The aftermath of the U.S. Open may be all rosy sweet, what with Rory McIlroy’s sensational victory, but don’t get too caught up. Apart from being the sport of choice for scheming politicians and fat-cat businessmen, golf is quite frankly a waste of space. It devours the public commons, swallows up water — the preponderance of golf courses in arid places like the Arabian peninsula borders on the obscene — and indulges middle-class ennui the world over. Stray golf balls take 1,000 years to decompose. And for what? A sport that, more than most, reinforces tiresome social hierarchies through its rarefied traditions and myriad country clubs. A sport in which the only person getting any exercise is the guy who has to carry your clubs for you.