Lee Geiger

The only thing tougher to escape than Irish sand traps are Irish pubs.

Tom Coyne

Two weeks from today, my feet, back and liver will sacrifice themselves upon the alter of the golf gods for an 8-day sojourn through Dublin and Northern Ireland to savor one of the last sanctuaries of the endangered adult male; the Buddy Boondoggle. I’ve longed for years to play the seaside links of the Emerald Isle, and nothing whispered “just do it” more than the opportunity to stroll across miles of lush fairways and guaff gallons of chewy Guinness while simultaneously espousing humor and lies with a crew of bedraggled over-the-hill duffers from the illustrious Moraga Mafia.

Those in the know will recognize the storied course lineup, known by some as the Stout Trail:

• Royal County Down- Ranked #1 in the world by Golf Digest
• Pormarnock- Ranked #25 by Golf Digest
• Royal Portrush- Site of the 2019 Open Championship and ranked #27 by Golf Digest
• Portstewart- Site of the 2017 Irish Open, hosted by defending champion Rory McIIroy
• County Louth (Baltray)
• The European Club
• The Island Club

For one glorious week, our aging eightsome will relish in the Irish traditions of a timeless game, reveling in the glorious grandeur of Ireland’s rugged coastline. We’ll also indulge our quest to discover the perfect pub, a dubiously delicious task this fermented fraternity will enjoy as much as the golf.

I’ve been blessed to have participated in over two dozen of these buddy bonding excursions, and by trial and error I’ve learned a lot about what makes a trip successful. Here’s what has worked for me:

Invites– Everyone is going to be spending A LOT of time together, both on and off the course, so it helps to have the right mix of dudes. There’s nothing worse than having some dope who is too serious, too noncompetitive, or too clueless to know his audience. In short, don’t invite anyone who “doesn’t get it.”

Venue– Not everyone swims at the same end of the financial pool. Besides, buddy trips are ultimately about the people, not the panorama. The quartet of Top-100 courses at Bandon Dunes are great, but there is nothing wrong hacking your ball around Bayonet and Black Horse in Monterey. That being said, this group is going to Ireland because, A) it’s on our Bucket List, B) we can still walk, and C) we’re still breathing. Plus, our wives signed our permission slips.

Size- I’m all about the intimacy. Eight is great, and twelve is fun. Anything larger can turn into work.

Administration– When it comes to managing buddy trips, “democracy” is a dirty world. Elect someone to act as dictator. This helps silence the whiners, naysayers and independent thinkers. The Moraga Mafia usually designates two captains who are charged with selecting a venue, picking teams, assigning foursomes, arranging games and, most important, making hotel and dinner reservations. And if they’re really good, we may even let them chose the wine.

Gamesmanship– The Moraga Mafia prefers to play for pride, not dollars. This helps to limit the number of on-course fist fights and calls home pleading for mercy. And we lean toward the liberal side of the putt-concession scale, which borders on the alt-left the older we get. Lastly, when it comes to the Rules of Golf, one local rule stands above all the rest; this ain’t the U.S. Open.

Traditions– If you’re able to dupe your wives on a regular basis, you’ll do these trips again and again. Award a handsome trophy that sits on the fireplace mantle to the trip’s most valuable (though not necessarily the best) golfer. Then hand out a wrestling belt or some goofy, handmade piece of disaster for the luckiest shot, worst round, or dumbest joke. But if someone shocks the world and jars a hole-in-one, the magnums of Chateau de Expensive are on them.

Watch this space next month for Prophets filled with stories of fear and loathing in Ireland. God willing, I’ll be able to remember a few.