In Defense Of Uncommon Sense
It might be hard to believe, but this year's bizarre rulings actually were right
The year 2010 will not be remembered for any particular playing accomplishment but rather for Dustin Johnson failing to realize he was sharing a bunker with dozens of spectators who had nowhere else to go on a depraved course that led mobs into hazards.
Johnson, although he had been warned repeatedly of the existence of trampled bunkers by the besieged PGA of America, nevertheless grounded his club in the bunker.
The ensuing and wholly justified two-stroke penalty meant Johnson would not be the PGA champion.
The Johnson debacle was but one of a yearlong series of high-profile rules incidents that seemed to swallow the game.
These rules happenings were followed by roars of outrage at the injustice of it all. The Rules of Golf, it was reported in bona-fide media and anonymous blogs, are an ass. It was all very Tea Partyish in that the government, in this case the rules-making USGA, was denounced as causing nothing but harm. The rules, said the critics, were made by doddering old men in a haphazard manner designed to irk those with common sense who were sure all the publicized rules confrontations could have been handled in some ad-hoc manner resulting in no penalty for the likes of the nonreading Johnson, who, after all, didn't mean to ground his club in a hazard and surely gained no benefit in doing so.
Mind, the USGA has asked for trouble by performing badly in many areas of its provenance. It foisted upon the game a new groove rule on the basis that doing so would improve the game dramatically, whereas all it did was make golf a more expensive game by encouraging golfers to buy new clubs for no good reason. But handling the Rules of Golf is what the USGA is good at. (I exclude Rules 4 and 5 on equipment, the evolution of which has been a disaster.) Because the USGA is good at rules, the game is one of law and respect. Cheating, taken for granted not only in other games but throughout our society, is not tolerated in golf.
Take the celebrated Derek Jeter incident of September. During the heat of a pennant race, Jeter, the New York Yankees shortstop who passes as a sportsman in baseball, was at bat when an inside pitch struck the end of his bat. The ball bounced into play for what should have been an easy out. Instead, Jeter pretended the ball had struck his elbow. He conned the umpire, was awarded first base, and later chuckled about the affair in the clubhouse.
Suppose it was golf and a player had talked an official into a free drop to which he was not entitled under the rules. After the round he brags about it to the media, i.e., he was able to get the ball into an advantageous position he knew very well he was not entitled to have. The golf outcome would be disqualification for violating a rule and not making note of it on his scorecard; he would become an anathema to other PGA Tour members, and because he bragged about knowingly breaking a rule, chances are he would be fined and suspended.
Here is a summary of how the rules-making system works: There are four members of the Rules of Golf Committee drawn from the USGA executive committee of 15. They meet three times a year.
Additionally there are consulting members from the PGA Tour, the LPGA Tour, the PGA of America, regional amateur golf associations, the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews, and three past presidents of the USGA. In other words, all of golf is included in the process.
Worldwide uniformity on rules, the USGA's holy grail, happens through its relationship with the R&A. The two bodies have an understanding that the basic rules will be amended only every four years.
Interpretations of the rules, called Decisions, come out every two years. Though the Rules of Golf booklet is small enough to fit easily in a golf-bag compartment, the bound book of Decisions is something of a brute. The Decisions, however, bear the same weight as the basic rules, so that if one commits to playing the USGA Rules of Golf there is an equal commitment to do what the Decisions say.
The USGA's paid staff is on the case daily. There are eight staff members, headed by rules director Jeff Hall, who spend all or most of their time working on the rules.
The staff answers every question, profound or trivial, submitted to the USGA. There are about 15,000 each year. Phone calls on the subject are counted. There were 8,223 in 2009; e-mails accounted for another 6,908.
As for those controversial 2010 happenings, that of Johnson, who was palpably guilty, comes first. There were, however, villains of management outside the rules. The PGA of America has no business playing its championship on a course so designed that spectators can't follow players without plodding through bunkers. As for the PGA official who was right there with Johnson, I know of no capable official who would not have said something like, "You know you're in a bunker, right?"
As for other rulings that raised hackles:
Juli Inkster was disqualified for turning in an incorrect scorecard because she failed to penalize herself for using a practice device as she waited during a round. The instrument was one of those weighted donut-looking things that slips over a club to make it heavier during practice swings. LPGA officials learned of the infraction after the round from a TV viewer.
The use of practice devices during play is banned in the Rules proper. The donut is identified as such a device in a Decision. Inkster in her reaction of innocence said she gained no advantage, an argument which, if accepted, would quickly lead to the abandonment of the Rules of Golf entirely.
But the hue and cry over the outcome centered on the source of the testimony -- television -- which bloggers say should be ignored as an enforcement tool.
Rules officials have an obligation to examine all credible evidence. For them, a mean television viewer is no different from a fellow-competitor or opponent. I would ask those who would ban TV callers as follows: Suppose a drunk comes out of one of those hospitality tents and tells a member of the field staff he has just seen a clear violation on a 50-inch TV set. How is that different from the witness having seen it in person or in his home?