I’ve always related to Lennon Stella’s song “Golf On TV,” where the lead singer proclaims that she doesn’t understand why people watch the sport from the comfort of their couch. If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always gone a step further than the singer-songwriter as I would proudly state that I never quite comprehended why people would watch golf in general. I’m happy to say that Apple TV+‘s new series, Stick, is starting to move the needle.
The comedy stars Owen Wilson as Pryce Cahill, a washed-up former pro golfer now working at a sporting goods store and recovering financially and emotionally from his recent and amicable divorce from Amber-Lynn (Judy Greer). While visiting a golf range one day, Pryce happens upon a teenager, Santi (Peter Dager), hitting with stunning precision and force. Quickly, Pryce concocts a plan to take Santi pro, even promising Santi’s mom Elena (Mariana Treviño) a check for $100,000 and a split of Santi’s prize money if they work together to elevate the teen into the world of professional golf. Also along for the ride is Pryce’s former caddy, Mitts (Marc Maron), who is all too unhappy to offer up his RV as the makeshift home for the gang as they travel from invitationals to competitions and so on.
It will come as a shock to no one that the show is about way more than golf, as most sports comedies are. Often I find that the activity itself is no more than a backdrop for situational comedy to unfold — look at Netflix’s Running Point, for instance, where basketball is rarely played. In Stick, however, golf is so integral to the identity of the show that it’s hard to disconnect the comedy from the setting,
Even when the show stumbles and struggles to land a joke, it follows its own advice by adhering to “Grossweiner’s Law” — also the title of the show’s second episode — a principle implemented by Pryce to teach Santi about the power of short-term memory when you’re out on the green. Essentially, don’t let a mistake on the last hole hinder you on the next one. It’s evocative of Ted Lasso‘s “be a goldfish” mentality but it doesn’t feel cheap or derivative as one might expect.
Speaking of Ted Lasso, given its shared streaming service and genre, it’s inevitable that Stick will get comparisons to its Jason Sudeikis and Bill Lawrence predecessor. It’s not an entirely fair correlation, though, as the newcomer’s primary aim is to tell a found-family story within the golf world, not to find sports success as an underfunded underdog. To that end, Stick meets and exceeds its goals ten-fold; I can’t remember the last time I watched a show and cared this much about a ragtag group that becomes a family.
Truthfully, that only is the case because of the excellent writing when when it comes to establishing and then building upon the dynamics between the characters. It’s commonplace that when a show puts a lot of emphasis on one relationship — in this case, Pryce and Santi — the others suffer for it. In the case of this thoroughly enjoyable series, though, it’s completely the opposite. In fact, one of the show’s best pairs is Elena and Mitts, who have absolutely no reason to interact other than being in the general vicinity of each other throughout the show, and yet, creator and showrunner Jason Keller manages to make it a wholly understandable and hilarious relationship.
Similarly, Mitts and Zero (Lilli Kay), the”she/they” caddy the group picks up along the way — yes, the show does play up the pronouns bit but in a surprisingly wholesome and respectful manner — have a rapport that kept me laughing from the first moment to the last. You may initially enter thinking, “What could this middle aged man and Gen Z contrarion have in common?” but you will walk away wishing that each episode had more of their cynical meetups.
It’s not just these relationships that thrive, though. Every single dynamic is written as though it is the one that fans are tuning in for. It’s an exercise in great writing that each viewer can walk away saying a different dynamic is their favorite because there is not one clear and present winner — and that’s where Stick hits an ace. And for those golf novices out there, an ace is a fancy term for a hole-in-one. You too, like me, will quickly learn all the links lingo — and start googling the price of golf clubs — while watching this show, just wait.
Between shows like The Four Seasons and Abott Elementary, we’re in a media landscape where “chicken noodle soup” shows are needed now more than ever, and that is exactly what this show is. It’s rare that a true-blue family show comes around and impresses me — I’m of the mind that if you’re trying to please everyone, it usually ends up pleasing no one — but that is thankfully not the case here. I’m proud to say that Stick is as funny as it is wholesome, and as wholesome as it is endearing. This silly golf comedy is winner in every sense and a show you might just restart the moment the final credits roll.
Even if you are like me — green on the (golf) green — there is a high probability that you will find this show delightful, hilarious, and shockingly relatable. One can only hope Apple TV+ gives this gem of a series the second season it deserves and we get to see this group play another round.
The first two episodes of Stick premiere on Apple TV+ June 4. New episodes drop on Wednesdays.