One of my favorite playing companions and a pseudo member of the Gates Four Gangsome (which means he’d love to be a part of that ­illustrious group) goes by the nickname of Putterboyd, a clever play on the Pinehurst Resort Putterboy and his last name, which we won’t reveal here — at least until family members have been notified.

Anyway, Putterboyd sends me some enlightening emails on occasion, not to even mention a ton of spam, and one of those I recently received was just too good to keep to myself. So, at the risk of deeply offending some of my more liberal friends and readers (both of them), I’m sharing the missive.

It reads:

“I am a member of golf’s 99 percent. I play golf when I feel like it, but have not yet made it to the professional level. I have played the game for over 50 years, but have not really put in the practice time and study to be the best. I also probably do not have the skills to really get there, either. And let’s face it — I’m kind of lazy.

“However, I now feel that I should be paid by the successful dedicated golf professionals for sort of trying. It isn’t fair that those players who have worked harder, have studied the game, have better equipment and are stronger and more skilled, should make all that BIG money.

“Where’s my share?

“Oh, sure, they have their charities that they give millions of dollars to, but I’m sure that they write all that off on their tax returns to reduce paying their fair share. Is that fair?

“They should pay for my golf, buy me new equipment and pay me some of their winnings. The whole system should be changed to accommodate people like me!

“Let’s occupy a golf course or two — or three — and demand that those who are better at what they do pay for us who aren’t as good. Whining should get us something … like media attention and sympathy.”

Oh boy, Putterboyd, you have done it now.

Another instance of how golfers can also be funny people happened in my foursome the other day.

I was playing with Bubba, Puddin’ and Boss Hawg when I noticed that Bubba was teeing his ball up some six feet behind the tee markers. Puzzled, I politely inquired as to why he was doing this.

“Bubba, you dimwit,” I asked, “Why are you teeing up six feet behind the tee markers?”

Bubba gave me one of those “what an idiot” stares and explained.

“I was getting another lesson from my ol’ buddy Rob Pilewski the other day and he told me that if I teed up slightly behind the markers, it would make me extend my arms on the follow through. Made sense to me.”

Well, you can’t argue with that kind of logic, but I felt it was my duty to share some personal knowledge with Bubba.

“Bubba,” I said, in the spirit of full disclosure, “Do you realize that right now, this minute, there are half a dozen guys standing in line at Robert’s Golf Store getting ready to pay $400 apiece for drivers that promise to give them an extra two yards?

“All you have to do is move up in the tee box.”

But Bubba ignored my advice. Which leads me to a short story as to why he might have ignored my advice. Bubba doesn’t think like a lot of us.

For instance, he was making a call to Robert’s Golf Store the next day to find out if they had any of those magical drivers left in stock. When he couldn’t get through after maybe a dozen calls, he dialed the operator.

“I’ve been calling 700-1000 for two days and can’t get through,” Bubba complained. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Where did you get that number, sir?” the operator inquired.

“It’s on the door of the business,” Bubba explained, a little on the exasperated side.

“Sir,” the operator gently explained, “those are the hours the business is open.”

You see why I don’t give up golf, even when I can’t break 90 anymore?

How can you just walk away from guys like Putterboyd and Bubba?

Contact Howard Ward by email at howardward@att.net.