When 2016 is remembered by pollsters, it will not be recalled fondly, but in terms of forecasting, even they didn't get it as wrong as the man who tweeted Andrew "Beef" Johnston, telling him to get a shave and a shower because he was shaming golf.

As good as that tweeter was at alliteration (10 out of 10, in fact), when it comes to prophesy, he was absolutely no Nostradamus.

Why? Because England's Beef Johnston didn't bring shame on golf last year.

Beef made golf smile.

It's definitely a stretch to suggest that in the midst of 2016's worldwide temper tantrum, Beef stood above it all like the Dalai Lama with an 8-iron. When trying to understand his popularity, however, it would be a huge mistake to overlook the importance of his grin.

Because last year, people didn't just notice his smile or care that he was clearly having the time of his life. They also discovered his personality is infectious.

Consider a few vignettes from The Open in Scotland, the week his cult status hit the mainstream.

When his face appeared on the tented village's big screen during Friday's play at Royal Troon and a roar of "Beeeeef!" rattled the concession stalls, a voice was heard to ask: "Who is that guy?" "That," said another, "is Beef. He's a legend. He smiles and the world smiles with him."

On Sunday, when the golf was complete, the Claret Jug presented and the property apparently empty, the forecourt in front of the clubhouse was packed as 200 or 300 fans surrounded one man, who was signing autographs, bending his knees for selfies and laughing huge belly laughs with not only boys and girls, but men and women whose thrilled eyes were coming to terms with the fact that their hero seemed to be having as much fun as they were.

Watching it all, a middle-aged man with the clipped enunciation and walking stick of a house guest at Downton Abbey said, "He's rather refreshing, isn't he?"

Johnston isn't one to shy away from high-fives from fans, especially last summer at The Open, where the Englishman finished T-8. Craig Brough/Reuters

Later that night in the player's lounge, Beef and his team were having a final drink when a party of Royal & Ancient members strolled through.

The R&A is reputed to be the stuffiest club in sport. They shave their stiff upper lips and collectively furrow their brows at the sight of beards, right? Wrong.

One by one, the men in blazers shook Beef's hand, slapped him on the back and ...

And what?

The R&A men laughed. They guffawed.

They smiled.

"I know, man, that's the scary thing!"

Talking to ESPN ahead of his first start in 2017 at this week's CareerBuilder Challenge in La Quinta, California -- he's attempting to play on both the PGA Tour and European Tour this year -- Beef roared with laughter when he recalled the unexpected support he has attracted.

"I'm not kidding," he continued. "Sometimes I've been walking down the street when someone shouts my name, and I've turned round [and] it's a 75-year-old woman. And I'm thinking, what's going on here? I still can't get my head round it. Sometimes I just sit there and giggle about it. It's madness."

When he bumped into Arsenal soccer player Aaron Ramsey at The Grove (host course for last year's British Masters), it led to an invitation to the Emirates Stadium to watch, and later meet, the team he supports.

"And as I'm walking up," Beef said, "they're shouting 'Beeeef!' and I'm thinking 'This is so weird. This is the wrong way round, man.'"

He credits his happy-go-lucky nature and ability to brush away the barbs of social media to the culture at North Middlesex Golf Club.

"Growing up around the members and my friends there, it's nonstop man. There's no line that won't be crossed, but no one means it. It's just a laugh. So if someone says something on Twitter, I just start giggling."

The critics remain, but so does his perspective. Two weeks ago, he was interviewed on BBC radio.

"Afterwards a man tweeted, saying I might want to set a better example by pronouncing my T's better. I ... sat there laughing. I wrote back saying, 'Sorry you didn't understand me. I hope you understand me better next time.'"

Being a baby brother is another key to his character. Sibling James, 10 years older, is a session musician and producer (whose new studio is named, in honor of family tradition, The Cowshed). After playing a gig in London, James drove through the night to see the final round at Royal Troon, where he found himself bewildered as Beef finished tied for eighth at The Open.

The Johnston brothers have always been close. After the 2011 Challenge Tour Grand Final, James, right, embraced Andrew, left, to celebrate his first graduation to the European Tour. Matthew Cooper/For ESPN.com

"It's so weird," James said. "I used to walk courses when no one followed Andrew. Now the little kid I used to sit on and tickle until he couldn't take it anymore is being cheered by crowds so deep I can't even see him."

"We've always been close," Beef said of his brother. "We used to play a lot of football [soccer]. I'd be in goal aged 7, and he was like 17, just smashing balls at me. Hammering them."

Beef tells this story through snorts of laughter. If he finds it hysterically funny that his brother walloped him with a soccer ball, irate tweeters haven't got a hope of unsettling him. Nowadays, the brothers share the same laid-back approach to life, typified by the Beef and Cowshed Christmas.

"My mum went to my sister's in Florida, so we just chilled out, sat on the sofa all Christmas Day, cracking up watching 'Home Alone.'"

Would Beef ever hit the stage, as James does every week on drums?

"No way. Comfort zones, man. That's his, and mine is definitely on the golf course," Beef said.

Since recharging his batteries over the winter break, Beef's been in Portugal, working on fitness and honing the game. If last year was hectic, this year he wants more order, albeit whilst balancing schedules on both sides of the Atlantic.

In the short term, that means he'll be in the States. After the CareerBuilder Challenge, he is set to play the Farmers Insurance Open, the Waste Management Phoenix Open and the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, and then he hopes to continue with the Honda Classic and the Valspar Championship.

First response to that itinerary is simple: Beef on the raucous 16th at TPC Scottsdale.

More laughter.

Can you imagine the noise when Andrew "Beef" Johnston walks into the cauldron that is the par-3 16th hole at the Waste Management Phoenix Open? Joe Camporeale-USA TODAY Sports

"I know man," he said. "I don't know if I'm gonna be able to hit the ball. I can't wait. It's chaos, right? It's gonna be crazy."

That early run is full of stops, which remind him of childhood Sundays. "I'd sit down with my dad, have some dinner and the golf would be on the TV from America," Beef said.

His father, Noel, passed away in 2006, but golf remained a Sunday constant. When Beef hits Torrey Pines, one memory will resonate.

"One-hundred-ten percent," he said. "Tiger in 2008: that putt on 18 to get in the playoff [at the U.S. Open]. I'll be replaying that putt in practice."

Of all the insanity last year, Beef's popularity in the U.S. was perhaps the biggest surprise to him.

"The weekend of the [2016] U.S. Open was when it got really mental. Because of the weather delay, I played two rounds on Saturday, and it just built and built. I was having to say sorry to my playing partners sometimes," Beef explained.

"But if I thought that was crazy, the PGA Championship was another level. So many people. I was like 50th or something on Sunday, nothing really, and the fairways were so rammed, we had to have security for our group."

"Guys were shouting so many funny things" he added. "One guy kept telling me to stay hydrated and holding out a beer. Another geezer shouted out, 'Beef, my girlfriend loves you more than me!' And another shouted for me to do the "truffle shuffle." I was just laughing nonstop."

As strong as the fan relationship is, Beef is seeking more control.

"I've got to remember this is work, and I need to play good golf, but if I do that, everyone is buzzing, so it'll be all good," he said. "I learned a lesson at the PGA: Get practice in, really concentrate and then after rounds, when I'm in no rush, spend time with the fans. You don't want to be signing stuff and taking photos in a rush. I want to have the time to have a word, take a bit of care, do it right."

Another change in 2017 will be a less frenetic schedule. The opportunities came thick and fast last year as he rode the wave on and off the course.

"I played too much, but it was hard to say no," he said. "Before the Open, I was back and across [the Atlantic] a lot, but I had to do it, so I didn't have any regrets. And getting in the Web.com Finals, that all happened pretty much the week before it happened. It was tiring, but sometimes you've just got to go for it."

He won't debut on the European Tour until the BMW PGA Championship in May. In the meantime, he's excited about reacquainting himself with those enthusiastic fans.

"I think maybe Americans aren't so fussed about what people think," Beef said. "Like, if they're on dance cam at the basketball [game], they'll just get up and dance, even if they can't dance. Know what I mean? They just want a good time. They just go for it."

A Miami Heat fan, Beef will be watching plenty of basketball in the next few weeks.

"Love watching Golden State and Steph Curry too, though," he said. "He's just ridiculous. It's the consistency. And James Harden. Beard envy. That's all I'm saying. Check it out. Google him. It's superb."

Another chuckle, and you wonder if anything makes this man angry.

"Oh yeah, of course. I can get really wound up on the golf course," Beef said. "What else makes me angry? People who walk looking down at their phones and just stop. That annoys me. But when people write stuff and they don't know you, that makes me laugh, man. Just makes me giggle."

And there's absolutely no shame in that.