Talking Golf Club is hurt that you refuse to believe he is real, and sulks in your golf bag muttering "Trade down and start false drug rumors about Ryan Mallett to get him in the second." Your relationship deteriorates, and you find him years later rusting in your garage next to a suspiciously empty bottle of scotch you'd been looking for the night before.
Together you watch as Ryan Mallett passes brilliantly in the NFC Championship game for the Cincinnati Bengals. You tell him how sorry you were for not listening. He accepts your apology, and a moment of understanding passes between the two of you as the warmth of the TV glows in the living room.
The next week, you throw him into the water hazard on the eighth hole, because seriously, stop talking, creepy bloody-mouthed golf club.