The Rough Report

How one man’s quest to beat Kyle Taylor ended with him grounded, embarrassed, and possibly potty-trained by his wife

In the wild world of local golf legends, few names inspire laughter (and mild panic) quite like Johnny Davis.

Johnny’s the guy at your country club who talks about “going low” but is more likely to go OB. Yet somehow, in a blaze of false confidence and cheap beer, he once made the boldest bet of his life:

He challenged Kyle Taylor to play him straight up.

Now, let’s be honest: Kyle Taylor ain’t exactly lighting up the leaderboard. The man’s swing has more moving parts than a Swiss watch, and his putting stroke looks like he’s trying to catch invisible butterflies. But next to Johnny? Kyle might as well be Rory freakin’ McIlroy.

So when Johnny puffed out his chest and announced, “I’m takin’ Kyle DOWN!” the rest of us collectively knew what was about to happen.

Unfortunately—or conveniently—Johnny’s big match never happened.

Why? Because Johnny decided, at precisely 2:00 a.m., that it was a great idea to drive to Tunica for a little “light gambling.” Next thing you know, his wife laid down the law and put Johnny in Time Out. Like, actual grown-man grounded. No golf, no gambling, no nothing.

The Pee Problem

But that’s not Johnny’s only problem. Oh no.

See, Johnny has… a little quirk.

When he drinks too much (and let’s be honest, that’s often), Johnny turns into a territorial golden retriever. He starts peeing on everything. And I do mean everything.

Bushes. Lawn furniture. Fence posts. His wife’s laundry hamper. His own golf bag. One time, rumor has it, he tried to “mark” the 9th hole flagstick during a scramble.

And who’s left cleaning up this aquatic disaster? Johnny’s poor wife, who’s basically turned into a one-woman Hazmat crew. She’s following him around the yard with paper towels and disinfectant spray like she’s house-training a Labrador puppy. She’s probably one accident away from buying him doggy diapers on Amazon Prime.

His four-man scramble team is dropping faster than flies at a Raid convention. One guy said:

“Look, I love Johnny, but I’m not risking my driver smelling like a back-alley urinal cake.”

Another simply refuses to ride in a cart with him ever again, declaring:

“I’m not putting down a towel on the seat like I’m Ubering a toddler.”

Uncle Trevor is Tired

Johnny keeps claiming he’s “just a guy trying to win on the golf course,” but it’s looking bleak. Even Uncle Trevor—who’s been carrying Johnny both literally and figuratively for years—is ready to hang up his caddie bib. Word on the street is Uncle Trevor is considering faking a torn rotator cuff just so he won’t have to hoist Johnny’s clubs—or mop up any “incidents”—this season.

So there Johnny sits, stuck inside, grounded like a teenager, his clubs gathering dust, and his hopes of beating Kyle Taylor swirling the drain like… well… everything else he’s been spraying all over his backyard.

Was it all an elaborate scheme to avoid Kyle’s inevitable victory? Or is Johnny simply the tragic hero of his own pee-soaked Shakespearean comedy?

One thing’s for sure: until Johnny figures out how to keep both his drives and his bladder under control, his golf dreams—and his friendships—might be permanently stuck in Time Out.