An Open Letter to Jason Dufner


Dear Sir Dufner,


Er…how is it wherever you are right now? Presumably you are either at or near a golf course, in which case we’d agree that things are very well for you indeed. Especially if you’re hitting strong and straight off the tee (no greater feeling, really.) However, there is a remote chance you are reading this in the john, in an airport, or in a john at an airport. Not the most ideal of circumstances, but – much like a 5-foot putt that just baaaarely lips the hole on what would’ve been a crowning birdie – sometimes that’s the way life goes.

Ahem. Anyway.

Apologies, we’re fairly excited to be speaking with you. For a while we’ve admired your game on the tour – the ease of your swing, the ease of your posture, and the ease of which your hat hair blows in the breeze.

You are a man of class, taste and a Major champion. A man who knows how to win 18 holes and then conquer the 19th. A man who celebrates winning the PGA by seeing how many beers can be put inside the trophy. To put it rather bluntly, Mr. Dufner, we like the cut of your jib. And a jib as nicely-cut as yours deserves a fine cut of cloth to go with it.

In short, you, sir, are a Criquet man.

As the 16th greatest golfer in all the land, we know that your top priority is winning tournaments and kicking proverbial ass. That’s great, that’s your thing. Wearing super-awesome, vintage-inspired Criquet golf shirts made from organic cotton is probably a bit lower on your list. We’d just like to move it up a few notches.

You don’t even have to be the official sponsored golfer of Criquet Shirts, per se. It could just be something you put on in the morning when you go out to win huge golf tournaments. Or something you put on right after winning. You see, as we are the official sponsors of the 19th hole, it would only make sense that you were clad in something that says “I’m ready to properly toast my victory.” We think Criquet would look as natural on you as the Wanamaker trophy looks in your hands, and as good on you as your wife looks in your arms.

Speaking of, we would be remiss in neglecting to mention the ease of which Mrs. Dufner hits America’s eyes – that is to say, she is rather smoking. Like, Mickelson’s wife smoking. We mention this, of course, out of reverence for the good Lord’s handiwork and for the fact that you have chosen her to likewise bear the Dufner name. That, and you grabbed her posterior on national television after winning the Open. To this we respectfully doff our cap and say “well done.”

So. Where does this leave us?

Sir Duf (can we call you Duf?) we invite you to become the ambassador of the 19th hole. The official sponsor of winning tournaments and being an all-around bad ass. The badassamador, if you will. And, perhaps, the occasional wearer of 19th hole Criquet shirts.

On April 12th we’re going to host a Masters shindig in Austin. At the new Criquet Clubhouse on South 1st and Monroe. A tournament-watching/beer-drinking/BBQ-eating/scotch-quaffing/more-beer-drinking/llamas sort of thing. Everyone is invited.

Naturally, you’ll be playing in the Masters so we don’t expect to see you there. But let us posit this: go to the Shell Houston Open a couple weeks before, win it, then swing by for a celebratory whiskey in Austin. Do you like bourbon? We’re betting you like bourbon. And beer. And beer with a sidecar of bourbon.

It’s all coming together, Sir Duf. We’ll leave a glass out for you. And a few shirts. We think you’ll like ‘em.

Good luck. And be the ball,


EDITOR’S NOTE: With the recent sprung-ing of Spring, Noonan has felt the itch to get out on the course and “play a hole or 18 or 36 or 450.” He’ll be on hiatus for just a short while, hitting the links and the occasional bottle of scotch. If you see him, buy him a cold one and remind him that his editor is waiting for more material.