with a notebook in hand. He paced off distances, sketched green outlines, and noted landmarks to guide his play.

This practice caught the eye of his peers. Jack Nicklaus, as a young amateur in the early 1960s, adopted the method and leaned on his hand-drawn notes at the 1961 U.S. Amateur. By the mid-1960s, the idea spread further when George Lucas, a caddie and later Tour pro, produced more formal printed books for players at Firestone and other venues. Within a decade, the “yardage book” had become a staple of professional golf, giving players precise reference points long before GPS or laser rangefinders.

My intention with BowtiedGolf is to grow it as the elite clubs do — through referrals.

If you’ve improved your look, laughed a little bit, or learned something because of this newsletter… why keep it to yourself?