After a particularly horrific round of golf a couple of years ago, three friends (Greg, Rich, and Dean) stood by the 18th green in silence, each nursing the emotional scars of triple bogeys, shanked chips, and a collective 97 putts.

Spirits were low, so to the 19th hole we traipsed, eager to forget what had just happened on the course. Behind the bar, was a dusty bottle of kümmel - forgotten yet waiting to be drunk. And drink we did…

Half a bottle later, things began to make sense—well, kind of. What started as a consolation drink quickly turned into inspiration. If bad golf was inevitable, at least the post-round drink could be legendary.

And so, Birdie Kümmel was born—part therapy, part tradition, all spirit. A tribute to terrible golf and even better mates. If the golf can’t be good, the drink certainly can be.