Editorial
Affluent Golfer Is Back. It Brought the Good Stories.
The print issues are history. The golf, the characters, and the questionable confidence on the first tee are still very much with us. The old issues of Affluent Golfer have the particular smell of a good time capsule: ink, ambition, and probably a cigar somebody insisted was “smooth.”
One surviving cover is dated January–February 2001 and priced at five dollars. Inside, the masthead credits SHR Publications, Inc.; publisher Scott Rettberg; associate publisher Keith James; editor Helen Rettberg; associate editor and senior writer Wil Barnes; and art director and staff photographer Dean Kirkland. The contributing writers included Terry Ross, Dave Smith, Brian Preston, and Arthur Hirsch.
That’s not just a list of names. It’s a reminder that the magazine had a point of view and people putting it on the page.
The covers announced Clint Eastwood: actor, director, developer, politician, golfer. Another brought in John O’Hurley, actor, comedian, television host, golfer, and apparently the sort of person you could put on a boat and trust to keep the conversation moving. Eddie Merrins, the “Little Pro,” got a visit, too. And one international travel issue put Jack Nicklaus, Scotland, Thailand, Canada, Dove Canyon, Whisper Rock, and Frank Sinatra’s party in the desert into the same orbit. Subtle? No. But a magazine about golf should occasionally swing for the pin.
The contents page was called The Line Up, and that line-up had range. “The Greatest Golfer of All Time” sat beside “Jack at the Masters.” “Cigars 101,” by Arthur Hirsch, shared the issue with a ritzy weekend in Palm Springs, golf in Thailand, and a trip to Scotland. There was even “Counting on Cards,” about Mensa members cleaning out casinos. Apparently the old magazine understood that after a round of golf, some people want a cigar, some want a travel itinerary, and some want to know whether the casino has checked its math.
And then there was Yips & Shanks, a department name that tells you the editors knew golf is not always a string of crisp iron shots and tasteful applause. Sometimes the ball goes sideways, the putter develops a personal grievance, and a man who just bought a driver for the price of a used sedan discovers that the problem was, in fact, his swing.
The magazine’s publisher’s letter, “A Game for Friendship,” makes the larger idea clear. Golf could be business, sure. But the writer had little patience for the executive who joined a group only to pitch everyone for eighteen holes. The best memories were rounds with his father, friends, and the people who made the day worth remembering. That still feels like the right place to start.
So we’re bringing Affluent Golfer back—not as a museum exhibit with a login button, but as a living magazine for the world around the game: Inside the Gates, A Round With..., Tasting Room, Smoking Room, The Garage, What’s in the Bag, and, naturally, Yips & Shanks. The names have a little clubhouse polish. The stories can still get their shoes dirty.
Print was the past. Digital is the future. It’s a tidy slogan, and like most tidy slogans, it leaves out the part where people enjoy touching things. Fine. Now you can touch the magazine on your iPhone, laptop, or iPad. A screen is still an object. It’s right there in your hand. You can tap it, swipe it, drop it on your face while reading in bed. Try that with a hardcover and you’ll need a chiropractor and a stronger nightstand.
The point isn’t that paper was wrong or that the internet has finally learned manners. The point is that the format changed and the appetite didn’t. People still want a good story, a useful recommendation, a place worth traveling to, and a reason to stay at the table after the final putt.
And since this is golf, let’s finish with the necessary warning: the magazine can be revived, the stories can be edited, the photographs can be beautifully composed, and the website can load on every device known to a civilization that put a camera in a doorbell. None of this will improve your short game. The app can’t make you read a putt. The iPad won’t stop you from saying “I usually hit this club better.” And no amount of editorial oversight can make “I found it” mean anything other than “I found it after everyone else stopped looking.”
But we can bring back the good stuff: the characters, the places, the detours, the jokes, the occasional cigar, and the story you tell later that improves by at least three strokes every time. Affluent Golfer is back. Your scorecard may remain uncooperative.