Huff’s Stuff AZGA Golf Blog – Arizona Golf Authority
If you’re looking for the winner of this week’s British Open at Royal St. George’s, don’t pick Rory McIlroy, the heavy favorite with the bookies.
First of all, Royal St. George’s is way too quirky for the favorite to prevail. Known for its bizarre bounces and hard-pan fairways and greens, who knows where the ball will end up. And then you add in the weather. . . .
As Ahwatukee’s Robert Garrigus put it recently: “If the wind blows, I might hit a few 500-yard drives and 250-yard wedges, and if the wind is coming from the other direction, a couple of drives and wedges maybe half that far.’’ He wasn’t kidding although he was laughing when he said it.
Here’s another reason that McIlroy won’t win: Of the past 11 major championships there have been 11 different winners. That, of course, is because Tiger Woods hasn’t won in the past 12 majors, a streak that will go to 13 due to his absence in Sandwich, England.
McIlroy does fit the 20-something trend, meaning the last four majors have been won by guys in their 20s, the Northern Irish superstar being 22. And even though nobody’s swing looks better, McIlroy hasn’t competed since he won the U.S. Open at Congressional Country Club in record fashion, and that rust will rear its head on a salty course like Royal St. George’s, where “the Open Championship’’ has been contested 14 times.
Luke Donald and Lee Westwood would seem to be the prime favorites, and not just because they are No. 1 and No. 2 in the world, respectively. But both are well into their 30s, Donald being the younger at 33, so they defy the trend, and more to the point, neither has proved to be a closer on the game’s biggest stages.
Martin Kaymer, the big German from Paradise Valley, is No. 3 and fading fast chiefly because he made a swing change that’s not there yet. Spain’s Sergio Garcia has had some success in the British, but he suffers from the same malady as Donald and Westwood, even though Garcia is the fifth most-popular pick by the bookies, just ahead of America’s hope, Steve Stricker.
But Stricker won last week, so he’s not going to be the guy, and Northern Ireland’s Graeme McDowell, also high on the bookies list, hasn’t sniffed it since the 2010 U.S. Open, and even more disturbing, has blown several leads in recent times.
Which brings us to the “real’’ favorite this week, Jason Day. The young Australian is 23 and has runner-up finishes in both the Masters and U.S. Open, where he kind of came out of the blue to secure second while not really threatening Charles Schwartzel at the Masters or McIlroy at the U.S. Open. Day fits the criterion – he’s never won a major and he’s in his 20s, which is good enough with us.
Still, chances are great that it’s somebody further down the form chart, like a Nick Watney, Dustin Johnson or Hunter Mahan, who all fit the first major/in their 20s criterion. Either that, or maybe this could get really crazy (again), like when long shot Ben Curtis won in 2003, the last time they played the Open at Royal St. Georges.
If that’s the case, we like Garrigus, a guy playing in his first British with a driver that is capable of traveling 500 yards.
“I’ll just bomb it and go find it,’’ Garrigus said of his strategy, which might work as well as any when it comes to Royal St. George’s.
Huff’s Stuff AZGA Golf Blog – Arizona Golf Authority
Even though there will be 11 residents playing in this week’s 111th edition of the U.S. Open, the guy from Arizona who might know famed Congressional Country Club the best is not in the 156-man field.
That’s because Tom Weiskopf, who captured the 1995 U.S. Senior Open at Congressional, builds golf courses these days rather winning scores. But in every way, the Scottsdale architect is the perfect source to handicap this national championship.
“It’s a shot-maker’s golf course, where you have to maneuver around corners and really move the ball in order to score,’’ reported Weiskopf of the 7,574-yard, par-70 layout that is essentially the work of the late Robert Trent Jones and his son, Rees Jones, who has rearranged it twice in the last five years while rebuilding every green.
“Congressional is such a neat course, a long hitter’s course, with a lot of elevated tees that favors the high-ball hitter. ’’
Whether or not those specs fit any of Arizona’s finest, remains to be seen. That list from the land of tall cacti includes Scottsdale’s Aaron Baddeley, Paul Casey, Martin Laird, Ryan Moore, Geoff Ogilvy, Chez Reavie, Kevin Streelman, Kirk Triplett and Bubba Watson; Robert Garrigus of Ahwatukee; and Arizona State senior/amateur Scott Pinckney of Tempe
When Weiskopf won at Congressional, the golf course ended exactly like it will this week, with a rugged, 523-yard, par 4 that plays down the hill and slopes towards the water. By comparison, when Ernie Els captured the U.S. Open in 1997 at Congressional, the course ended on a par 3, which Rees Jones made the 10th hole, a move that is certain to make Congressional more difficult as players come down the stretch.
But as Weiskopf pointed out, the course can take its toll thanks to eight par 4s that play between 466 and 523 yards, as well as the par-5 ninth hole that rambles on for 636 yards. Ironically, the ninth hole isn’t the most demanding; that would be the 579-yard 16th that plays straight up the hill.
He also noted that his winning score at Congressional of 5-under par is a testament to the course’s toughness. By comparison, Els had a 4-under total.
“There really isn’t any let-up at Congressional, in that you’ve got to be focused on every hole,’’ said Weiskopf, who posted three consecutive rounds of 69 there and then polished his four-shot victory over Jack Nicklaus with a 68 to join Gary Player as the only players in Senior Open history to shoot all four rounds in the 60s.
“That’s really what I remember most about what was one of my biggest moments in golf: I was so focused. About the only other thing I remember is I was in one of those really great moods, and those didn’t come along often enough.”
“The only other time I probably played as well, at least when it came to hitting fairways and greens and really controlling my ball and my patience, was a couple of those runner-up finishes at Augusta (National).’’
Ah, yes, Weiskopf, who has mellowed considerably since turning 68, won 16 times on the PGA Tour and five times on the Champions. His biggest thrill came in 1973 when he captured the British Open at Troon. But he is probably best known for his dubious distinction of just missing the green jacket a record four times, with two of those runner-up finishes being to Nicklaus. He also was a runner-up in the 1976 U.S. Open to Jerry Pate at the Atlanta Athletic Club.
Weiskopf, who like Nicklaus grew up in Ohio and was an All-American for the Buckeyes, said beating Nicklaus in the U.S. Senior Open was special. But he also didn’t attach a lot of significance to the win affecting their rivalry.
“I think the thing I remember most about the Senior Open at Congressional is that I kind of knew I was going to win it right from the get-go. I was playing good,’’ said Weiskopf, who splits his time these days between Arizona and Bozeman, Montana. “Plus, I had practiced prior to the tournament, and I NEVER practiced for most of my senior career.
“I guess I remember Jack finished second, but I don’t remember by how many strokes. Considering it was Jack that I beat, heck that was good enough because it didn’t happen very often.’’
So who is Weiskopf’s pick to win the national championship at Congressional this week?
“Oh, probably somebody like an Ernie Els,’’ he said of the guy who edged Colin Montgomerie by a stroke in ’97 after Scottsdale’s Tom Lehman had self-destructed on the 71st hole with a 7-iron into the water.
“A player who hits it long and high and can really work the ball around the corners. That’s your winner.’’
In other words, a player who has the skills that Tom Weiskopf once did.
He was the part of me that few readers ever saw, but he influenced my columns about golf more than I realized. Best of all, he loved everything I wrote, unconditionally.
He was my biggest fan, and I was his. For 10 fun-filled years, we were a happy-go-lucky team. I would write the columns, fuss over them, and rewrite them. All the while, Sampson, my big, black Lab, lay faithfully under my desk, nuzzling my feet as I talked to myself. I’m sure my socks didn’t always smell that great, and sometimes the hours would drag on endlessly, but he never seemed to mind.
Complaining wasn’t part of Sampson’s game. In fact, he was perhaps the most gracious, trusting, contented, loyal dog a man could ever know, his tail constantly wagging or pounding the floor. We used to joke that we should have named him “Thumper’’ because that tail just never stopped.
But last week, cancer took “My Boy,’’ and I haven’t been able to write a word about golf since. It wasn’t like we were unprepared; he was diagnosed with the illness back in March.
I suppose such stinging sadness isn’t that unexpected, when you consider Sampson’s most amazing attribute was that he could make me happy, instantly – and I’m not exactly an easy guy to make happy.
“What’s going on, Bill?
But all he had to do was cock his head off to the side, as if to say, “What’s going on, Bill?’’ Then he would simply explode with excitement after deciphering our code of “walk’’ or “ball’’ or “park.’’ By the time he would finally quit bucking like a bronco and barking like a lunatic (Sampson was louder than Lassie!) my mind was miles away from what had consumed me for most of the day.
He could do that – get me out of a funk quickly — and he did it often. That’s why I’d always miss “Sampy’’ almost as much as he missed me when I’d go off on week-long trips to, say, the Masters or a U.S. Open or a golf event of some kind. He hated it when I was gone even though we’d talk by phone – my kids would put the receiver up to Sampson’s ear, and he’d jump back and stare at it in disbelief. My homecoming was always the best of times for both of us.
Change of Heart
It was a relationship that almost didn’t happen. I remember that in the late ’90s, I had decided I’d had enough dogs for a lifetime. We had owned three great ones – Kota, Xena and Annie – and in the span of a year, two had died of illness and the other was stolen from our backyard. So when my son called one day from a farm in Chandler, telling me he had found “the most precious Lab puppy in the world,’’ I told him to forget it.
“You’ve got to come see this pup. He looks just like ‘Bone’ — big head, beautiful eyes, jet-black fur,’’ my son pleaded, comparing the pup to my cousin’s one-of-a-kind hunting dog in Iowa named Bone.
I told him, “No, absolutely, not.” But by the second (or third?) call, I agreed to come check out the pup. As you probably guessed, it took about five seconds for me to say, “Sure.’’ After much debate, we named him Sampson Bonaparte II in honor of Bone, and that was the beginning of our story.
“Ball”
Not that Sampson was the perfect pup; he chewed up his share of garden hoses and plants/flowers. But through the years, as the kids set out on their own, Sampson and I grew closer and closer until we were absolutely each other’s best friend. “Ball’’ was our favorite game – especially the version we played in the pool — and most every day ended with “walk.’’
Naturally, there was nothing Sampson and I liked better than taking our annual trip to Whitefish, Montana, where we have a second home. It’s true that I enjoy playing golf at Whitefish Lake Golf Club more than any place on Earth. Sampson’s thing was the 1,200-mile journey in the SUV through Arizona, Utah, Idaho and, finally, Big Sky Country. However, the biggest deal about Whitefish was — hands down! – Sampson and I were “gone’’ together.
That unbreakable bond we built over those years is why it came as such a crushing blow when Sampson was diagnosed three months ago with hemangiosarcoma, a rapidly growing cancer that involves the cells that line blood vessels. His illness came out of nowhere. One day he simply didn’t bark like a lunatic or buck like a bronco at dinnertime. Instead, he rested that big head on my leg and refused to eat, his sad eyes telling me that something was really, really wrong.
As it turned out, my veterinarian determined that Sampson, who had always been very healthy and fit, had a tumor on his spleen. The good news was the tumor could be removed. The bad news came shortly after taking out the spleen — the tumor was malignant.
Even though one-third of those tumors are benign, Sampson wasn’t that lucky. What I didn’t know was that one in every three dogs develops some form of cancer, and more than half of those dogs die. Worse: The cancer rate is higher in Labradors.
Suddenly, I couldn’t write or do much of anything as I tried to figure out our options. Even though my vet advised me against chemotherapy for Sampson – “most dogs don’t live past two months’’ — he gave me the card of an oncologist at Arizona Veterinary Specialists in Gilbert.
Leap of Faith
I’ll admit, initially I wasn’t going to put Sampson through it. Chemo is hard enough on people, so I figured it would be too much for a dog. But Dr. Lynn Beaver, who has lots of love for her patients, convinced me otherwise. She cited facts, like many dogs with Sampson’s type of cancer can live an additional five to seven months or even longer IF you catch it early enough.
It was a huge leap of faith for me, not wanting to make things worse for Sampson. I was just hoping that I could get him another six months or so.
The risky part was that Sampson’s spleen wasn’t the only organ the cancer had touched; the liver also was involved. The gamble was that the little nodule of cancer on the liver that also had been cut out during surgery wouldn’t come back to haunt us. It was a tough call, but since we’d already lost once on Sampson’s health, we were crossing our fingers that maybe we’d get lucky this time around.
So in mid-March, Sampson and I began the chemo, five sessions spaced three weeks apart and lasting into June. Fortunately, Sampson was a whole lot braver than his “Dad.’’ Each session lasted about two hours, with Sampson getting stuck with needle after needle and me pacing nervously in the parking lot.
Dog lovers understand this slightly altered yet well-known quotation: “To err is human, to forgive canine.’’ We also know that without a doubt, dogs are “man’s best friend.’’ And most of us have seen the movie or read the book “Marley and Me’’ and cried like babies, because if you are a dog lover, there is no in between.
All of these crazy thoughts and more were swirling in my head when I was trying to make the right choice for Sampson. So what happened next — right in the middle of all this life-changing turmoil – just might have been the biggest shocker of all.
Knowing that our time together was growing short, and wanting to get everything I could out of each day, I quit drinking. That’s right, a guy who consumed a couple of glasses of wine almost on a daily basis gave it up to be with his dog as we traveled down this unknown road together.
The results, my results, were astonishing. Instead of one walk to the park every day, we began to take two, then three, and then four walks daily. We even expanded our routes throughout Tempe to include the ASU Research Park. Sampson adored the park’s lake-laden landscape and would signal our arrival every time — even when his booming bark began to fade from the treatments.
Sampson & China
For 72 straight days, we walked and talked about life – Sampson, me and my other dog, China, an American Bulldog-mix who was Sampson’s lifelong companion. And almost every day we discovered something new, as we stopped to smell the roses – Sampson and China being more into the smell part while I did most of the discovering.
Just as hard to believe, we got up earlier and earlier, until this past month we had been rising at the crack of dawn. Believe it or not, the sun comes up in Arizona at 5 a.m. sharp. I just never knew it, as my old routine didn’t really get going until 8 a.m. or later.
Food for Thought
Meanwhile, Sampson endured the chemo like a champion. Even though he became badly nauseated after each of the first three sessions (at least for a day or two), he always bounced back. What was unexpected was he quit eating meat in any form, replacing that one-time staple of his diet with carrots, apples, raspberry scones and a nightly ice cream sandwich. As Dr. Beaver put it: “Let him eat whatever he wants,’’ and that’s exactly what we did.
At the same time, I constantly wrestled with the dilemma of whether or not Sampson physically could handle another chemo session, and was this awful stuff we were putting in his body really making a difference? I also was bothered by his on-and-off cough, which Sampson usually dismissed with a wag of his tail.
But we kept moving forward, trying to be as brave as possible because I wanted so much for Sampson to rally so we could go to Montana for one last summer. And the truth was, he still looked great after three sessions. Even though his whiskers were turning gray, his body seemed to be holding up, and he still pranced – his favorite form of walking – all the way to the park and back, even on his bad days.
Then last Thursday something happened in the middle of the night. I awoke to find him panting, which was not a good sign. When I let him outside, he immediately lay on the grass and wouldn’t come back into the house. When I finally coaxed him inside, he bee-lined for the bathroom, where he started drinking from the “dog pond’’ rather than his bowl filled with water. That’s really strange, I thought.
The following morning, he was still in the bathroom, which was very odd for a dog that often slept in my bed, or at least at the foot of my bed. It was if he was trying to get away or hide from me. One look into his eyes as I rounded the corner sent me into a panic.
Fortunately, Sampson remained calm as his master was falling apart. Even though the big guy could hardly walk to the car for the trip to the vet, and even though we had to use a gurney to transport him from the car into the clinic, Sampson never lost his cool. I wish I could have said the same, just for his sake.
According to Dr. Beaver, more tumors had grown on Sampson’s liver, and he was bleeding internally. There was a chance the bleeding would stop, she told me, “but it will come back.’’
That’s when I had to make the most difficult decision of my life, and truthfully, it hurt like hell. But it must have been the right one, because shortly before he departed this world, Sampson turned to me and gave me two sloppy kisses right on the mug. And then he very gently put his head between his paws like the dignified companion he’d always been and left me here alone, trying to figure it all out.
“Sampy”
I’m still trying. I guess if we had to do it all over again, we would still fight the fight with everything we could muster. Yes, the chemo didn’t work, but the experience brought us even closer, and considering that inseparable connection that already existed, that was truly remarkable.
To be honest, I’m not sure about anything else just yet. But given the circumstances, I’ll probably always look back on our great adventure with the Big C as more of life-changing experience for me than anything I was able to do for Sampson.
That’s why I decided to write this tribute to my best friend, “My Boy’ who used to snuggle at my feet while I kept writing about golf. I know Sampy would have enjoyed it, simply because he loved everything I wrote. Unconditionally.
For the past 10 years, the PGA Tour has been billing its players under this well-known and super-positive spin: “These guys are good!’’
While that’s true, it’s also apparent that, “These guys are bad, too.” Or why is it that for the past two weeks one of the main storylines at the Wells Fargo Championship and The Players Championship has been whether or not Rory Sabbatini is going to be suspended for his bad behavior earlier this year?
Seriously, is it really a surprise that the “Mini Volcano,’’ as Sabbatini is nicknamed – a tribute to “the Volcano,’’ the moniker worn proudly by former Tour delinquent Steve Pate – has erupted again? Reportedly, Sabbatini laid a profanity-laced tirade on a volunteer at the Northern Trust in LA and then followed it up with an equally four-letter worded tirade aimed at fellow pro Sean O’Hair at the Zurich Classic.
Apparently the Tour hasn’t quite figured out what Sabbatini’s punishment should be as he’s playing (and among the leaders) this week at The Players. It does make for some good TV, as the announcers go back in forth in their speculation on what the “double secret probation’’ for Sabbatini will be.
Personally, the way I see it, being a bad boy isn’t all bad. With apologies to Donna Summer, I’ve even assembled the Tour’s All-Bad Boy team and Sabbatini just barely made this, arguably, undesirable unit.
Naturally, the No. 1 spot goes to John Daly, who would easily qualify as the captain and automatic entry into the Bad Boy Hall of Fame. After going through four wives, a runaway train-load of alcohol, and more WDs and DQs than any other guy whose ever teed it up, Daly is the poster boy for the slogan, “These guys are bad, too.’’
Actually, I was a little worried about Daly protecting his sordid reputation when he let the air out of his body with the Lap-Band (laparoscopic gastric surgery). But he climbed right back to the top of this headline-seeking heap when he restored sexism all the way back to the Dark Ages.
During an interview on 790 The Zone in Atlanta not long ago, Daly implied that the reason Tiger Woods cheated on his wife with “127 or 128 women” was because Woods wasn’t “getting it anymore.’’
“My exes, if you look at my life, they just quit supportin’ me. Plus, they didn’t want to have sex anymore,’’ Daly said. “When that happens – and I’ve always been straight up front with every one of them – I said, ‘If you’re not going to give it to me, I am going to go out and get it somewhere else.’
“Is that adultery? Maybe so, but from what I understand, when you’re married they’re supposed to give it to you.’’
Asked if that’s what he talked to Tiger about at last year’s PGA, when Daly supposedly gave consul to Woods at Tiger’s request, Daly concurred. Or as the interviewer worded it: “So Woods should have gone up to a podium and said, ‘I’m not getting (sex) anymore, I’ve had enough.’?
“Exactly,’’ Daly retorted. “That’s what I did.’’
Or as Daly further spun it: “I told (Tiger), ‘If you would have come out that night (Thanksgiving, 2009) after the (one-car crash) incident and told the world what was going on – not listened to your agents, not listened to the anybody else, just what your heart said, and thought what you just told me – this story would have ended in one day.’’
Daly is amazing, but then again, so is Woods, who comes in No. 2 on the All-Bad Boy team. Granted, it wasn’t “127 or 128 women,’’ but Woods did do a great job of totaling his career with his infidelity that was played out through a dozen-plus mistresses. Plus, the bare truth is that Woods just isn’t a nice guy, although he’s not the leader in F-Bombs on Tour despite dropping more than a few on network TV.
No, that honor goes to Anthony Kim, who is just getting started on his bad boy image. Kim comes in at No. 3 primarily on the strength of his rampage last year at the Justin Timberlake tournament in Las Vegas.
Apparently, AK (-47?) got the boot from a cuss-loaded craps game at Bellagio and then went Happy Gilmore by showering the dance floor at another casino with a bottle of Dom Perignon. To top off his weekend, where everything that went on in Vegas apparently didn’t stay there, Kim thumbed his nose at the tournament by withdrawing with a thumb injury.
Which brings us to No. 4 on the All-Bad Boy team – Sabbatini. Truthfully, would anybody really care about Sabbo if he wasn’t such a well-known sour puss? Even when Rory Boy played for the University of Arizona, he was a head case who liked to destroy clubs and throw tantrums. Why would six wins and $24 million ever change the spoiled South African?
Rounding out the All-Bad Boy first team is Pat Perez, or “Double P’’ as he goes on his website, www.patperezgolf.com, where flames and a golf ball/clubs shaped like a skull and cross bones greet visitors. Once known as “the most tempestuous player on the PGA Tour,’’ Perez finally won a tournament to somewhat cool his hot head. Not that this dude who packs a signature boxing glove headcover will ever change, mind you.
Not long ago, the Tour suggested that Perez under go anger management. This followed a couple of well-publicized blowouts, the most notorious meltdown being the 2002 AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, where he led all the way until a quadruple-bogey on the 72nd hole.’’
“The Tour suggested it, but I didn’t go,’’ Perez explained. “I get mad and show it. The only way I won’t get mad is if I win every tournament.’’
Such reasoning is why Perez is such a solid fit for the All-Bad Boy team. There were others who received consideration, like Tommy Armour III, the infamous carouser of Birds Nest fame; Colin “Rabbit Ears’’ Montgomerie, who has read the riot act to more than a few fans; Vijay Singh, “the Cheatin’ Fijian,’’ enough said; Frankie “the Blade’’ Lickliter, who once pulled a knife on a guy in a Georgia bar; and Jim Thorpe, the Champions Tour player who recently got paroled from the Big House where he had been housed for tax evasion.
It’s just hard to look past Daly, Woods, Kim, Sabbatini and Perez, as these are exceptional examples of players who truly are bad to the bone. But, hey, at least they’re not on the Tour’s All-Wimp team with crybabies like Paul Casey!
Quick: Who is the better player between these two young international stars — Matteo Manassero or Rory McIlroy? And for that matter, who has the more wins, the 17-year-old Italian or the 21-year-old from Northern Ireland?
Chances are most of you answered McIlroy, who looked like a world-beater through 63 holes of the Masters before his meltdown on Sunday at Augusta National led to an 80 and a tie for 15th place.
Granted, there was McIlroy back in the thick of it last weekend in Malaysia, where he three-jacked twice going down the stretch and lost to Manassero by a couple of strokes. But to his credit in his very first, well-documented Twitter (or is that Tweet:), he wrote: “Well done, Matty! What a player for 17!”
Which is becoming a common theme for the kid with the curly, albeit shorter, mop of hair – making fun of himself. Like when he imploded on the 64th hole of the Masters with one of the more memorable snap hooks in golf history – “I don’t think anyone’s ever been over in those cabins before.’’ Or when he posted that very cabin photo on his account: “Apparently I was spotted house hunting last week. LOL!’’
LOL? OK, BFD, I can’t rip a young kid for having a sense of humor even if Rory does get abrasive occasionally, like when he pimps the TPC Sawgrass, the PGA Tour and Tiger Woods in general. But the fact is a lot of people have anointed McIlroy after only two professional wins – one in the U.S. and one in Europe.
That, by the way, is the exact number of times Manassero has won on the Euro Tour, as he became the second-youngest player to ever win there last weekend to go with his youngest ever record (16) a year ago. Considering McIlroy is four years his elder – Manassero turned 18 Tuesday and McIlroy goes to 22 on May 4 – I’ll take Manassero.
Here’s what I don’t like about McIlroy’s game, which has nothing to do with the kid from Holywood (no, that’s not a typo). He can’t putt, especially in the clutch. It’s cost him numerous times coming down the stretch in his brief career. Granted, the snap-hook drive at No. 10 at the Masters lit the powder keg, but it was the four-jack at the 12th that blew his bid sky-high.
McIlroy reminds me of a combination of Adam Scott and Sergio Garcia, who were both the “next Tiger’’ at one point in their early careers. But Scott and Garcia have yet to win a major, and Sergio never will. Even though Scott has gone to the long putter, I don’t see it happening for him, either.
The rub on Manassero is that he’s short off the tee, but make no mistake, this youngster can putt, which is what I like about him. That’s why Matty is No. 33 in the world and rising, and why, ultimately, after he gets a little more bulk to his frame and length to his game, he’s your next superstar – “the next Seve,’’ which just happens to be Manassero’s hero.
MORE KIDS STUFF
Speaking of young and restless, how about Peter Kyo Won Koo’s win last week in the Arizona Stroke Play tournament at TPC Champions, where the 15-year-old from Chandler beat the best amateurs in the state?
That was impressive stuff from the freshman at Hamilton High, who became the youngest winner ever of an Arizona Golf Association tournament. The cool-headed Koo, who already is No. 2 man for the Huskies, took a five-shot lead into the finale, blew the lead and then came back to win by 2 strokes.
Koo’s gutsy effort in the face of adversity (he had lost his big lead after just five holes) erased the old standard held by the late Bob Goldwater (1926 Arizona Amateur) and Philip Francis (2005 Arizona Publinks), who were 16 when they did the trick.
Seriously, I can’t help myself. I love the game’s annual magical mystery tour in Augusta, Ga., that much. I guess you might say that’s what happens after being fortunate enough to attend and report on 20 Masters from 1989 to 2009.
The truth is, I was hooked after my very first experience in ’89, when I covered the tournament for the Arizona Republic. In fact, I was blown away the moment I entered Gate 4 off Washington Road, the site of the old “Press’’ parking lot. Back then at the Masters they didn’t refer to reporters as “media’’; that came later.
It was always “members of the press,’’ like we were a pack of barking dogs. Just like the fans were and still are known as “patrons’’ and the players “contestants’’ or “invitees.’’ It’s old school and quite Southern.
As a sports journalist and part-time fan, I have attended and reported on some mighty big sporting events during my career – the Kentucky Derby, the Super Bowl, the World Series, Wimbledon, the Final Four, the NBA Finals, the Rose Bowl, as well as golf’s other three major championships – the U.S. Open, British Open and PGA Championship – and the Ryder Cup. In fact, I’ve covered 46 majors and four Ryder Cups.
Nothing, nada, zilch, zero comes close to the magnitude and the majesty –and just a darn good time — as the Masters. If they all knew just how good it really is, golf purists would sell their souls for one of those weekly “patron badges’’ that cost $200. I still remember plunking down a hundred bucks for the very first one I purchased in 2000, as “the press’’ was allowed to buy a badge each year for their spouse.
Walking through the gates of Augusta National for the very first time — with all the flags from all the different countries represented in the Masters field flying overhead — was so very cool. But taking those first steps onto the course that Bobby Jones and Alister Mackenzie carved out of the legendary Fruitlands Nursery was like stumbling upon the Emerald City in “The Wizard of Oz.’’ (And to think, because of a lottery that was held each year for the golf writers, I was lucky enough to get to play Augusta National twice, which was nice because the first time I didn’t sleep a wink in anticipation of my tee time!)
Guaranteed, you’ve never seen anything quite like Augusta National. The vegetation is as if they mixed the pristine fairways and greens of Pine Valley into the gorgeousness of Golden Gate Park. And those spectacular, sweeping, extremely dramatic elevations just blow you away. Visually, Augusta National is overwhelming, especially when you consider the course drops 17 stories from the highest point (the first green) to the lowest (12th green). By comparison, Niagra Falls drops 173 feet. Or those monstrous greens, like the 16th that drops 15 feet from the bunker side to water side.
It is truly a step back in time, as the course looks much the same as when it first opened in 1934 with Horton Smith as the winner even though ol’ Horton didn’t get the green jacket, a tradition that began with Sam Snead in 1949. Even the prices — like beer for $2 and $3 (“regular’’ or “premium”) and those overrated pimento sandwiches for $1.50 – remain entrenched in the lore along with the ice cream sandwiches for a buck.
So are those ubiquitous Georgia pines that frame the fairways and greens, as well as those beautiful blooming magnolias. And though there are only a handful of stately oaks on the property, you never will forget the 100-year-old-plus giant oak that fans out regally on the clubhouse lawn thanks to a series of cables that holds its ancient arms together like a patient in critical care. The old oak tree is where “the press’’ has gathered since early times.
On the other side of the clubhouse, which actually is the front entrance, is where the photo opportunity lies. Cameras are allowed as group after group of ladies and gentlemen wait in line to get a photo with those famous yellow mums that form the body of the Masters logo – a small garden in the shape of the United States with a pin protruding proudly out of the lower right-hand corner where Augusta is located.
Oh, is that the one-and-only Magnolia Lane right over your shoulder? Yep, if you turn around while you’re waiting in line for your photo, there lies the tree-topped canopy over the road that everybody who’s anybody in the game has driven down at least once in their lifetime. Of course, that includes members (or “green jackets,’’ as they are dubbed by “the press’’).
Speaking of must-see (immediately!) Masters landmarks, there’s the game’s holy grail also known as “Amen Corner,’’ which includes the terrific trio of holes numbered 11 through 13. The second shot on the par-4 11th is perhaps the scariest on the course, considering it’s always struck from a downhill lie with water left, bunkers right and the green sloping towards Rae’s Creek. The 12th is, hands down, the most difficult tee shot of four very demanding par 3s, especially with the wind swirling above the trees. The 13th is the easiest par 5 on the course IF you can work the ball around the corner of a seriously tilted fairway that is guarded by Rae’s Creek on the left and a small pine forest to the right.
Other well-known features of “the National,’’ as the members like to refer to it, include the fairy tale-like Hogan Bridge, which arches over Rae’s Creek to the 12th green; the Sarazen Bridge that fords the pond to the 15th green; and the Eisenhower Tree that guards the 17th fairway. Each has a great story behind it, but it’s hard to beat Sarazen’s “shot heard ’round the world’’ in 1935, when “The Squire’’ holed a 4-wood from 235 yards for a double-eagle 2 at the par-5 15th. Sarazen trailed Craig Wood by three shots at the time, made them all up in one swing, and then beat Wood the next day in an 18-hole playoff.
During my 20 years at the Masters, my personal tournament highlights included watching Tiger Woods win by 12 in 1997, in what was truly a turning point in the history of the tournament and eventually led to “Tiger –proofing’’ the golf course; observed two of Phil Mickelson’s three wins (2004, 2006) as a fan and a reporter for the East Valley Tribune; scratched my head in disbelief when Nick Faldo went back-to-back in 1989-90 as both Scott Hoch and Raymond Floyd choked; and the emotional week when “Gentle Ben’’ Crenshaw came from nowhere to claim his second green jacket shortly after burying his life-time mentor, Harvey Penick.
There were so many other memorable moments, like renting homes from the locals through the Masters Housing Bureau. That was an amazing experience, considering we rented our first house for $1,000 for the week and our last house for $3,600 for the week – the first house being way better than the last. (Unless you don’t mind cock roaches.)
Along the way we stayed in Augusta, North Augusta (yes, it’s a suburb), Martinez (pronounced Martin-ez) and Aiken, S.C., which is on the other side of the Savannah River from Old Town Augusta. Believe it or not, about 500,000 people live in the metropolitan area, which is quite a few for what one local once told me: “Is a town that comes alive for one week and is ‘dead’ for the other 51.’’
But for that one week, Augusta (population: 200,000) will give you a year’s-full. We used to go to a blues-themed supper club in the Old Downtown area (Broad Street) called “Word of Mouth,’’ which was a circa-1900s building that once housed James Brown’s notorious nightclub. Yeah, the same red-brick wall that the “Godfather of Soul’’ once drove his car through in a drunken stupor still remains. So does the 165-year-old Partridge Inn off Walton Way, where President Warren G. Harding, America’s first golfing president, hosted his election gala. And speaking of Walton Way, which borders the western side of Augusta National, you had to drive down this storied street at least once every day just to check out the awesome Antebellum mansions where all the corporate “players’’ hosted their weekly Masters parties.
Speaking of shindigs, the Irish Tourism Bureau still throws a bash for the golf writers in one of those throwback homes of yesteryear on Thursday nights of tournament week followed by the PGA of America’s barbecue on the river on Fridays and CBS’ clambake on Saturday nights.
Parties by hosts like TaylorMade, Nike and Golf Digest also are a major part of Masters week, although I always had more fun checking out the cuisine and vino at places like TBonz, a Washington Road roadhouse where the players and caddies liked to hang (well, a few players like Jack Nicklaus and Fuzzy Zoeller); the French Bistro, a bizarre New Orleans-style seafood restaurant that was always packed tighter than crawdads; the ageless Surrey Bar, made famous by the old CBS posse of Pat Summerall, Ken Venturi and the late Bob Drum; Luigi’s Italian Restaurant, a mainstay in Old Downtown known for its “Greek chicken’’; the namesake Green Jacket Restaurant that went belly up and became a Bible store; and Coconuts, a popular nightclub (not the strip version) where I once observed a drunken female patron taking it all off — for free!
There were other things about Augusta and the Masters that remain timeless and entrenched like a life-long tradition in my mind. The heavy pollen that would turn virtually everybody’s rental cars lime green throughout the week; the Richmond “Boss Hoss’’ County sheriff’s deputies who were always doing their best to out-glare the Pinkertons through their mirrored-covered sunglasses; everybody being referred to as “Mr.’’ or “Mrs.’’; and my first encounter with Krispy Kreme donuts that were later made famous by Phil the Thrill (Or have you forgotten the green-jacket photo at the Krispy Kreme drive-thru from last year?)
And then there was my most infamous moment ever at the Masters, which came in 2009, alas my last year before they banned Internet writers and thus shut out the last of the Arizona “press.’’ As I was leaving the course from Wednesday’s practice round, I ducked behind the men’s restrooms near one of the exits on the course to do a radio interview that I already was late for and desperate to get done. And, yes, I knew the rule of “No Cell Phones’’ but, oh well, play at the Par 3 Contest already had ended hours ago and it was nearly 7 o’clock at night with not an “invitee’’ in sight.
“Sir, is that a cell phone you’re using?’’ a Pinkerton asked me from seemingly around the corner. Shocked, I dropped the interview with XTRA Sports 910 in mid-conversation and tried to hide the phone. But it was too late.
Two hours later, I was cleared of any wrongdoing and promised I’d never, ever talk on my cell inside golf’s holy grounds again. Adding to the chagrin that week, the ending was one of the biggest duds of my two decades at the Masters, with Angel Cabrera beating Chad Campbell and Kenny Perry in a playoff.
Oh, well, spring has sprung again, and golf’s annual rite is upon us. Which brings me to what now has become ‘’my major misery’’ for a second straight year.
Tucson has dodged the “high, hard one’’ once again after the PGA Tour announced on Monday that the WGC-Accenture Match Play Championship is returning to the Ritz-Carlton Golf Club at Dove Mountain near Marana for 2012.
There was one significant change, however, as the Tour also announced that long-time employee Gerald Goodman would replace Tucson’s Wade Dunnagan as executive director of the Match Play. Dunnagan, a popular figure in the Arizona golf community, had been in that position for the past three years.
Monday’s announcement squelched a recent rumor that the Match Play was headed for the TPC Blue Monster at Doral in Florida. According to that erroneous report, the WGC-Cadillac Championship that had been played at Doral recently was headed for Detroit, where Cadillac is headquartered. (Just remember there’s still 2013.)
Judy McDermott, the long-time executive director of the Tucson Conquistadores, which hosts the WGC-Accenture Match Play, said she was “elated and relieved.’’
“Now we just need to keep it here through 2014, which was kind of the goal right from the beginning,’’ she said. “At the same time, we realize that it’s all going to stem from the Tour’s television contract that will be renegotiated next year.’’
One of the big stories surrounding this year’s tournament, besides the ascension of Martin Kaymer to No. 1 in the world and winner Luke Donald’s rise to No. 3, which gave the Europeans the Nos. 1 through 4 spots in the world rankings, was whether or not Tucson will still host the Match Play in 2012. Speculation had it moving although most felt with the current TV contract on the table it might be here for one more year.
Tucson does have a contract with the PGA Tour to host the Match Play through 2014, but as McDermott noted the contract has a clause that makes it “breakable.’’
“Who knows how it will all play out?’’ McDermott acknowledged. “As I’ve told (the Conquistadores), we can only do what we can do and make sure that every time we host the tournament we do the best job we can in case it’s the last.
“But even if we lost the Match Play, I’m very hopeful that we would still get to host a tournament on the PGA Tour.’’
Tucson is one of the oldest tournament sites on the PGA, dating back to 1945, when the Tucson Open was first contested at El Rio Golf Club. The Conquistadores have been the official host of the event since 1966, raising over $15 million for local charities.
Goodman, a former college football star at North Alabama who served as an assistant coach at his alma mater, Louisville, Mississippi State and Southern Mississippi, joined the PGA Tour in 1989. Among his previous posts, he was the director for the J.C. Penney Mixed Team Championship, as well as the PGA Tour stop in Tampa Bay, Fla., most recently called the Transitions Championship.
Goodman said he got out of football and into golf after the staff at Southern Mississippi failed to win more than six games in 1987 with a freshman quarterback named Brett Favre.
“It’s funny how things work out, but a friend on that staff at Southern Mississippi went to work for the PGA Tour, and he called me and asked me if I’d like to join him,’’ the good-natured Goodman recalled. “So I took a job in the golf business and I never looked back.’’
Goodman said that one of his first gigs with the Tour came in Tucson when he was working in the marketing and promotions department as an on-site coordinator.
“I think I was there from 1989-1995, and I got to know Tucson a little bit, and I liked it,’’ he said. “What I remember most, I guess, is the last year I worked that tournament at TPC Starr Pass it snowed, just like it did during the final day of the Match Play at Dove Mountain this year.’’
Goodman said that he spent the previous four months before this year’s tournament working with Dunnagan and the staff at the Ritz-Carlton at Dove Mountain. And like McDermott, he couldn’t say if the Match Play would remain in Tucson beyond next year.
“I think the tournament is going to be in the same situation as this past year: Wait and see,’’ he said of the Match Play’s future. “We’ll just have to see how the TV contract all plays out.’’
Goodman, who will arrive in Tucson on Wednesday and be headquartered at the tournament office on Oracle Road, said he relished the move from Florida to Arizona.
“Florida can be kind of lackluster when it comes to professional golf, in that the fans have a tendency to take things for granted since they have four straight PGA events all within 200 miles of each other every year,’’ he said. “You don’t get that (lackluster) feeling in Tucson.
“Tucson (fans) and the Conquistadores, they get the economic impact, which is why the Match Play gets such solid support. Our job is to hit the ground running and be part of the community. We’d also like to get some new ticket programs out there, as well as tap into the Phoenix market a little bit more.’’
Goodman’s enthusiasm seems well-intentioned, but the question remains how long Tucson can hold on to the Match Play with its international stars, especially the Europeans, on a dramatic rise in stature? Chances are great that the answer won’t come until next year, shortly after the Tour pounds out all the details for the TV contract, which given the current economy and lower-than-average ratings, will surely lead to a revamped schedule in 2013.
After winning last year’s Lorena Ochoa Invitational, South Korea’s In Kung Kim, now known as I.K. Kim, donated her entire $220,000 check to charity. It was a gesture that drew international acclaim.
This week, the LPGA is taking this unique concept a step further, as the 132 women playing in the inaugural R.R. Donnelley’s LPGA Founders Cup in Phoenix will donate the entire $1 million purse to charity.
How will it all work out, women playing for “funny money’’ at the J.W. Marriott’s Wildfire Golf Club? Will it be more of an exhibition than a tournament? Will the fact that Michelle Wie is not in the field impact the gate?
Inquiring minds want to know, but chances are great the answers won’t come until Sunday in this 54-hole tournament set to tee off Friday following a star-studded pro-am on Thursday.
The Founders Cup, which honors the 13 original founders of the LPGA, is the brainchild of Michael Whan, the relatively unproven LPGA commissioner who enters his second season at the controls of women’s golf. Granted, his players and others seem to love Whan’s enthusiasm, but the bottom line is the LPGA hasn’t gotten much better from a financial or number-of-tournaments standpoint since Whan became head of the floundering tour left on the brink of disaster by former commish Carolyn Bivens.
“One of the truly exciting things about the 2011 LPGA Tour schedule is the launch of an inaugural event that I just can’t be more excited to tell you about,’’ said the “excitable’’ Whan and only. “It’s the RR Donnelley LPGA Founders Cup. That might sound like a mouthful, but what you’ve got to remember is ‘Founders.’
“You know, at the LPGA we sometimes we forget to look back and remember; appreciate how we got here in the first place. But it’s really pretty simple: Over 60 years ago 13 women came together with a mission. That mission was pretty simple – to empower, inspire and educate young women through the game of golf.’’
But while this new event is “pretty simple’’ for Whan, a lot of the players have yet to figure out just how this new event with its “mock purse’’ is going to shake out. And if the truth be told, there has been some criticism from the ranks even if the field, at least overall, looks solid with three of the top-five players, including Yani Tseng (No. 1), Jiyai Shin (No. 2) and Cristie Kerr (No. 5), headlining the marquee.
But the flip side of that is six of the top-10 players are missing, including Wie ( 8th) and Japanese star Ai Miyazato (6th). Wie, arguably the biggest name in women’s golf and a frequent participant in past LPGA events held in Phoenix, is reportedly taking tests at Stanford this week while gearing up for her sponsor-driven Kia Classic next week near Los Angeles.
Filling the void are players of larger ilk, American stars like Paula Creamer (No. 12), Morgan Pressel (No. 14), Christina Kim (No. 51) and Natalie Gulbis (No. 96), as well as local favorites such as Amanda Blumenherst (No. 80), Pat Hurst (No. 108) and Grace Park (not ranked), a six-time winner who hasn’t played a full season due to injuries in the past three years.
And while most of the women have endorsed the Founders Cup quite heartily, there also has been a bit of a backlash, too, with players like Creamer, Pressel and Kerr voicing their concerns before eventually joining the field. Hey, even the most generous I.K. Kim is not in this week’s field!
“It went from concept to an event on the schedule too quickly,’’ Kerr told the Golf Channel of the tournament that was first mentioned by Whan last summer, hatched in December, and unfolds this week just a little over three months in the making.
“It’s turned what was an opportunity into an obligation.’’ Say this about Kerr, the reigning queen of mean in women’s golf, she never minces words and there’s usually a lot of truth to what she has to say no matter how brutal.
But even Whan realizes he made some initial mistakes before, hopefully, getting it right with $500,000 going to the LPGA Foundation and its LPGA-USGA Girls Golf program and $500,000 to the top-10 finishers’ charities of choice.
“Did we rush it, yes, and I’m not embarrassed about it,’’ Whan told The Arizona Republic. “The idea wasn’t rushed, but like with any tournament, it starts with a corporate sponsor and that didn’t come together until December.’’
So the stage is set, and while it’s not exactly perfect, at least the LPGA is back in the Valley of the Sun after a one-year absence that broke a string of 30 consecutive tournaments dating back to the 1980 Sun City Classic.
The good news is that the field is, for the most part, stellar considering all the women can gain is monopoly money that counts in the standings, as well as a potential berth for the top three finishers who have yet to qualify for the season-ending Titleholders Championship.
And, of course, that Hall of Famers Nancy Lopez, Betsy King and Patty Sheehan will play in the Thursday pro-am as well as compete in an 18-hole exhibition that kicks off the tournament Friday at 7:15 a.m.
Oh, yes, and three of the original founders – Louise Suggs, Shirley Spork and Marilynn Smith – will be on hand to share in the festivities. Smith, an adorable octogenarian who lives in Litchfield Park, is worth the price of admission ($20) alone.
The bad news is that the players, including a bunch of rookies like local up-and-comers Kimberly Kim, Jennifer Johnson and Tucson’s Sara Brown, won’t make any money in a year where they will only get into eight or 10 tournaments on the LPGA’s very limited 24-tournament schedule. In fact, like Lopez, King and Sheehan they, too, are playing for what amounts to an exhibition money-wise.
The other bummer is that the LPGA secured public parking over at WestWorld in Scottsdale, meaning a lengthy shuttle ride in school buses for those fans that want to make the effort. You wonder if somebody forgot to check out the availability of all those vacant fields along Tatum Boulevard that are just a few minutes away from Wildfire.
There are other major questions that could go either way:
*How large will the crowds be for the week? From 2004-2009 – the first five years at Superstition Mountain Golf & Country Club in Gold Canyon and the last one at Papago Golf Course in Phoenix – over 100,000 fans showed up for each event. But the parking and golf courses were much more accessible than what’s awaiting this week.
*Can Whan and his LPGA staff pull this off despite having just three months to get ready at a golf course that’s never hosted a pro tournament? Will the infrastructure – stands, food and drink, porta-potties, etc. – be there to support the fans that do turn out?
*Will the players be satisfied with their stay in Phoenix? Will they like competing on Wildfire, which is being blended together with the back nine from the Palmer Course (No. 1 through No. 9) and the back nine of the Faldo Course (No. 10 through No. 18)?
And then there is the biggest question mark of them all – will the LPGA return to Phoenix in 2012? At the moment, Whan’s grand plan for the Founders Cup calls for it moving back East next year to an RR Donnelley stronghold – Hershey, Pennsylvania – while bringing in a new tournament to Phoenix that is based on the availability of yet another corporate sponsor.
Once again, that’s a lot of “ifs, maybes and buts’’ for the future of the LPGA in Phoenix, a city that Whan and his crew need dearly if they are to get the LPGA back on solid ground.
My suggestion: Savor the moment and enjoy the LPGA while we can.
TUCSON – If there ever were any doubts that European golfers have surpassed their American counterparts, the results of the latest WGC-Accenture Match Play Championship reflect brilliantly on the sorry saga of U.S. demise.
England’s Luke Donald finally wins a big tournament Sunday and jumps to No. 3 in the world rankings. The guy he beats in the Match Play final at the Ritz-Carlton Golf Club at Dove Mountain, Germany’s Martin Kaymer, ascends to No. 1 despite the loss.
Add Donald’s countryman, Lee Westwood, at No. 2 and Northern Ireland’s Graeme McDowell at No 4, and the top foursome in the world will be all-Euro when the latest rankings are released Monday. It is the first time such an oddity has occurred since 1992 — or pre-Tiger.
Unbelievable? Perhaps. Disturbing? Not really, although it does bring up a couple of questions that loom rather large when it comes to this seismic shift in global golf power:
*What’s happened to Woods and Phil Mickelson, now the No. 5 and 6 players in the world? Between them they’ve won once in the past year and currently are just barely ahead of two more Euros – No. 7 Paul Casey and No. 8 Rory McIlroy – and sliding fast after early exits in Tucson.
Can what happened to the LPGA – total domination by International players coupled by a disappearance of American stars – happen to the PGA Tour? After all, of the original 64 players invited here this past week, 24 were Americans and 40 were from someplace else. By comparison, the original Match Play field in 1999 included 41 Americans and 23 Internationals.
Just check out the past year starting with last year’s Match Play Championship, an all-England final where Ian Poulter beat Casey. In fact, three of the past four Match Play champs have been Europeans, the other being Sweden’s Henrik Stenson in 2007.
Then you toss in the fact(s) that two of last year’s four majors were won by Euros, who also beat the Americans in the Ryder Cup, and, well, it is a different world we are living in golf-wise these days.
Or as NBC’s Johnny Miller so succinctly put it: “They’re doing something right over there, aren’t they!’’ And, no, he didn’t phrase it as a question.
Donald and Kaymer were clearly the class of this elite field, which might be the last Match Play Championship ever held in Tucson. The Tour, Accenture and host Tucson Conquistadores will meet in the coming weeks to decide the event’s fate. Some said this week that the tournament already was out of there for 2012, while others said it has at least another year.
If it was the final curtain for the Match Play it proved memorable, with snow blanketing Dove Mountain on Sunday morning and a hailstorm stopping play early in the afternoon with Donald in control. When play resumed, Donald did what he had done all week, he fought off his opponent through the middle of the round(s) with birdies at the 11th and 12th holes for a 2-up advantage, and ended up winning, 3 and 2. Somewhat remarkably, he never trailed at any point during the week.
For the 33-year-old Donald, his biggest victory ever was his first win on Tour since the 2006 Honda Classic. He has now won three times in America and three times on the European Tour.
“I’ve had a bit of a monkey on my back the last five years, not winning here in the U.S. But with a lot of blood and sweat we got here,’’ said Donald, who ran his individual record to 16-6 in this tournament as he stepped firmly on the world stage.
“It certainly is payback for all the hard work I’ve done. But hats off to Martin for being No. 1 in the world, I guess that makes (the victory) a little sweeter.’’
Asked how he did it, Donald, a smart kid who went to Northwestern, where he was NCAA champ, put it all in perspective: “I just don’t give many holes away and that’s important in match play.’’
With the exception of a few errant drives, Donald did everything else right as he became the first Match Play champ to win every match before it reached the final hole, going an unofficial 24 under for the 89 holes he played over five days.
“It couldn’t have gone any better,’’ he added. “Not to go to the 18th hole in any of my matches, that allowed me to go through stress-free.’’
Obviously, Kaymer, who lives in Paradise Valley when he is not in Dusseldorf, would have been in even better position had he won the $1.4 million prize instead of runner-up money of $850,000. (Oh, well!) At 26, “the Germanator’’ is the second youngest to be No. 1 in the world behind Woods, who was 22 when he went to the top.
“I just didn’t play as well as I did the last few days,’’ said Kaymer, the reigning PGA champ who became the 14th player ever to be ranked No. 1 in the world.
“I played OK, but the way Luke plays, a decent round isn’t enough. He’s a tough competitor, always difficult.’’
But asked about being No. 1 in the world and having the three other guys under him all Europeans, Kaymer smiled.
“Yes, especially to be the first is nice on the top,’’ he said mixing up his English slightly. “Yeah, of course, European golf has been great.
“For us to make golf even more popular in the world, it’s fantastic to have four Europeans up there. It was always Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson, and now there are four Europeans up there, so it’s good.’’
Get used to it. While nobody is rubbing the Europeans’ iron grip on the game in anybody’s face quite yet, it will become a much bigger issue by the time we get to the Masters, when that rivalry will be all the rage.
If you’re looking for the winner of this week’s British Open at Royal St. George’s, don’t pick Rory McIlroy, the heavy favorite with the bookies.
