"I was All-State my junior and senior year in high school," Mr. I Coulda Been Somebody tells you. He definitely has skills- you can see it in his swing- but he reminds you every 3 holes. "I actually beat Tiger Woods once when we were 9-year-olds. I was going to the show- until I broke my thumb senior year at Oklahoma State. Was never the same after that."

"Uh, you have to count that stroke," Mr. Rule Book tells you. "According to the amended USGA rulebook- Section 4, Paragraph 2, you may replace your ball within two club lengths no nearer the hole or a Democrat. Failure to do so is a one stroke penalty."

Let Me Put the Flag Back Guy insists on putting the flag back on every hole. If you putt out and then pick up the flag to wait for the others to putt he will rush over to you and say, "I got it. Thanks." This dude perplexes me. I don't know if he used to be a caddy, is anal-retentive, or likes to be super-helpful.

Sometimes he'll grab the flag as you are inches away from putting it back yourself.

"Don't worry about it! I got it!" he says as he snatches it away.

Mr. "Is-That-My-Ball?" will constantly walk up to your ball, which is clearly marked in 7 day-glow markers, and ask "Is that my ball?"

At least 6 times during the round he will stand over your ball ready to hit it until you say, "Uh, were you playing a ball with more graffiti on it than a school in the Bronx? I think that's my ball you are getting ready to slice into the lake."

Plumb-Bob Guy evaluates a putt from every direction. First they stand behind the ball and plumb-bob their putter as if they are surveying new road construction. They don't feel confident until they consult a U.S. Corps of Engineers topographic map they have spread out on a Black and Decker Workmate set up on the green. Then they take a soil sample to determine moisture content and grass variety. By this time you've sat in the fairway so long waiting for them to clear the green you get hungry so you build a fire and roast hot dogs.

As his game deteriorates over 18 holes he starts blaming the course.

"Don't they ever mow this rough?"

"What is the stimpmeter on this green? Zero?"

"This course has gone to hell!"

"Is the greenskeeper on crack?"

Mr. What Flag? never, ever, never puts the flag back in the hole. That's the kind of menial work best served by, say, anyone he happens to be playing with. He might be standing right next to it and all has to do is bend down to pick it up. But no, it must be his poor eyesight because he never sees it. It is like it doesn't exist in his mind.

Mr. Hard on Himself loves to berate himself after every shot. He does this because he thinks that's how good golfers act.

He may hit a towering three-iron draw to 5 feet of the pin at which point you say, "Nice shot!"

He replies angrily, "Yeah but I left myself a downhill putt", or some other such mutterings.

A close cousin of Mr. Did You See My Ball?, this guy enlists you as his personal caddy. He's not asking if you merely saw the shot, he is asking if you did your job and watched his shot every second and can point out exactly what tree he hit. Expect to be caddying all day, as he will do this on every shot.

Mr. I'll Find It spends 20 minutes looking for a lost ball. These thrifty golfers organize a safari with tents and camping gear and push further and further into the underbrush. One of the adventurers cries out, "Eureka, we've found it, I see a Titleist at the bottom of that ravine!"

You shank a 3-iron to the right rough. "I saw it!" he says. "It just went over the cart-path!"

Oddly, the ball is not there. It never is where he says it will be. The false hope he builds up results in disappointment every time.

"Wow! I was sure it would be right there!" he points at the ground.

Except that it's not.

You'll forget he's even in your group. Quiet guy doesn't enter into conversation or make any sound at all. That has it's benefits. But after a couple hours of complete silence it starts to get creepy.

After chunking, chili-dipping and slicing into the trees all day, this golfer announces "I'm usually better than this." This is sometimes followed by a medical excuse: "This sprained wrist is killing me."

This guy has the latest Callaway Big-As-Half-a-Loaf-of-Rye-Bread Bertha. He had the first metal woods on the market. He had the first graphite shafts. He had the first titanium. He scours golf magazines looking for articles like, "Will the New Kryptonite Shafts Help YOUR Game?" All day he must tell you what equipment you should have, "You should get a Tight Lies. You would have hit a good shot there with a Tight Lies."

Mr. Instructor offers golf tips without anyone asking for them. He has every golf book, video and gadget and is hell-bent on sharing this knowledge with everyone he comes into contact with (despite his 20 handicap).

Exact Yardage Guy needs to know the exact yardage at all times. "Is the pin at the front of the green or the back? What does the yardage on that drain say? Let me check my course guide- it says it is 183 yards from this eucalyptus tree." After tearing up some grass and throwing it in the air they say, "Looks like about a half club breeze." This wouldn't be so bad if he did it quickly but he evaluates every yard like he is planning a construction site.

The opposite of Quiet Guy, Mr. Talk Talk can't shut up. His signature move: he keeps talking while the other three golfers in the foursome are teeing off-- he thinks he is lowering his voice but it in reality he has just brought it down to normal speaking level. Most of the time his buddies are used to it and laugh it off or ignore him. The people putting on the green behind him are not so lucky.

Every time you turn around Gotta Go Guy is answering the call of nature. His bladder is smaller than a ball marker.

On a par 4 you watch this golfer hit two shots OB. Later he takes three shots to get out of a green-side trap, blades his chip back across the green again and then four-putts. Heading back to the cart he calls out to his buddy, "Give me a six."

He leans over and tees up his ball. He stands behind the ball to start his pre-shot routine. Not satisfied with the where the ball is teed, he moves it to the other side of the tee-box and begins his routine again. Still not happy, he moves the ball to the middle of the teeing area. You are so happy when he tees off that you don't see his ball sailing into the lake.