Three's Not a Crowd: The Two Best 3-Man Games in Golf

You know the text. It lands at 6:45 the night before, right when the tee time is set and the trash talk is warmed up: "Can't make it tomorrow, man. Kid's got a thing." Or it's July, half the regulars are at the lake, and what's left of your foursome is three guys standing in the parking lot acting like the day is ruined.

It isn't. It might be better.

Golf's most famous betting games are built for four, so most groups treat a threesome like a rain delay — play for a sleeve of balls and call it practice. That's a waste of a perfectly good grudge. There are two games in SuperWolf built for exactly three players, and both of them produce more action per hole than most foursomes see all day.

Crossfire: three matches, no hiding

Crossfire is the simple, vicious idea that a threesome isn't one bet — it's three. You against each of the other two, head-to-head, all at once. One setup builds all three matches: pick a format, pick a stake, done. Nobody enters the same bet three times, and nobody gets to coast in the middle of a team.

That's the part people underestimate: there is no partner to carry you. Beat both guys and you collect twice. Play the middle and you break even. Get caught in the crossfire — lose both — and you're reaching for your wallet twice on the same green.

My recipe, and I'll defend it on any tee box: Crossfire with a Nassau, auto-presses at dormie. Every pair is playing a front, a back, and an overall — and when somebody goes dormie, the press fires by itself. No negotiating, no "do you want to press?" while a guy stares at his shoes. The bet presses because the math says it should, and the guy who's down gets his shot at getting well.

Three simultaneous Nassaus with presses firing at different times used to be the kind of thing that needed a guy with a pencil and a drinking problem. Now the match-at-a-glance dots sit right under the scores — every match, every press, one row each. Glance down, see who's up in all three fights, hit your drive.

Tap into any matchup and the whole ledger opens up — every leg, every press, and a hole-by-hole strip showing exactly where it turned. Receipts, not recollections.

9 Point: every hole pays somebody

9 Point comes at the threesome from the other direction. Instead of three separate matches, every hole is worth nine points, split by net score: 5 for low, 3 for middle, 1 for high. Halve it where you tie. At the end — or live, hole by hole — everybody settles pairwise at a dollar rate per point.

The genius of 9 Point is that there are no dead holes. In a match, a halved hole is a shrug. In 9 Point, finishing second still beats finishing third, a two-point swing here and a four-point swing there, and eighteen holes of that adds up to real money. Nobody's ever out of it, and nobody's ever safe.

And here's the part I like best: 9 Point presses too — just not automatically. The group decides when to up the ante. Standing on 14 tee and the round needs teeth? Somebody says the magic words: "Make it five a point." Everybody nods, you bump the rate in the app, and suddenly the same nine points hit three times as hard. It's the difference between a machine pressing for you and three grown men agreeing to make each other uncomfortable. Both have their place.

And it's still a full scorecard round, so side bets stack right on top — look under the scores in that screenshot and you'll find a One/Two Downs match running underneath the 9 Point game, dots and all. Because apparently nine points a hole wasn't enough action for somebody.

So which one?

Pick by temperament:

• Crossfire if your group speaks match play — you want to look a man in the eye, beat him specifically, and let the presses pull their own trigger.
• 9 Point if you want every single hole to cost somebody something, with the group deciding — out loud, together — when it's time to raise the stakes.

Either way, the app keeps every match, press, point, and dollar straight while you play golf. Three lock screens, one truth, zero arguments at the bar.

The fourth guy's kid has a thing? Tell him he was never the fun one anyway.