Jon Rahm wants what every golfer in the world desires for the PGA Tour professionals.
When I was 15 years old, my dad took me to my first-ever PGA Tour event. Taking me to the Barclays Classic was a surprise, but after finishing a grueling standardized test at a facility 20 minutes from Westchester Country Club, my dad thought it would be fun to purchase last-minute tickets for his golf-obsessed son.
For an event I had no framework for, I was excited for the unknown — walking the behemoth course, feeling the ambiance created by the fans, and witnessing brilliant golfers. Other than father-son bonding time, the crux of my experience would be appreciating the presence of the world's best golfers, and watching these masters at their craft.
But on that day and spanning the 17 years since, only one memory endures. It doesn't involve a majestic shot, the impossible beauty of a championship course, or even the panoply of concessions.
My only memory is of brushing shoulders with Brad Faxon… as he was coming out of the porta-potty.
Considering my first memory of a PGA tournament is bumping into a golfer walking out of a smelly green vestibule, it only feels right to opine on Jon Rahm's campaign for more on-course porta potties.
On Tuesday, days before the first leg of the FedEx Cup Playoffs, Rahm took a fresh stance on freshening up.
Although his remark was in reference to potential improvements for PGA Tour players, Rahm opened up Pandora's box for us mortal golfers. On behalf of the millions of weekend golfers, I would like to address this bathroom situation for our own golfing experience.
Jon Rahm's need for more bathrooms extends beyond just the PGA Tour
Neck-and-neck with the sparsity of drinkable water (fountains or YETI coolers with bottles are just fine), the lack of bathrooms might be the on-course glitch that irks me most. At least the cart girl can profit off our thirst. But who stands to gain when you can't relieve yourself?
I've probably put more thought into the ennui of the on-course bathroom than 90% of you. In fact, my buddy and I conduct our own on-course bathroom reviews of Colorado's courses. The data isn't written down or narrated into some fringe Instagram page — @GolfCoursePottyReviews would be cool — but we take our toilet time seriously enough to rate attributes like scent source (Febreeze, candle, au natural, etc.), sunlight access, flooring material, and overall breathability.
Contrary to my standards, Rahm's not asking for some state-of-the-art porcelain, bidet-infused experience. He simply wants access to a porta-potty on every hole. It's completely understandable considering nature calls him multiple times a round and the resulting lack of privacy has made him fodder for sophomoric humor.
But given the context of my golfing experience, I agree with Rahm. The more enclosed bathrooms, the better.
Back to my golf bathroom connoisseurship. Most public courses have one to two on-course "destination" bathrooms. If you're lucky, they'll intersect with multiple holes (covering holes on both the front AND back nine). In the more unfortunate situations, the destination bathroom sits at an arbitrary hole — requiring Pavlovian conditioning of your bladder to wake up as you drive towards the 13th tee.
If you don't want to wait for the on-course bathroom, you have other options:
- Go into the clubhouse (inconvenient option)
- Going in the bushes (tried and true option)
- Attempting the " not as inconspicuous as you think" pee behind that one exposed tree (the funniest option)
I once played with an extremely drunk sexagenarian who, while pushing his pushcart, was looking for a single tree on this links course. Unable to find his nearest point of relief, he stopped in the middle of the fairway, scanned the area for onlookers, and whipped out his utility club…I guess there's that option as well.
Our potty paladin Rahm would never do such a heinous act. He's trying to keep it professional and reasonable. He's not advocating for frolicking off to the woods or for building structures requiring plumbing; Just more portable enclosed areas, so he can spend more time focusing on his putts and not his putz.
Rahm's remark was a respite from the usual derivative press conference chitchat. Unlike a golfer describing how it felt to shoot 65 or to make a putt for $2 million, Rahm got down to our level. He's reminding us that the best golfers in the world also suffer repercussions from hydrating like hell during a 90-degree day or, worse, from overdoing the breakfast buffet with one extra helping of grits.
Furthermore, addressing the PGA Tour's bathroom situation has to be one of the more considerate suggestions. I guarantee hundreds of pro golfers (playing now and in previous eras) have felt similarly, but deemed the topic too embarrassing to propose.
Perhaps my resonance with Rahm parallels why my chance encounter with Brad Faxon was so exhilarating. As silly as it sounds, "going to the bathroom" is a totem that evokes relatability.
For us to better enjoy the spectacle of superstardom, whether from athletes or entertainers, we need reminders that their transcendent greatness originated from a corporeal vessel akin to us, mere earthlings.
To appreciate the greatest ball-striking, mentally toughest, pressure-defying golfers in the world, we need that reminder they're just like us.
