Father's Day, Sorted: 6 Golf Gifts Dad Won't Re-Gift

It's Dad's turn to watch the baby. Fine. Strap the kid in, strap the clubs to the stroller, and go play 18. This thing clamps onto the back of most strollers and holds a full set of clubs plus a sleeve of balls, which means “watching the baby” and “playing golf” are suddenly the exact same activity. Your typical stroller becomes a push cart. At $46 it costs less than one afternoon with a babysitter, and the kid naps somewhere around the back nine anyway.

This is the splurge pick. The Blue Tees Player+ is a GPS and a Bluetooth speaker in one magnetic puck that locks onto the cart frame. It knows every course, calls out your distance to the pin so Dad can stop squinting at his phone, and the sound is legitimately good, loud enough to hear from the fairway. IPX7 waterproof, full 18 on a charge. It turns the cart into a command center. If you're going to splurge on one thing here, make it this.

If Dad already has a rangefinder and just wants the tunes, skip the GPS and get him this. The Prism is $75, magnetic, waterproof, and pushes 40 watts of deep bass, which is a polite way of saying the entire back nine is going to know what your foursome is listening to. The battery runs 30 hours, so it carries the round and the patio afterward. It's less than half the price of the Blue Tees, and the only thing you give up is the GPS.

Nobody asks for a towel. Then they use one with a magnet built into the corner and never go back. This one sticks to the cart bar so it stops hitting the dirt every three holes, and the waffle-weave microfiber scrubs the grooves clean instead of just smearing mud around. It's an unglamorous gift, and it's also the kind of thing Dad would never buy himself. At $30, it ends up on the cart every round for years.

For $13, this is the personal one. Put the kids' faces on it, the dog, your own inside joke, whatever you want. It clips magnetically to his hat, so every time Dad marks a birdie putt he's looking at the family back home. Inexpensive, personal, and easy to like. Order it early so the photo prints in time.

Somewhere in Dad's desk drawer is a golf ball that means something. The hole-in-one. The ball from the bucket-list course he finally played. Right now it's rolling around next to old scorecards and broken tees. This is a clean acrylic cube on a wood base that puts it on display where it belongs, preferably on the office desk where everyone has to hear the story again. It's $12 to turn a junk-drawer ball into a trophy.