“Stick” : Golf. Feelings. Plaid. God Help Us.
Right. So I sat down to watch Stick on Apple TV+, fully expecting to endure 45 minutes of people in visors whispering about wind speed and turf quality. And yet — somehow — I emerged from the first episode emotionally compromised and inexplicably Googling “golf holidays in Scotland.”
Stick is the story of Dan "Stick" Sullivan, a man whose talent for hitting small balls with long sticks. Washed-up, emotionally constipated, and armed with a 9-iron and the kind of emotional baggage Ryanair would charge double for, he returns to his hometown and brace yourself, finds redemption. Through golf.
Now, before you roll your eyes so hard they get stuck, let me explain: this is not a show about golf. It’s a show about life, cleverly disguised as a series of duffed chip shots and whiskey fueled arguments beside water hazards.
The local golf course? Less Augusta National, more post-apocalyptic dog park with flags.
The characters? An ensemble of glorious disasters, including:
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A teenager with daddy issues and a swing that could decapitate a squirrel,
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A woman who manages the clubhouse like she’s running MI6,
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And a kilt-wearing Scotsman named Craig who speaks only in glottal stops and the occasional quote from Braveheart.
And Stick himself? Imagine if Clint Eastwood and Phil Mickelson had a baby and abandoned it emotionally at age 12.
Highlights?
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The moment he teaches a teenager how to pitch and process the fact his dad left him for a yoga instructor named Sky.
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A monologue delivered to a dying golf cart that left me feeling things I haven’t felt since the Top Gear special.
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And look, I’m not saying I cried, but I did suddenly need to “check on the dog” and “open a window” because “something got in my eye.”
In Summary:
Stick is equal parts hilarious, tragic, and absurdly moving. It's Ted Lasso for people who think hugging is a bit much. A show where the fairway isn't the only thing getting repaired.
You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll wonder why you’re crying about golf. And then you’ll book a lesson and accidentally heal your childhood trauma.
Only three episodes in, and I’m already more emotionally invested than I’ve ever been in my actual golf handicap. If the next ones don’t include a tearful putting scene in the rain, a slow clap, and someone storming off in tartan trousers, I’ll be deeply disappointed and also lying, because I’ll still watch every second.
Brilliant television. Shouldn’t work. Does. Damn it. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
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