Wednesday, June 13, 2007

When They Hit A Ball That's Moving, That Will Impress Me

Kvetching continues over the course conditions for the US Open, where, if you believe the players, the greens have been replaced with linoleum, the fairways are narrower than Nicole Richie, and the rough is tall enough to hide sasquatch and his extended family.

At the risk of revealing my utter indifferent to the game of golf, I must say: who cares? These are supposed to be the best players in the world. This is supposed to be the toughest course in the world, so who better to challenge it? All of this yakking about how nobody was getting the ball 30 feet out of the rough is simply Tiger and Phil's version of working the refs before a playoff series, hoping that they can make the coursekeepers nervous enough to make things more favorable the first time someone bounces a three-wood off a squirrel.

Suck it up, ye men in plaid pants. The ball just sits there, you don't have to deal with hostile crowds (imagine Tiger trying to three-putt in Fenway some time around the sixth inning), and someone else is doing the heavy lifting for you. The least you can do is play the game.
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