Memo to Sergio: Less conspiracy, more crying.
Oh, Sergio. As the Fine Young Cannibals once sang, you drive me crazy. The excuses. The poorly delivered sarcasm. The pouty pretense. Are you so self-immersed that you can't hear the sickening snivel in your sulk? Have you no clue how petulant your post-British Open behavior struck anyone with two ears and an ounce of respect for the laws of fine sportsmanship?
Dude, I know it hurts. I know that you would drive all three Ferraris you'll purchase with the $925,000 second-place check straight to the Salvation Army parking lot and hand over the keys if somebody was waiting there with a claret jug. We've known each other for eight years, and I've seen you initiate acts of kindness to those less fortunate that brought tears to my eyes. Only two people have ever made the Angry Golfer cry, Sergio. The guy who heaved all 14 clubs into a swimming pool, then asked me if the grips would get ruined. And you.
If we assigned handicaps to the size of a tour pro's heart, you would give most of your colleagues two strokes a side, but we're talking about the British Open. Here's the deal: You knock it in the hole 72 times. We add it up, and if there's a tie, you head back out for four more. If you lose, you shake the winner's hand, come into the media center and discharge every raw emotion that doesn't smell like downtown Edinburgh.
You stand in front of the television cameras and tell us how frustrated you are. You can reference all those bad breaks nobody else saw with a certain amount of contextual subtlety, but let's leave the conspiracy theories to the JFK freaks, OK?
One last thing, Sergio: You can cry. Sobbing does an image good, and right after we fetch you some tissue, we'll send you on your way, a bigger and better man in the long run. Now go get yourself ready for the PGA Championship. Hit a few extra putts, leave that red-on-orange outfit and the martyr costume at home.
Columns by The Angry Golfer -- a.k.a. Golf World columnist John Hawkins -- appear exclusively on GolfDigest.com. We're pretty sure he's angry about that, too.