Beverage of the Week: Fore's golf cocktails know exactly to whom they're marketing

Welcome back to FTW’s Beverage of the Week series. Here, we mostly chronicle and review beers, but happily expand that scope to any beverage (or food) that pairs well with sports. Yes, even cookie dough whiskey.

Golf was not fun for me for a while. Being a member of Rhode Island’s third-worst high school golf team was part of this.

While our status on the team afforded us perks none of us public school reprobates could otherwise afford — access to private country clubs to the largest of eye rolls, golf balls that weren’t fished out of brackish ponds, occasional access to bathrooms with combs soaked in jars of bright blue barbershop fluids — the arduousness of being bad at the sport took a toll. Golf, it turns out, is not especially fun when you’re bad at it and have to count every stroke, especially if it comes while dorks from local private schools are bad at hiding derisive scoffs.

The game came back to me in graduate school. Not because of any love for it, but because a local Nashville municipal course could be played for $8 per round and, well, there wasn’t much else to do with all the money of a $550 per month research assistant stipend. From there, everything made sense. Not because of inherent talent that had suddenly been tapped or learned skill from hours of practice, but the fact I could sneak a six pack of beer in my bag with a couple ice packs and write off any shot that caromed into the woods as a practice stroke.

This is how my appreciation of golf persists. Not as a competitive endeavor, but as parts of scrambles where my ability to contribute a decent shot one in four tries is almost as appreciated as my ability to sneak a cooler into the back of my cart. Fore Craft Cocktails understands this. Fore Craft Cocktails would like to help.

Fore has taken the most-requested cocktails at the turn and packaged them into cans you can clandestinely slide into your golf bag. That includes your standard, early morning bloody Mary, an Arnold Palmer with vodka (known as the John Daly), an azalea and an infusion. Each sounds great on its own. But will they be able to match the quality of a grumpily mixed solo cup by a local grandmother behind the clubhouse bar?