Saturday, August 17, 2024 at The Quarry at Crystal Springs, St. Louis, MO

NMXXII: A Golf Tournament Held Hostage by Grown Man Tantrums

Welcome to the Nino Memorial XXII — a golf tournament technically, but really more of a high-stakes group therapy session for emotionally unstable men with too much disposable income and not enough shame. There were golf clubs, sure — but the real tools on the course were the players.

Let’s start with Dave Hoffman, who once again said, “Yeah, no thanks” and peaced out before anyone could hold him accountable for whatever mysterious nonsense he’s been avoiding since NMXXI. Did he cancel a week early? Yes. Did he give a reason? No. Did anyone expect anything more from Dave “Ghost Protocol” Hoffman? Also no.

But forget Dave, because this year’s nuclear meltdown in khakis was none other than Tim Spiegelglass, who turned this tournament into his own personal Greek tragedy, starring himself as the hero, victim, and villain.

Let’s review the timeline of Tim’s public unraveling:

Step 1: Tim proposes the tournament date. Cool. Everyone agrees.
Step 2: Tim books a solo Jamaican vacation (??) and begs Jaeson Becker to secretly change the date because “his wife is out of town.” Sir, this is golf, not a secret mission. Chill.
Step 3: He swears he’ll handle everything. Tee times. Course. Logistics. Spoiler: he handled absolutely nothing.

Fast-forward to two weeks before go-time, and Tim casually announces the tournament will be played at Landings at Spirit, a course so uninspiring it makes public mini-golf look elite. This baffling choice sparked immediate backlash from Brett Bunsick, who dared to suggest, you know, a good course — The Quarry at Crystal Springs, home of NMXIX and happy memories.

But Tim, dialing in from his second tropical escape — this time in Costa Rica with the fam — went full deranged. While sipping piña coladas and probably wearing white-framed sunglasses, he accused everyone of mutiny, screamed about “vacation sabotage,” and threatened to kill Brett Bunsick over a tee box change. That’s right. Golf. Death threats. Totally balanced behavior.

By tournament day, you’d think he’d cooled off. LOL. Nope. Instead, Tim physically cornered Brett, hissed some Mafia-level threat (“Don’t ever cross me again”), and then stalked off like a Disney villain with a sand wedge. Bunsick, visibly shaken, spent most of the day wondering if he smoked too much weed or if he was just having a slow-motion panic attack.

The Scorecard of Shame (and Some Talent):

5th Place (83): Former champs Scott Chelist & Matt Berman, who quit speaking by hole 13 and now communicate exclusively through death stares. Congrats on being the first team to emotionally divorce mid-round.
4th Place (82): Bryan Sanger & Phil Ruben. Bryan did win long drive, but let’s focus on Phil — the only Decader to never win. Not once. He’s allergic to the top of the leaderboard. At this point, someone check his clubs for a curse.
3rd Place (81): Tim Spiegelglass & Jeremy Klaven, aka Team Dysfunction. Jeremy said Tim threatened to never play again with every missed putt. Honestly, we’d all love to hold him to that.
2nd Place (76): Jaeson Becker, Brett Bunsick & Robbie Mentle. Robbie started rough, then turned into Tiger Woods circa 2000 and carried the team. Brett, still sweating from his verbal beatdown, kept blaming booze, but we all know Tim’s threats broke his soul.
??1st Place (75): Dane Kearns & AJ Abrams. FINALLY. Dane, the perennial hard-luck story of the Nino Memorial, came out swinging. This man has literally been hit by a golf ball, crashed a cart, and broken his leg in past tournaments. This year? Flawless victory. AJ called it the best performance he’s ever seen. We call it justice.

But the final act of Tim’s one-man Broadway breakdown? He refused to attend the award ceremony. That’s right — in the most predictable diva move ever, Tim stormed off the course, drove straight to Hooters, and licked his wounds in a booth surrounded by curly fries and regret.

The group, being equal parts petty and iconic, brought the award ceremony to Hooters, because of course they did. Oh, and thanks to Tim’s dramatic exit, there was no group photo this year — for the first time ever. Because one man couldn’t handle mild course criticism.

Final Thoughts:

Was NMXXII a golf tournament? Barely.

Was it a toxic bro soap opera with balls and polos? Absolutely.

Will anyone recover emotionally? Unlikely.

Will we be back for NMXXIII? Oh, hell yes. Because no matter how much chaos, spite, or emotional instability floods this tournament, it’s still the most entertaining trainwreck this side of Augusta.

See you next year — if Tim doesn’t flee to Bora Bora mid-fairway.

aa + ChatGPT