Shane "Svelte" Mooney

Shane Mooney is a left-handed menace who’s somehow turned a banana slice into an actual golf strategy. He’ll aim 40 yards left, carve it back, and walk off like he planned it all along. It’s maddening, because he’s just good enough to make it work, and just reckless enough to make you think he has no idea what he’s doing. Watching Mooney play is like seeing a drunk guy juggle chainsaws — dangerous, confusing, but damned impressive when it lands.

Off the tee, the slice is his trademark. Around the greens, he’ll sneak in pars like he’s stealing from the course itself. His scores in the mid-80s aren’t miracles — they’re the product of a guy who’s found a way to weaponize a flaw and ride it all the way through 18 holes.

Off the course, though? Pure disaster. He once totaled a Camry with a dog bone sticker on a date and thought a Volvo was the comeback move — it wasn’t. At 5’ nothing, swallowed up by hand-me-down-looking clothes, he’s basically a walking optical illusion. And who could forget last year’s near-kidney donation to a dive bar witch who looked like she was summoned, not born? Weed, chaos, questionable choices, and oddly effective golf — that’s Shane Mooney. A slice-slinging, life-wrecking legend who somehow makes it all work.