Etched In My Mind

By John Hawkins
Photos By Getty Images November 26, 2008

Time for my fifth annual compilation of the year's most indelible memories, a personal collection gone public, which isn't to suggest that anyone remembers a thing from the first four. When you spend 60 to 80 hours a year talking to the world's best golfers, usually on practice ranges and putting greens, your handicap may not go down, but you will put together a nice mental scrapbook.

Tracking down Kenny Perry at the Barclays
I had been critical of him for skipping the U.S. Open, which wasn't all his fault, and the British Open, which was, leaving me to wonder about the state of our relationship as I drove to New Jersey on a Tuesday in late August. When I tried to reach Perry in early July, he told me through a third party that he didn't want to talk. Not surprising, but I felt a need to resolve the matter because we'd always gotten along so well.

I found him hitting balls late that afternoon, one of maybe a half-dozen guys on the range, and approached him not knowing what to expect. Perry greeted me as if I were his long-lost brother. We hung out for about 20 minutes, and when I tried to explain my position regarding his absence at the majors, that the game's top players should feel obligated to play in the biggest tournaments, Perry smiled. "No big deal," he said. "Hey, you made me famous."

It was an amusing assessment from a guy who revived his career in 2008, winning three times and making the U.S. Ryder Cup team, then playing well against the Europeans in his home state. Kenny Perry is a true Kentucky gentleman, as humble and courteous as they get, a guy who makes it hard to remain objective when journalism enters the room. He should have played in both national championships, but business is business. Personally, he's a favorite of anyone who knows him.

An hour with Freddie at the Deutsche Bank
We've gotten to be pretty good friends over the years, at least close enough for me to know that Couples is a fascinating, complex, ultra-intuitive man with a short attention span and a very long memory. He was all over the map on the range that day in Boston, his moods changing faster than the Scottish weather, although he still came up with a couple of good ideas on how to make pro golf more exciting and interesting.

It wasn't the first time I walked away wondering whether Freddie thinks of this stuff himself or borrows it from the millions of people who enjoy being around him.

Couples was having trouble settling on a driver that day, although he hit no more than 15 balls in that hour while chatting with a group that included tour reps from three different manufacturers. He would smash one 300 yards with 10 feet of fade, turn to the rep and say, "nah, this won't work," then restart the conversation about everything wrong with the FedEx Cup playoffs. Fifteen career victories, one major title, zero dull moments. That's Fred Couples for you.

Any chat with the best in-the-know source on the PGA Tour
At Riviera CC to tape a segment of the Golf Channel's "Grey Goose 19th Hole," we were on our way to tape the show when I bumped into Joe Ogilvie, who told me the players had just voted to amend the new cut rule that had caused such an early-season uproar. Most tour pros know very little about the administrative side of their business. Those who do won't tell you much. Ogilvie is plugged in and candid -- a bright, articulate guy who is very aware of the value of the media. The tour is full of good people who aren't.

Tiger and Rory at Torrey
Woods and Sabbatini had both shot 67 in the first round of the Buick Invitational, low score of the day, which meant both would be coming to the media center. Since they had finished at about the same time, there was a decent chance they would cross paths. Sure enough, Woods arrived to do his press conference about halfway into Sabbatini's session, then ducked into a nearby room, where he would wait until the other guy was done.

This was six or seven weeks after Sabbatini withdrew from Tiger's year-end tournament with 18 holes to play, claiming a sore wrist but also in last place, seven strokes behind the next closest competitor. Woods is a 36 handicap in the game of Forgive & Forget, but in case anyone had forgotten, he served up a pretty foul reminder when laying into Sabbatini during the three or four minutes he sat in that little room.