Somebody in your group is always the automatic loser before the first tee shot goes in the air.
Not because he's a bad guy to play with. Because the math was rigged before anyone hit a ball. Straight-up Nassau with a 5-handicap and a 25-handicap in the same foursome isn't really a bet — it's a formality. Either the low guy carries the strokes and still wins by lunch, or the group starts fudging handicaps to make it "fair," which just means everyone's now arguing about math instead of playing golf.
Golf is full of games and bets built for one specific version of a foursome: four guys who shoot within five strokes of each other. That's not most groups. Most groups have a guy who breaks 80 twice a summer and a guy who's just proud when he breaks 100. Chicago is the rare format built for exactly that mismatch, and it's worth explaining properly because most guys have heard the name and never actually played it.
Chicago is a points-based golf betting game where every player is given a personal quota based on their handicap, then earns points for their score on each hole — a bogey is worth one point, a par two, a birdie four, an eagle eight. Whoever finishes the round furthest above their own quota wins. Because everyone is chasing their own number instead of everyone else's scorecard, a 25-handicap and a 5-handicap can play the exact same game and both have a real reason to care on the 18th hole.
It's also called 39s, Thirty-Nines, or the Chicago System — if a buddy suggests "let's play Chicago" and you nod like you know what that means, this is what he's talking about. Fellow Golfeasers, this is one of those games where Wolf and Nassau both come up short — not because they're bad games, but because they were never built to level a group this uneven. That's exactly the kind of thing that makes you the guy who's fun to have in the group — not because you shoot the lowest number, but because you know the game that fixes the problem everyone else just complains about.
Chicago strips out head-to-head competition entirely. You're not trying to beat the guy next to you hole by hole. You're trying to beat your own number — a "quota" set before the round based on your handicap — over the full 18.
The scoring isn't strokes. It's a modified Stableford system: you get points for the result of each hole, not for the raw number on your scorecard. A bogey earns you a point. A par earns two. A birdie earns four. An eagle earns eight. Anything worse than bogey earns nothing — no penalty, just zero, which matters because it means one disaster hole can't sink your whole round the way it does in stroke play.
Add up your points across 18 holes, subtract your quota, and whoever's furthest into positive territory wins. If your quota was 24 and you finish with 31 points, you're "+7." If your buddy's quota was 34 and he finishes with 38, he's only "+4" — and he loses to you, even though his raw point total was higher. That's the whole trick. The quota does the leveling before anyone even tees off.
I'm not totally sure why this hasn't caught on more with regular groups, because it solves the exact problem that ruins so many money games. My guess is it's just one extra step of setup most guys don't bother learning — which is exactly why knowing it cold makes you look like you've been running golf bets for twenty years.
The standard formula is simple: your quota is 39 minus your course handicap. A scratch player (0 handicap) chases 39 points. A 10-handicap chases 29. A 20-handicap chases 19. Once you get above a 37 handicap, the quota flattens out at a floor of 2 points — nobody's number goes below that, or the game stops being fun for the guy at the bottom.
That means you need an actual course handicap for everyone in the group before you start, not a guess pulled out of the air on the first tee. If your group's numbers are stale or somebody's never bothered to establish one, run everyone through our golf handicap calculator before you tee off — it takes about two minutes and it's the difference between a fair Chicago match and an argument on 18.
One thing worth confirming before the round: some clubs run the formula off 36 instead of 39. Same game, slightly different numbers. It doesn't matter which one your group uses as long as everyone's working off the same baseline — that's the only rule that actually matters here.
The math sounds abstract until you watch it happen hole by hole. Here's a stretch from an actual weekend match — a 15-handicap with a quota of 24, four holes in.
Notice what the double bogey on hole 3 didn't do: it didn't cost him anything beyond a zero. In match play, that hole might've cost him the whole match. In Chicago, it's just a blank square, and he's still five points into a round where he needs nineteen more over fourteen holes to clear his hurdle. That's a very different mental game than stroke play or Nassau — one bad hole doesn't spiral, because there's nothing left to lose on it once it's already a zero.
Here's the thing nobody talks about with mixed-handicap groups: most golf bets aren't actually broken by the game itself, they're broken by whoever has to give or take strokes. Give too many and the low-handicap guy resents playing at all. Give too few and the high-handicap guy is mathematically out of it by the turn. Somebody always feels like the number was rigged against them, even when it wasn't.
Chicago sidesteps the whole argument because nobody's giving anybody strokes. Everyone plays their own gross score against their own personal quota. The 5-handicap and the 25-handicap are, functionally, playing two entirely different games that happen to be scored on the same card. If you've read our piece on betting games that actually work across a big handicap range, this is the format that solves it most cleanly — better, honestly, than most of the workarounds groups invent on the fly.
It's also just a different kind of fun than Wolf or Nassau. Those games live and die on individual holes — who wins this hole, who presses, who's steaming after three. Chicago is a slow build across the whole round. You can have a rough front nine and still be very much alive on the back, which keeps guys engaged even after a string of ugly holes instead of mentally checking out and playing for pride.
From what I've noticed running this with our regular group, it changes who talks trash at the turn. It's not always the low guy anymore — it's whoever's closest to their own number, which sometimes means the 22-handicap is the one getting chirped at for being three points behind schedule while the scratch player is quietly struggling. Dave hates that. Dave loves that.
Chicago works fine as a friendly points exercise with nothing on the line, but most groups want money in it, and there are a few clean ways to do that.
The simplest: everyone puts the same flat amount into a pot before the round, and the pot goes to whoever finishes furthest above quota. No math beyond who's number one at the end.
A second option: assign a dollar value to every point above quota and pay out the differences at the end — this rewards margin, not just first place, and it keeps guys who finish second or third still playing hard on 18 instead of coasting once they know they can't win outright.
The third, and honestly the one that keeps things simplest for a casual group: winner-take-all, straight up, where whoever's furthest above their quota collects a flat amount from everyone else. If you haven't nailed down what a sane number actually is for your group, that's worth reading before you set stakes — Chicago's scoring makes it easy to accidentally set a payout that's bigger than anyone meant.
Whatever you land on, agree to it on the first tee, not the ninth green. And if the round ends with any confusion about who actually cleared their number, our piece on settling golf bets without anyone getting mad covers exactly this kind of end-of-round math dispute.
Almost every group that tries Chicago for the first time makes the same two mistakes, and both are avoidable if you know to watch for them.
Mistake one: using net scores instead of gross. Your handicap is already accounted for in your quota — that's the entire point of the format. If you also start adjusting your hole-by-hole score for strokes, you're double-dipping your handicap and the whole system breaks. Play it straight: the number you actually shot is the number that earns points.
Mistake two: forgetting somebody's handicap changed. Course handicaps move throughout a season, and it's an easy thing to forget to update before a Chicago round, especially for the guy who's had a good stretch and doesn't want to admit his number dropped. Confirm handicaps fresh before you set quotas, not off whatever number somebody remembers from three months ago.
Could be luck, but the groups that run Chicago smoothly are almost always the ones who spend the two minutes on setup — confirmed handicaps, agreed baseline (36 or 39), agreed payout method — before anyone tees off. Skip that and you're litigating the math on the 18th green instead of enjoying the finish.
Chicago scales up cleanly to teams, which is worth knowing if your group ever runs a bigger event — a member-guest, a work outing, a buddy trip round with eight or twelve guys split into foursomes.
In the team version, you add up each team member's quota to get one combined negative starting number, then everyone plays their own ball and earns points the same way. Here's the twist: if any single player on the team finishes with a negative score — meaning they never cleared their own personal hurdle — that negative number gets subtracted from the team's total instead of just dropped. A team can't just carry its best player; every player's number matters to the final total.
That one rule does a lot of quiet work. It means you can't stack a team with three strong players and one guy who's clearly there for the cart snacks — his score still counts, for better or worse. If you're organizing something bigger than your regular Saturday foursome, it's worth reading through the rest of the golf game formats library for other formats that scale the same way, including a few that pair naturally with Chicago across a multi-round event.
This is a game built around one specific idea: you make your foursome better when the game itself doesn't quietly write off half the group before the first tee shot. That's not a small thing. A round where the 25-handicap has a real reason to care on 18 is a better round for everyone in the cart, including the low-handicap guy who gets to actually sweat a little instead of coasting to an easy win.
You don't need to be the best player in the group to be the one who makes Saturday worth showing up for. Sometimes that's just knowing the right game to suggest before everyone defaults to the same tired bet nobody's actually excited about anymore.
Do you need an official handicap to play Chicago? Technically yes — the whole format is built on it. Casual groups can get away with a reasonable estimated course handicap if nobody has an official one, but the closer that number is to real, the fairer the game plays. It's worth the two minutes to nail it down before you start.
What happens if nobody beats their quota? Most groups fall back to whoever finished closest to their own number, even if everyone landed short. It still produces a clear winner without anyone needing to renegotiate the rules mid-round — just agree on the tiebreak before you start in case it comes up.
Can you play Chicago as a team game? Yes. Add each team member's individual quota together for one combined starting number, then play as individuals and add up the points. If any player finishes negative — never clearing their own hurdle — that negative total gets subtracted from the team score instead of ignored.
How is Chicago different from Quota? They're close cousins. Quota is the simpler, more common version most guys have actually played — how Quota works, and how it's built around your own number covers it directly. Chicago adds the specific 39-minus-handicap formula and the "clear the hurdle" framing, but the core mechanic — your own points target based on your own handicap — is the same idea both games are built on.
Does everyone in the group need to use the same quota baseline? Yes — if one player's quota is calculated off 39 and another's off 36, the math stops being comparable across the group. Pick one baseline before the round and make sure everyone's number comes from the same formula.
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