About

In the not-so-glorious aftermath of the pandemic, twelve men emerged from isolation battered, softened, and questioning many of life's choices. We entered 2021 carrying a few extra pounds courtesy of closed gyms and open coolers, sporting a little more gray hair from stress and family obligations, and wielding golf swings that looked less like athletic motions and more like collapsing patio furniture.

After a year spent trapped in our own corners of the world, the longing for competition, camaraderie, and a legitimate excuse to leave the house began to grow. Whispers of an idea, once confined to barstool conversations and group texts, became impossible to ignore.

What force could possibly lure twelve middle-aged men from the comfort of their recliners, garages, and excuses?

The answer was simple: A golf trip.

Or more accurately, the opportunity to beat one another at golf.

Thus began a noble mission: to create an annual battleground where friendship could be temporarily suspended in pursuit of victory, bragging rights, and the satisfaction of watching a buddy three-putt from six feet.

From the ashes rose The Shindy.

A yearly golf clash that pits friend against friend, brother against brother, and occasionally common sense against excessive confidence. Competitors travel from across these great United States to engage in a three-day struggle for pride, honor, glory, and, most importantly, possession of the legendary Hulk Trophy.

For three days, alliances are tested, excuses are manufactured, gimmees are debated, and dignity is frequently misplaced. Yet when the final putt falls and champions are crowned, rivalries are laid to rest for another year. The cup of brotherhood runneth over once again, usually filled, emptied, and refilled with ice-cold Coors Light.

For while The Shindy may begin as a battle, it always ends as it was intended:

Twelve (now 20!) friends raising a glass, telling lies about their golf games, and already planning next year's war.