A Shared Grudge, a Winning Bond: How a Father & Son United Against CBS Drones at the Canadian Open

The Canadian Open showcased a powerful father-son duo: Robert Macintyre and his caddy dad. Macintyre provided a heartwarming story for the PGA Tour season, relatable to many amateur golfers. While some amateurs play with their dad for a post-round beer at the local course, Macintyre's stakes were much higher: securing qualification for major events like this year's U.S. Open, next year's Masters, and a two-year PGA Tour exemption.

This dynamic duo added a wholesome touch to the event, something Canadians particularly appreciate, especially considering Macintyre's Scottish heritage. However, the wholesomeness was occasionally disrupted by a CBS drone.

Macintyre became visibly agitated by the drone's presence on several occasions, backing off shots and gesturing frustration. It's worth noting that both Macintyres displayed moments of animation throughout the tournament because of the drone, and literally nothing else. In today's world, drones are commonplace at televised golf events.

Drone Frustration: A Sign of Emotional Intelligence?

Initially, the drone complaint seemed trivial. However, it could be interpreted as pent-up anxiousness finally released in his dad's presence. Perhaps Macintyre subconsciously knew his "boomer dad" would understand his dislike for the unfamiliar technology. After all, the "back in my day" complaints about modern pieces of technology is commonplace amongst all fathers, boomers or not. 

Macintyre's frustration could be a sign of emotional intelligence and self-awareness – qualities that might make him a consistent threat on tour, especially with his dad on the bag.

Just like shot selection on the course, there are moments to express frustration that can lead to better performance. The caddy-player relationship is unique in professional sports, and adding a father-son dynamic introduces a layer of self-monitoring.

Uncertainties and Moving Forward

Perhaps I'm misinterpreting the situation. Maybe Macintyre's comfort with his dad eliminates self-monitoring, allowing him to thrive as his true self. Perhaps he hasn't found a caddy who unlocks this true potential.

Regardless of the interpretation, one thing is clear: the caddy-player relationship is complex.

Whether Macintyre needs a "second dad" for complete self-expression or just a caddy who promotes focus and minimizes external distractions (like drones), finding the right fit is crucial. If he doesn't address this by the US Open, the drone incident might be just a temporary release valve. 

Alternatively, he might simply need a caddy who understands his dislike for drones. Maybe Macintyre just wanted to play golf with his dad without the drone intrusion, and who could blame him. 

This frustration could be interpreted as a young player's discomfort with new technology on the course – a classic "get off my lawn" moment, albeit unexpected for a 27-year-old professional golfer like Macintyre. 

Drones are hardly a novelty in professional golf. This wasn't Macintyre's first encounter with them at a tournament, either. 

I'm curious to see how he reacts when he appears on a YouTube channel like Rick Shiels', where close-up drone footage is a staple. It might be his kryptonite, or it might even fuel his best performance under pressure. 

US Open Challenges

With a more traditional sports fan base attending and watching the US Open, the CBS drone might be the least of Macintyre's concerns.

Ultimately, the Canadian Open offered a heartwarming story and a glimpse into the complexities of the caddy-player relationship, especially when a father enters the mix. The drone incident adds another layer to the story, highlighting potential psychological frustrations between the ears of lesser experienced golfers when they are under the microscope searching for their first PGA tour win.