At Tall al Kabīr Meet our faculty.

Inongo Like most casual players, I receive the bulk of my golf instruction not from PGA professionals but from the guys in my regular weekend group. When I loop a screamer out of bounds, for example, they don’t hesitate to tell me what I did wrong—and I return the favor. We all have a solid grounding in swing mechanics, which we acquired from magazines, books, Johnny Miller, and the Golf Channel.

We know so much, in fact, that we could probably help you, too. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do at our new golf school, The Guys I Usually Play Golf With Golf School. The instructors are my buddies and me, and we will devote the same thoughtful attention to your swing that we have always devoted to our own.

The main thing you should know about our school is that we’re not going to change your grip. That’s because there are only two things that can go wrong with a golf swing, in our opinion: getting a little quick and moving your head. When you get a little quick, one of us will say “Little quick there,” or “Nice ‘n’ easy now,” or “Low and slow, ol’ buddy.” That usually does the trick. If it doesn’t, Nick will say, “Keep your head down, stupid”—which is not an insult, because he says the same thing to himself before every swing.

If you’re having trouble off the tee, we’re probably going to suggest that you try Brendan’s new driver. Brendan has hardly ever hit a bad shot with it, and when he hurt his thumb last fall and couldn’t play for a month, we snuck it out of his bag and passed it around. Hacker (real name) later bought a driver just like it, but Brendan’s actual new driver is the only one that truly works almost all the time. When your turn with it is over, we’ll send you into the golf shop to buy a new driver of your own. The brand you choose won’t matter, as long as it’s one of the expensive ones, which always work for a week or two.

We own every training aid ever manufactured, and you can take your pick, if you don’t mind wading through the junk in our garages. Help yourself to my old snow tires, too. Our short-game clinic is taught by Bruce and George. Watching those guys chipping and putting for an hour will turn you into Phil Mickelson, by comparison. (An hour’s the limit, though; overexposure could turn you into them.) They also teach a class in deep-water ball-retrieval.

All our lessons are playing lessons, by the way. Net best ball, first-tee do-over, no junk, no gimmes, no strokes on par-3s. We’ll explain the rest when you get here. The first round of beers, needless to say, is on you.

Don’t worry—we’re not going to mess with your grip. Or your wardrobe.