If you peek into the boot of my car on any given Saturday, you’ll see the standard set-up: a hefty stand bag loaded with the latest carbon-faced driver, high-MOI irons, and enough technology to launch a satellite.
It is my ‘competition bag’, designed for one thing – optimal performance. It’s built to shave strokes and minimize the damage of a Sunday morning slice.
But tucked right next to it is a slim, slightly weathered, single-strap cloth Sunday bag, inside of which sits a half-set of (albeit modern) thin-topline blades, a rusty old putter, and a driver from the last millennium. This is my ‘fun Bag’, and honestly, it might be the best thing I’ve ever done for my game.
Article continues below
You may like
Sometimes, ‘Optimal’ is Overrated
(Image credit: Future)
We live in an era of “optimization.” We want the highest launch, the lowest spin, and the most forgiveness. But in our quest for the perfect scorecard, we often forget why we started hitting a little white ball around a field in the first place: the sheer joy of it.
(Image credit: Future)
There is an undeniable magic in almost any set of pure blade irons. They don’t have “speed pockets” or tungsten weighting or AI faces. They have soul. When you flush a small bladed 6-iron, the sensation is pure, unfiltered, and deeply nostalgic. My fun bag isn’t about shooting under par; it’s about the sensory experience of the game.
The ‘Hard Way’ is the Best Teacher
You might think playing with ‘difficult’ equipment is a recipe for frustration, but for me it’s actually the ultimate skill sharpener. Modern gear is so good at masking our flaws that we can become lazy.
When you switch to a fun bag filled with less-advanced equipment, your margin for error shrinks, and you have to narrow your focus: You can’t just “swing and pray” with a blade; you have to find the center of the face.
(Image credit: Future)
Furthermore, I really feel that the half-set element forces creativity upon you. With only six or seven clubs, you’re forced to hit a “soft” 7-iron or a “hooded” 9-iron to bridge the yardage gaps, which in itself is a skill worth sharpening.
Honestly, after an afternoon of punishing feedback from old steel, your modern, user-friendly cavity backs can make it feel like you’re playing golf on ‘easy mode’ when you put them back in the bag for the monthly medal.
What to read next
If It’s Good Enough for Robert Rock…
I’m not the only one who thinks this way. European Tour legend Robert Rock – a man known for having one of the most aesthetically pleasing swings in the world – is a huge advocate for the fun bag.
In a recent chat with Rob at his teaching studio in the Midlands, he told me that he’ll often grab a little cloth Sunday bag filled with old blades and a persimmon driver to head out for a few holes. He treats it as a mental reset.
If a professional who makes his living on precision sees the value in ditching the tech for a Sunday stroll with a wooden driver, there’s a lesson there for all of us. It’s about reconnecting with the roots of the sport.
Good for the Soul
There is a specific “vibe” to the fun bag that modern golf lacks. It’s the feeling of a single strap over your shoulder on a warm summer evening, the shadows lengthening across the fairway, and the bag being so light you almost forget it’s there.
(Image credit: Future)
It strips away the clutter. No rangefinder, no alignment sticks, no three-dozen premium balls – just you, a handful of clubs, and the grass. It’s meditative. It’s a reminder that golf doesn’t have to be a grind; it can be a walk with a purpose.
Dig through your garage. Find those old sticks you couldn’t bear to sell. Throw them in a pencil bag. The next time you have a spare hour on a Tuesday night, leave the competition bag at home. You might find that by playing a “worse” set of clubs, you actually have a much better time.