Feherty Show: Mr. Monday Night

Feherty Show:  Well folks, looks like televised golf has pretty much packed it in until next spring, unless of course you’re strange enough to enjoy watching European Tour events at 8 am on a Saturday morning while your 18 month-old throws remnants of breakfast at your head (guilty). No more legit tournaments, no more Tiger, and no reason to watch anything other than football on a Sunday. So now what?

European Tour recent camera upgrades

 

I’m not claiming television gold here just yet, but I would suggest giving “Feherty Show” a shot. Anyone who’s been within orbital distance of professional golf over the last 15 years is familiar with David Feherty – he’s the Irish guy who almost singlehandedly brought humor into televised golf (okay McCord, you too). So now he has his own show . . . I’ve always known the guy is TV worthy, but I wasn’t sure whether to expect just a longer version of the hot-shot King Cobra ads or some other type of zany “nothing actually happens” programming.

Well . . . “Feherty” is basically an interview show, with our host going out to visit his guests at their location of choice, usually the guest’s house or ranch or whatever else the ludicrously rich people like to call home. You’ll chuckle at the little snippets of Feherty trying to ride a horse with his usual running commentary, or you might feel a slight cringe when you watch him do his somewhat contrived standup routine to a room of 7 – 9 weirded out “friends”, but the bulk of the show is a one-on-one interview with his guests.

To that end, what I have seen so far is a fantastic look into the personalities of notable golfers, caddies, and other celebrities, as well as some great insight into the goings-on of the Tours themselves. Amidst the cloud of self-deprecation that Feherty has surrounded himself with over the last decade, the fact remains that he was a world-class golfer with a Ryder Cup and some big wins to his name. And this might be what makes his show stand out the most – a true peer with a true sense of humor (sorry Nick and Johnny) going at it with some of golf’s greatest. A quickdirty list of guests would include Tom Watson, Greg Norman, Ian Poulter (who is incidentally way cooler than you might think), Charles Barkley, Fluff and Bones (also my grandfather’s nickname), Don Cheadle, and Darren Clarke. Each of the above mentioned episodes brings something to the table that golf spectators have either deserved for a long time or will really want to see. Highlights include:

Feherty explaining the yips to Charles Barkley in the most simple, down-to-earth way I’ve heard yet. And yes, I’ve researched the yips. I just like to know about stuff. Whatever.

Feherty revealing that he was pulled out of his alcoholic rock-bottom by Tom Watson extending an invite to come sober up at his ranch – this offer was made during an interview Feherty conducted of Watson and Nicklaus, in which Jack simply exclaimed “David, you look like sh-t!”. Bonus tidbit- Tom Watson was once an alcoholic (I’m not reveling in that fact, I just never would have known it).

Fluff and Bones talking about . . . ANYTHING! I’d watch a 45 minute special on a caddie cleaning his garage if he promised to tell me at least one story about what happens inside the ropes. They’ve got to be the least “asked” people on the planet as compared to how valuable their stories are.

Darren Clarke and Feherty hanging out and unintentionally exposing how truly tight the Irish crew is.

-Witnessing billionaire Greg Norman acknowledge that he had just smelled one of Feherty’s famous dragbunts, stating that he now had to “wipe it off of his teeth”. I’ve yet to see Donald Trump get down and dirty like that.

Woops, spoiler alert I suppose. Sorry about that, I guess I like “Feherty” even more than I thought. I’d say if you are devoid of a social life and have a jones for all things golf like the Three Guys, this show comes highly recommended.

 

Written by Matt Murley
I’ve been playing golf for a long time, but every year brings new adventures with my game. I pay zero attention to statistics, refuse to register any playing partner’s GPS readings that get barked out from the cart, and generally shave .8 strokes off my game with each beer that goes down the gullet.