If you play golf, you know the truth: Golf clubs are inherently evil. Every one of them will betray you at some point. From your putter through your driver, each Hell spawn is just waiting for you to press the bet, or be two up with one to play (ask Phil), and when that moment comes, they stick it to you.

It doesn’t matter whether you're swinging a set you found at a garage sale with the initials “W.H.” scratched into the hickory shaft, or you're a sponsored, top-10 PGA pro using custom-fitted, computer tuned clubs. They will turn on you when you need them the most (ask Phil).

Well, it’s time we struck back, time to show these malicious artifacts that we will not be victims of their foul misdeeds.

You think I overstate the case? Let’s examine it more closely.

You’re serious about your game. You take lessons. You’ve been professionally fitted for your clubs, from driver to putter. You spend time on the range grooving your stroke. Perhaps you go as far as using video to detect swing flaws and find more power. You’ve even worked on the mental side, visualizing shots, doing relaxation drills, going to Dr. Bob’s website. And of course you dress for success, selecting fabrics and fashion that make you feel and look good when you stride onto the course.

Then, on the first tee, you pull out your new driver (an investment that would have sent your daughter to Harvard), tee up a ball that was unimaginable before the Pentium chip was developed and is guaranteed to go longer and straighter, and hit a slice so egregious the ball actually lands behind you.

How can that be your fault?

You were ready, the due diligence done; the lessons, the practice, the fabric that wicks . . . what happened?

Your driver screwed you, that’s what happened—and I for one am tired of letting it, and the rest of the unholy coven residing in my golf bag, get away with this stuff.

We need to start fixing the blame where it belongs and dole out punishment to the shafts that shaft us. These aren’t isolated incidents happening to bogey golfers at local munis, it’s everywhere, and as proof I enter the following testimony from Tiger Woods: “Fore right!”

This can end, but we have to be strong and unremitting and follow the latest in club penology.

PUTTERS: You can certainly bust a Woody Austin on your flat stick, but research shows putters have the best odds of being rehabilitated. Putters hate being in the dark. The best course of action is to throw them in the closet for anything from one week to four years. This usually brings them around.

WEDGES: A troublesome club, steeped in mythology, hence mythology is the best choice when dealing with a wedge. When the chili-dipping and three shots to get out of the sand become too much, smash your wedge, blade down, into the trap. It will stick there, like Excalibur, waiting for some other poor schmuck to pull it out—and remember, in the end, things didn’t work out that well for Arthur…or Phil.

IRONS: While individual irons can stick it to you, irons rely on CIW (Collective Ill Will). The 4 iron you shank today will be the beloved 7 iron you skull tomorrow. Throwing a single iron in the middle of the pond has limited effect. Studies show committing serious violence against one iron—drag it on the cart path, come over the top on that big oak tree, dig up your driveway with it—then putting it back in the bag will serve as a lesson to the other irons.

HYBRIDS: Hybrids haven’t been around long enough to exhibit any particularly evil traits—but clubs are known by the company they keep, so we’re watching.

DRIVER (aka Satan’s Stick): There is to date no defense against the unspeakable horror that comes with a driver (ask Phil). Neither casting it into the nearest tree nor back into the fiery bowels of Hell from whence it came seems to have any effect on its behavior. And lessons only make it madder.

This is the just beginning, my bogey plagued brothers, but if we make a stand here and now, we can cast off the shackles of our equipment and screw up the old fashioned way—on our own (ask Phil).

WR Marshall is a syndicated golf columnist based in Charleston, SC. Contact him via e-mail: wrmarshall@gmail.com