Dress: Well-cut slacks, Pringle cardigan, polo-neck and/or shirt, horrible cap
Hair: Sensible to a degree that's borderline OCD
Personality: Blustering bluffer with an opinion on everything - and quite possibly the most boring man in recorded history - but harmless enough
Shape: Turning tubby from a little too much time "sinking a few" at "the nineteenth hole"
And: The fact that golf is so slow-paced, time has actually been known to go in reverse while it's being played
Spends every available moment: Dinking little white balls into flagged holes across an immaculately manicured, real-life Noddyland
Imagines self as: Alice Cooper or Samuel L Jackson, making the greens a cool, rockin' place
Actually resembles: Bob Hope or some fusty old git, doddering about, blabbering about stock options and retirement plans and the awful state of the nation, goddammit
Also likes: Watching pro tournaments on telly, in which similar-looking men in similar-looking branded gear stroll around similar-looking courses doing similar-looking things, seemingly forever and ever and ever
Linguistic quirk: Refers to his heroes only by first name or daft nickname: Rory, Padraig, Tiger, G-Mac etc.
Frequently used terms: Handicap, swing, putting, bogey, eagle, The Open, The Masters, angle of approach, back nine, bunker, we'll have one for the road
Don't: Refer to golf as "a good walk spoiled"
Secret fear: That someday soon "the feminists" will insist on him sharing the fairways with women
Likely quote: "I made par by using a five-iron to birdie the fifteenth"
Unlikely quote: "Let's skip the fore-play"