Frankly I could care less about golf. Especially watching golf on TV.
Except, of course, for the majors. Which I watch because I’m a sports fan. And because I need to keep this blog breathing until football practice starts in August. (Which, itself, is really just treading water until the holiest day of the annum — October 15.)
So I had the U.S. Open on this Monday morning. Watched while I surfed the dub dub dub. Watched while on the elliptical machine in that part of the basement we like to call the KapLerman Health Club. Watched while eating some lox and cream cheese for lunch.
Some observations from a guy who hasn’t swung a golf club in, oh, forty years. Unless Putt Putt counts. In which case, you can halve that to a score of years. Phil, you know, Mickelson, may not know how to dress — really, dude, white pants with brown pin stripes, getouttahere — but he can make some shots. And stir the fans. Especially with his lovely spouse facing the Big C. But he sure knows how to steal defeat from the jaws of victory in the U.S. Open. It was his to win today. Bogeys were not his friends. Not that they are for any golfer.
So whatisname Glover is the champ. Good game, guy. He was steely and prudent and deserving.
All of which pisses off the Gods o’ Golf who would have loved Phil to prevail, would have accepted David Duval as a suitably noteworthy winner, but really wanted . . . oh, you know who. The guy who always wears red and black in the final round. Yo, Nike, it’s time to change up the color scheme, yahear?
Did NBC want Tiger in the hunt? You tell me. When its portion of TV coverage began at 11:30, Bob Costas breathlessly teased us with narrated footage of . . . a Tiger missed putt. Costas, didn’t you used to matter? What a crock. The Greatest Athlete in the History of Civilization was not in contention at the time. (Actually he was never in contention despite the numbing adoration by NBC’s announcing crew. “If Tiger can hole his tee shot on this par 5, he’ll pull within six strokes with four holes to play, and it’ll be game on.”) Not a problem he was the lead story anyway.
I did it too, just following protocol.
This superstar adulation is killing sports. Especially golf. Take my buddy David. Please. (Rim Shot.) He’s an avid golfer. Former Falls City Junior Champion. Follows the sport. Uh, at least he used to. Now, if Tiger’s not playing, not in contention, David, like way too many others, would rather mow the lawn.
Whatever happened to, you know, the love of the Game? These days, if it ain’t Kobe, it’s kaka. And I don’t mean Kaka, the Brazilian who is the next great soccer star. I mean kaka, like puh puh kaka.
– Seedy K