Golfpocalypse

I believed in the magic of Tiger Woods when I was a kid (but I'm a cynic now)

October 10, 2024
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TIMOTHY A. CLARY

Golfpocalypse is a weekly collection of words about (mostly) professional golf with very little in the way of a point, and the Surgeon General says it will make you a worse person. Reach out to The Golfpocalypse with your questions or comments on absolutely anything at shane.spr8@gmail.com.

Earlier this week I was reading Kyle Porter's newsletter, Normal Sport, which is always engaging and worth your support. I was particularly interested this week because he interviewed Rory McIlroy, and one passage specifically caught my eye. I wasn't alone—I saw a bunch of references to it on Golf Twitter, and Porter wrote about it again a couple days later. Here's what Rory said:

"There's certain people in the game that I would say … how can I put this? We're all in this together, right? We're all in the game of golf together, and we all want to push forward. And I always wonder why some people in the media ask questions that have a negative connotation toward golf, or make golf look bad or put it in a bad light. … I get it. I get that it's human nature and negativity sells. … But if we're all in this together, and we all know that we can benefit by raising the game up, some people in the media I'd love to ask why their coverage of golf is so negative."

Disclaimer: I've always enjoyed Rory, and appreciate both his intelligence and especially his openness relative to his fellow pros. I say all that first because, to put it mildly, I hated this. I hated it so much. First off, it completely misses the point of what media is supposed to be (hint: not PR or propaganda for the players or their tours), and second, it does that sneaky thing where it pretends to be sympathetic while assigning a malicious intent to journalists: "I know you have to say bad things to sell content."

Here's the thing: The media is supposed to be critical when it's necessary—granted, golf media has been historically bad at this for a few reasons, which has probably skewed expectations among players and executives—but also, if we write or say something negative about the state of professional golf, I can promise you it's not because we're trying to line our pockets. We are not a wealthy people; there are no windfalls for being mean. It's because the state of professional golf is ABYSMAL right now compared to what it should be after the recreational boom, and everybody knows it. Later in the interview Rory lists a few things that he thinks should be avoided or just given less focus, one of which is "viewership is declining." But, uh … viewership is declining. To ignore that, or to ignore how unsavory and off-putting the last three years have been, would not make me a good little soldier in the golf army; it would make me look like a complicit cheerleader doofus who should rightfully be distrusted by every reader on the planet.

HOWEVER, it did get me thinking about my own mindset when it comes to golf, and how it's changed. The truth is, I still get a huge kick out of covering the game both in person and from a distance, and I love playing it more than I ever have … that part of the game is more romantic to me than ever, even though I suck and throw clubs. And there's a lot of positivity in what I write, even about the professional game. But it also brought back a specific memory from childhood, which stands out for me as the last time I bought into a professional golf phenomenon without a shred of hesitation or cynicism.

It won't surprise you to know that it was all about Tiger Woods, and the first time I saw him in person. When I thought back to that day, and all the excitement I felt, I pictured myself being 8 or 9 years old; the emotions seem so young to me now. In fact, Tiger's professional debut came in 1996, and the height of my fandom started in 1997, so I was already 13 or 14. It's sort of nice to know I was still a wide-eyed believer that late in the game.

In '97, my family and I were on vacation in Florida, and we took a day to go see the Players Championship. I never played golf as a kid, and I mostly spent weekends annoyed at my stepfather for putting it on TV on Sundays instead of the NFL, but I was just starting to like the majors, and I couldn't help but be swept up by Tigermania. He was just so insanely awesome, in every way, an absolute perfect athlete for the hype machine as it existed in those pre-Internet days.

Only a few things stand out from that day at Sawgrass. I remember that Len Mattiace was built like a brick shithouse (Wikipedia tells me he's only 6'1", but that day he looked like a linebacker to me). I remember at one point Duffy Waldorf walked past me along the ropes, and in the process of trying to say hello to him, I mangled his name: "Hi Mr. Dalworf." He just waved politely. And of course, I remember Tiger. The specifics of what he actually did are completely gone to me, because my memory is garbage, but the energy around him was unforgettable, completely raw and exciting. I waited in a line to get his autograph when it was over, and got within a dozen kids before his agent said "that's it," and they all walked away. I didn't even care that much—it was cool just to be close to him.

And what was I going to have him sign? Obviously, a Nike hat. Those slick, beautiful, pristine hats that he made look so incredibly cool, and which I would have bought in every color if my parents weren't horrible tyrants who limited me to two or three.

That detail is kind of funny, in hindsight, because even in what felt like an innocent time for me, marked by pure admiration for a great athlete, I was being absolutely worked over by a major company. There was so much money to be made from this guy, they knew it, and kids like me were ripe for the picking. Two weeks after I saw him, Tiger won the Masters, and the whole enterprise shot to the moon. Clearly, I wanted those hats worse than ever. Nothing unreasonable, mind you … a dozen or so would have done nicely.

I'm older now, and while I admire plenty of professional golfers as sportsmen and people, I'm never going to love any of them like I loved Tiger at age 14. Which is good! Despite what Rory said, you wouldn't want your golf media to feel that way, and the ones that do are insufferable cornballs. We should be able to appreciate things in an adult way, with a nice adult distance, without losing our passion.

All of which is to say, I will never be that infatuated with a hat again, unless someone can find me a few of the old Cobra visors Ian Poulter used to wear, in which case I will happily trade you my entire house and several of my best cousins.

FIVE TOUR THOUGHTS, DUNHILL/SANDERSON EDITION

1. Beau Hossler's attempt to take TIO on 18 was hilarious, and my position on the whole thing is that if you're operating within the rules, you deserve no criticism. Get yours, Beau. No player can just take TIO illegally; it has to be approved by a rules official, and if you can work those rules to your favor, all is fair in love and war. Hossler trying to contend that he was going to pull off a sick pull slice if not for those pesky bleachers? That's the good stuff, and it's not cheating or even borderline cheating. It's up to the rules official to call bullshit, and two of them did, which means the system works. What's not to like about TIO? It's weird, it's hilarious, sometimes it's necessary, but it always generates controversy. If anything, we need more of it. I will defend TIO to the death.

2. I don't know what it is about me, but I love when a player screws up under pressure and then just takes his medicine and speaks openly about it. Keith Mitchell's three-putt on 18 that cost him a spot in the playoff had to be quietly devastating, particularly on the heels of leading for most of the back nine, but his interview literal seconds later was great. He owned up to his goof, and we even learned something kind of fascinating, which is that in his frustration at missing the first putt, he actually turned his head away as it went by the hole, and failed to watch the line as it rolled four feet past, thereby giving up a great chance to get a read for the next putt. It cost him in a big way when he missed the par putt, but produced a pretty interesting tidbit later. All in all, he seemed to keep it in perspective beautifully, and I came away liking Keith Mitchell a lot.

3. One of the charms of the DP World Tour is that it seems like every week, there's some guy who comes out of absolutely nowhere to contend. I mean, can someone explain to me how Nicolas Colsaerts almost won at St. Andrews? The last time I saw this guy play relevant golf was at the 2012 Ryder Cup, when he smoked cigarettes up and down the fairway and beat Tiger. The dude is now 67 years old! (Note: I looked it up, he's only two months older than me ... shit.) Even looking at his world ranking, with the high finish at the Dunhill he has just barely cracked the top 200. And yes, I realize this stuff happens occasionally on the PGA Tour as well, but because we see so much more of the Americans, it has less of a shocking effect when one of them resurfaces out of nowhere. Also, the Europeans who do it inevitably have more personality. The fact that Colsaerts was in the mix was awesome, and I hope next week Jean Van de Velde makes the final group.

4. With Tyrrell Hatton winning the Dunhill, and Cam Smith winning the 2022 Open just before he defected, it has become clear that the "Home of Golf," the spirit of St. Andrews, and indeed the very ghost of Old Tom Morris, have taken PIF money and gone to LIV. That's a huge get for them.

5. You know how there was a major plague of Camerons on the PGA Tour a few years ago? I fear we now have a similar pestilence on the DP World Tour, and the offending name is "Rasmus." I base this entirely on a spotting a second Rasmus besides Hojgaard, one Rasmus Neergaard-Petersen, on the Dunhill leaderboard. But it's important to catch these things before they become a big problem.

THE ABSOLUTE IRONCLAD LOCKS OF THE WEEK

Golfpocalypse is not a gambling advice service, and you should never heed anything written here. Better picks are here.

Career Record: 4-34. Jim Furyk finished T-65 at his own damn event. Folks, I really need a win.

The fall stretch continues on the PGA Tour with the Black Desert Championship, and because I'm going to be in Ireland this weekend on a family trip, I'm going full Irish here and picking Seamus Power. If an American like me can go over to Ireland and win (and by "win," I mean "drink 10 Guinness beers in one evening,"), then surely an Irishman can come to America and do the same.

There is not a single Irish player in this week's French Open on the DP World Tour—a shame, since France and Ireland have their hatred of the English in common—so I'm forced to take the next best thing and turn to the Scottish. I took a peak at the leaderboard, and saw that Calum Hill is already 3 under, so I'm going with him. Did you know he went to Western New Mexico University? It sounds like a fake school, but Wikipedia says it's very real, just like Calum Hill.

At the Buick LPGA Shanghai, we're back on Team Ireland with Leona Maguire. Speaking of Wikipedia, it turns out there's an entire page on China-Ireland relations. Who knew! Once, when I was studying abroad in Dublin, I saw a video about a kid from China who took it on himself to learn the language because he loved Ireland and wanted to move there, but it turns out he taught himself Gaelic, not English. I can't remember what happened when he showed up, but I think it was heartwarming.

The old fellas of the PGA Tour Champions are in my neck of the woods in Cary, NC for the SAS Championship this week, and lo and behold, the betting favorite is Irish fellow Padraig Harrington! I love Paddy so much. He's one of the rare people who can speak for 15 minutes at a time, saying mostly the same thing over and over, but still make it sound fascinating. I think he's a secret genius.

At LIV Golf Lagos, I'm extremely bullish on Seamus O'Shaugnessy McDoyle.

THE "DUMB TAKE I KIND OF BELIEVE"

They should do one tournament on the PGA Tour, one time only, where the fans are encouraged to scream and yell during players' backswings. I'm dying to see how this would affect scores, and which golfers would absolutely crumble with the noise.

THE READER STORY OF THE WEEK

This one, from Justin, ties into both the SAS Championship and interacting with a professional:

At the SAS Championship in Cary in the mid-2010s, I was a college student who was dumb and never been to a professional golf event. Me and my friends followed around Fred Couples' group. After every shot he hit, I yelled "get in the hole." In retrospect, this is the worst. We watched the coverage later that night and after one of Couples shots, you can hear me yell. And the hot mic catches Couples saying to his caddie, “Who is that punk that keeps yelling?”

This is hilarious, and also, good on you Justin for reforming your ways. I always assume most "Get in the hole!" guys stay that way for life, but I'm glad to see there's hope.

Previously on Golfpocalypse: