5 BIG STARS FOR FOX HOLLOW GOLF CLUB!

by Doug McAllister

Many folks around here remember it as Tri-City. Tri-City? The course, now Fox Hollow, was apparently owned by three cities in northern Utah County: American Fork, Lehi and Pleasant Grove. I think most agree that "Fox Hollow" has a decidedly classier ring to it.

But, regardless of how it is remembered, Fox Hollow Golf Club is about as classy a course as you will find.

It wasn't always that way. Before the new clubhouse and new name, the course sported a rundown shed-of-a-shop that, according to employees, was infested with all sorts of critters and had a basement/cart garage that spent many a day filled with water. After the old place had been torn down I happened to be speaking to one of the club pros. "Did you shed a tear or two when they knocked down your old digs?" I asked. "Hell no!" he snorted without hesitation. He then chuckled as he told me how he and others on staff teed up range balls and broke all the windows in the place just before the wrecking crew did its worst.

And the new spread is something to behold, complete with a full-service pro shop and a reception center!


A VISIT FROM THE KING

Fox Hollow has a reputation of being one of the hardest golf courses in Utah. An apocryphal account still circulates that, while on a course designing trip to Utah, The King, Arnold Palmer, played a variety of courses in the area and Fox Hollow — still named Tri-City — was on his list. After his round, the course staff wanted to know Palmer's impression of their beloved course. According to the story, Palmer noted that it was a nice course. "Too long for the weekend player," he added. Needless to say, it was probably the finest compliment that Palmer could have paid. For years thereafter, the Tri-City faithful would boast to anyone that would listen that Arnold Palmer, himself, had said their course was too hard for just anybody!

Would have been interesting to hear Palmer's assessment of the old clubhouse.


STILL A TOUGH TRACK

A tradition of solid golf continues with Fox Hollow. Never mind what the clubhouse was, the course has always been, in my opinion, a well-designed and challenging showpiece, offering players the feeling that you are away from things when actually surrounded by suburbia. And it seems to be getting better with age.

Yeah, it's a tough track — for those who insist on playing from the back tees of machismo land. 7,077 yards from the back tees, with a course rating of 73.1 and a slope of 123. But, like most courses out there, the course does have three tees besides the back ones, offering an enjoyable time for players of all skill levels.

The Utah Golf Association web page describes the Hollow like this:

"Old style golf course, with water on 5 holes. A premium is placed on the tee shot on most holes, with length and accuracy both required to score well. Many trees and few bunkers with a beautiful view of the Wasatch Mountains."

Most of the individuals who seem to have a problem with Fox Hollow hate its length. Add to that some narrow fairways, lined with old, full-size trees and it's easy to see why many would rather go elsewhere. Fine with me if they do.


TOP-NOTCH PRACTICE FACILITY

Fox Hollow also sports one of the best practice facilities that I have ever seen. You won't find AstroTurf-covered-cement hitting pads to jangle your arms and destroy your clubs if you happen to hit it a little fat. The driving range, planted with natural grass, is also fully lighted for after dark practice.


Fox Hollow Golf Club is a 5-star public course that is well worth the visit. Play 9 or 18 and, given the challenging nature of the course, you'll want to...

Hit 'Em Long and Straight!

THE STRANGE TALE OF BOB HUDSON THE GROCER

by Doug McAllister

As the Ryder Cup approaches this weekend, I thought a bit historic sentimentality was in order.

Ever hear of Bob Hudson? Me neither and yet it is highly possible that without him there would be no Ryder Cup this week! Really? Apparently so!

Thanks to a wonderful article by James Achenbach that was recently published in Golf Week Magazine, I learned about this unlikely golfing hero. If you love the Ryder Cup you should know about him as well.

The year was 1947. Seems that the Ryder Cup was on the ropes following World War II. The event hadn't been played in a decade. Interest waning on both sides of the Atlantic. No money available to fund the event or bring the British/Irish team over for the matches scheduled to be played that year at the Portland Golf Club.

Enter Bob Hudson. Hudson, never better than a 16 handicapper, was, nonetheless, passionate about golf, explaining that, while his well-to-do friends put their money into yachts, he put his into golf.

To make a long story short, Hudson apparently almost singlehandedly funded the 1947 event. He paid for everything, the price of passage of the British team to the States, their hotel rooms when they arrived — all expenses! And he did the same for the American Team as well! The remarkable article can be read in its entirety at http://www.golfweek.com/news/2010/sep/27/bob-hudson-ryder-cup-portland-golf-club/.

Now, the lesson.

There seems to be no record whatsoever of Bob Hudson — at least that I could discover — arising from searches on the Internet, other than Mr. Achenbach's excellent article. Surely Hudson had to have some semblance of an ulterior motive. Did his wholesale grocery business benefit from his generiosity, just as FedEx's did this past weekend at the culmination of this year's uber-event that so prominently bore FedEx's name? Not that I could discover. Surely a comprehensive biography would pop up on Wikipedia or on some other online encyclopedia. Try as I did, I could find nothing!

Marvelous!

In short, here was an individual who benefited the game at the grandest of levels who seems to have been content that the Ryder Cup continued on! Bob Hudson apparently didn't step forward after first calculating the ROI that he would enjoy. No. Apparently he stepped forward as a golfer, one dedicated to the game and its continuity at all levels and in all arenas!

For me, the story of Bob Hudson will make the matches this weekend that much more meaningful.

With that in mind all of us should be more inspired than ever to...

Hit 'Em Long and Straight!

JIM FURYK SAVES THE (PLAYOFFS) DAY

by Doug McAllister

And just like that the PGA Playoffs and the FedEx Cup are redeemed! At least for today.

As noted in my last post, I was more than a bit skeptical about how things might turn out this year. Fortunately the new guys fizzled and a tried and true tour veteran rightfully took his place at the pinnacle of this year's golf world.

But, aren't we supposed to welcome new greats to the game? Didn't Jack Nicklaus, Ben Crenshaw, Payne Stewart, Ernie Els and many, many others have to win their first BIG ONE somewhere and sometime?

Sure they did, but none of them did it by sneaking in the proverbial back door of the current "lottery loaded" PGA. The FedEx Cup, with its complicated points system and its unreasonable weighting of the final four events, is the latest in a long line of snotty and materialistic MARKETING-BASED programs, supposedly designed to bring golf to the forefront. It's all about money any more. Golf, the game, is secondary.

I had to laugh as during today's event one of the suits from FedEx was interviewed. Nothing but transparent business posturing! The guy probably wouldn't know a real golf ball if it hit him in the back of the head. All he could talk about — and I was absolutely amused at how unabashedly he laid it out there — was how the FedEx Cup was nothing more to the main sponsor than a pathetic marketing ploy. He said nothing about FedEx's dedication to promoting the good of the game. No! It was all about how the event and FedEx's participation therein was adding to the company's illegitimately bloated bottom line!

Even more telling were the interviews with the players. When each was asked whether they knew during the course of play where they stood in the points tally, each laughed off the system as being wildly complicated. How true! Each would have needed a statistician walking the course with them along with their caddy! In the end, the common statement by each was something like, "I came here to play the best golf I could and really didn't have time to be worried about where I stood in the points tally or calculating which shot would win things for me." Good for them!

And, what if Golf doesn't need to be brought to the forefront? What if Golf was just fine and dandy before everyone and their dog decided that the game was the latest chic fashion statement?

Which brings me back to Furyk's achievement. Here we have a golfer's golfer. No weirdo glamor or pretty-boy face that everyone is trying to get a piece of. Just a steely-eyed game designed to do what it did for Furyk this weekend and all through the year and Playoff series. Minus, of course, his being inappropriately and shamelessly disqualified at the Barclays. But that, my friends, is another discussion entirely.

Everything about Furyk seems to be...well...unattractive. Except for the results he achieves! And no apologies necessary! His hawkish looks. His gangling physique. And swing coaches have been commenting on his unorthodox swing since he hit the tour. You won't find him on glitzy ads for Gillette razors. You won't see him on billboards, wistfully staring off into space, stupidly contorting his wrist so you can't miss seeing his Tag Heuer watch! You won't see his face staring back at you from posters stumping this or that golf brand. As I said, no glamor. No glitz.

But that's what makes Jim Furyk so beautiful! His notoriety — what there is of it — comes from his performance on the greens and fairways of whatever event he is currently playing. Furyk plays golf because it's as much a part of him as his eyes or feet or elbows or heart!

Player of the year 2010? Unquestionably! If the honor goes to anyone else it will be a major injustice to Furyk and to the game.

Enough said! HELAS!

FEDEX CUP WIN = BEST PLAYER OF THE YEAR? NOT HARDLY!

by Doug McAllister

With the Tour Championship in full swing (some pun intended) at East Lake in Atlanta, thoughts turn toward wrapping up the golf year. With that the focus naturally turns to what a FedEx Cup win really means.

A couple of posts ago, I shared thoughts about the excellent article by John Feinstein in a recent issue of Golf World magazine. You will recall that it is Mr. Feinstein's opinion that the PGA Playoffs are — cutting right to the nerve — a sham! As I have considered it, I have come to completely agree.

Think about the top 30 now playing in the culminating event of the PGA Playoffs. Who is there and who really could be classified as a top player — let alone PGA Player of the Year? Okay, we have Phil Mickelson. Kudos to Phil. Big check mark there. We have Ernie Els — new inductee into the World Golf Hall of Fame! Congrats! Ditto. Ditto. Jim Furyk, Retief Goosen, Geoff Olgivy and Zach Johnson — all past Major Championship winners as well — are in the field. Check. Check. Check. Check.

Then we have Steve Stricker, a consistent journeyman player who has arguably paid his dues. Check!

And then things start to get really dicey! Many others in the field — chiefly the Dustin Johnsons, the Charley Hoffmans and the Matt Kuchars — are here as "lottery winners." Face it, they got lucky by winning Playoff event that dumped unreasonable jackpots of FedEx Cup points on players who, given regular season play, might have been lucky to be included in the Tour Championship field at all!

Sadly, the result of all of this is that the PGA has transparently become the latest sports organization to almost completely sell its soul to Mammon! Mammon? You know, filthy lucre, "The Almighty Dollar." Mammon!

And with all due respect to the players, the fault is not theirs. They belong to a sports association that says "Here's how it will be" and that's it. None would be expected to walk away from the lottery any more than any of us would be expected to slam our front door in the face of the Publisher's Clearing House representative standing there with a check as big as the door itself! So on they go.

What is left, though, is the sad reality that each of us, as golf fans, may be required to consider the year's final results with a monstrous asterisk floating in the back of our minds. Regardless of who wins the FedEx Cup, along with its inflated paycheck — unless, of course, Phil or Ernie or Retief manages a miracle finish at East lake — each of us is left to "qualify" the results. I can hear it all now. Something like this: "Yeah, Matt Kuchar is a good golfer. Wonder if he'll back up this year with a Major?"

An unfair sentiment? A consummately fair sentiment!

It was another World Golf Hall of Famer, golf writer Herbert Warren Wind, who stated in 1954, "A golfer's true greatness must always be measured by the number of Major Championships he wins." Hear, hear! Currently, despite the questionable marketing efforts of the PGA, the FedEx Cup is not recognized as a Major Championship. And — unless the PGA gets its act together and works out a system that fairly and accurately recognizes appropriate annual golfing achievements that warrant an invitation to the Playoffs and result in participation in the Tour Championship — here's hoping it never will be!

But, I'm abandoning my favored mantra that nothing that the PGA does matters to the heart and soul of Golf or that of each individual golfer. Apologies. After all, I'm only human.

But, keeping the proper golfing perspective in mind, take up your clubs, smell the grass and listen to song of the meadow larks that love a golf course nearly as much as you do and get out there and...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

SEPTEMBER 20TH — AMERICAN GOLF'S "INDEPENDENCE DAY!"

by Doug McAllister

One can look back at the history of golf and spot important dates. Some on a world scale, others more bound to the American home front. (Or should I say Course front?) Majors won. Ryder Cup victories and defeats. Some triumphs. Others tragedies.

But for all American golfers there is but one date that should stand out above all others. This date was — in my view — the day that America became a legitimate golfing presence. Like the American Revolution and July 4th, 1776 go inseparably together, American golf and September 20th, 1913 should go together like ... well ... dimples and golf balls! What's so special about that date? Some of you know, but for those who don't...


AN MOST UNLIKELY "TRIUMVIRATE"












Harry Vardon (left in photo) was considered by many to be the greatest Englishman to play the game. Arguably he till is. Up from the most humble of beginnings, Vardon would amass a championship record that included winning six Open Championships (a record that still stands today). The Vardon grip was named for him.

In 1913 he might have lost a step or two but was still considered a major golfing threat to the fledgling United States Open being played that year in Brookline, Massachusetts. Although not as shining a star in the golfing firmament, Vardon's friend and partner, Ted Ray (right in photo) was nearly as formidable an opponent as was Vardon. So when these two British giants came to the States with the intent of carrying away the U.S. Open Championship most believed them capable of doing it.

I won't go into additional biographical detail for Vardon and Ray. Suffice it to say that they were preeminent golfers and champions — as golf writer, Bernard Darwin would later put it — "Two Goliaths" that struck fear into the hearts of most of the competitors of the day.

Which brings us to the third member of the trio in question.

Francis DeSales Ouimet (at center in photo) was, in every sense, a golfing "David" when pitted against the gigantic foes considered here. Not a golfing hack in the least, Ouimet was a champion in his own right having won the Massachusetts State Amateur and other events. But to consider the notion that he could stand with the likes of Vardon and Ray was something that no one seriously entertained.

THE GREATEST GAME EVER PLAYED

And so it was that the fray was joined and, in the end, a three-way tie resulted at the 1913 U.S. Open. A playoff was scheduled for September 20, 1913 and included Vardon, Ray and Ouimet. The story is one that has been appropriately told and retold. In my opinion, the best accounts are to be found in the book The Greatest Game Ever Played by Mark Frost and in the excellent Disney movie of the same title with Frost contributing the screenplay.

It is history that every American golfer, at least, should know about.

It has been appropriately argued that, without Francis Ouimet and his unlikely victory at the Country Club in Brookline, there would have been no Bobby Jones. No Arnold Palmer. No Jack Nicklaus. And, if we must, no Eldrick Tont "Tiger" Woods. Oh, sure things might have rolled out in subsequent years to legitimize golf in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave. But Francis Ouimet was the perfect hero to give golf the boost into America's sporting mainstream that it needed. American's dearly love the underdog — especially when he is a stripling 20-year-old and one of their very own.

In the end, Ouimet was able to proudly raise the U.S. Open trophy high, having defeated his two professional foes in classic style. And, like all good stories, Ouimet, Vardon and Ray remained fast friends over the course of their lives.


PUT IT ON YOUR CALENDAR — REMEMBER IT!

And so, September 2oth, which just happens to be today, should be a day that is inscribed in ink on your collective calendars. Commemorate it just as you would the 4th of July. Why not? After all, prior to Ouimet's striking championship, British golfers dominated championship golf in these United States. No, we have no record of them wearing red coats or harassing the citizens of Boston. But isn't it fitting that, in 1913, a golfing George Washington stepped forward — in the same vicinity as the famous military shots heard round the world! — and put golf solidly on the map of the American sporting psyche!


Pick up Frost's excellent book. Watch and enjoy the Disney movie.

Get out there today — on this day of days in American Golf — and celebrate! What better day to tee it up, waggle proudly at the thought of our golfing history and...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

A WEEK OFF: A FEW RANDOM THOUGHTS

by Doug McAllister

What a void a week off from the regular PGA schedule makes. I guess that the thought is the 30 who have qualified for East Lake need time to regroup, to rest and to get ready for the finale.

Given the fact that I wasn't able to spend my Saturday following the latest event, I found my mind entertaining a few random thoughts about the Playoffs, the game generally and, with the Ryder Cup just around the corner, about my favorite golfer of all time, Payne Stewart.


THE PLAYOFFS

I have to admit that my thoughts today about the Playoffs and the FedEx Cup were spurred by a rather astute article in this week's issue of GolfWorld magazine by John Feinstein. Tucked in the very back of the issue, the article provides some rather eye-popping facts about the current playoff system.

Did you know that, should a player finish a legitimate Grand Slam during the course of the calendar year — all four majors during the same annual season — he would garner only 2,400 points toward winning the FedEx Cup? But isn't 2,400 a pretty impressive number? Not when compared to the 2,500 points that the winner of a single Playoff event receives. That's right, Matt Kuchar won 100 points more for winning The Barclays than he would have won had he completed the Grand Slam! Ridiculous!

Even more ridiculous is the fact, so eloquently communicated by Feinstein in his article, that Charley Hoffman garnered the same 2,500 points for winning the BMW and never hit a single shot in any of this year's Major Championships. That's correct! Hoffman could walk away with the FedEx Cup — a trophy positioned to represent the best player on tour this year — without having qualified for a single Major. Preposterous!

I had never really put 2 and 2 together here. It's mind boggling to admit that the Playoff seems to be as broken a process as it is. Oh yes, the Player of the Year honors are not inseparably tied to the FedEx Cup, but shouldn't they be? Should someone this year win the FedEx Cup and not be the Player of the Year, that would certainly begin the debate in earnest!

Read Feinstein's article if you get the chance. You'll, perhaps, come away as I did, with the notion that the PGA these days is far, far more about money and not nearly enough about real golfing excellence and achievement.


GOLF'S STAYING POWER

But, as I've noted ad nauseam in past posts, Golf's staying power is as far from the workings of the professional ranks as Earth is from Pluto (that is is the second-largest known dwarf planet in the Solar System (after Eris) and the tenth-largest body observed directly orbiting the Sun. Originally classified as a planet, Pluto is now considered the largest...er...but I'm woefully off track!).

Think of it (again). Whether Eldrick misses this year's BIG DANCE or whether Camillo Villegas switches his clubs from Titleist to TaylorMade or whether John Daly's golf pants can actually trigger seizures among viewers in the gallery IS TOTALLY IMMATERIAL! That's right! Not one of the seemingly earth shattering scenarios can straighten your slice or sharpen your ability to read a hard-breaking putt or add twenty yards to your drives.

Want to know why? Because Golf is as personal to you as your own fingerprints. If you're a true golf aficionado the PGA could go to Pluto and you would keep on playing the game just as you always have. Think about that. If your satisfaction of the real game of Golf depends on the workings of the PGA it's time to hang up the clubs and join Roosevelt Grier's online crocheting club!


THERE WILL NEVER BE ANOTHER PAYNE STEWART

Owing to the lack of a tournament today, I popped in a recording of the 1999 U.S. Open at Pinehurst #2. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I recall watching the tournament back in '99. The drama of Payne's final round. His amputated rain jacket. Stewart's long, sweet swing. The final putt. Magical stuff then. More magical still when one realizes that Payne had just a few months left to live.

Since '99 it's been interesting how much Payne's legend has grown. TV specials. Biographies. Special foundations and funds in Payne's name. Remarkable!

Payne's class, especially when juxtaposed against recent goings on in the lives of various Tour players, is sorely missed in far too many ways. For one, no doubt — if Stewart were alive — we wouldn't be tolerating Corey Pavin at the helm of this year's Ryder cup venture.

But despite the fact that Stewart's life was so rudely snuffed out over a decade ago, there are those who forge on in the same spirit. I miss Payne because he was one of the rare few on Tour who seemed to be able to separate Golf from the professional game. He was also able to put Golf and life in the proper perspective. One need only watch the end of his triumph at Pinehurst in '99 — as he clutched Mickelson's face and wished luck for Mickelson's imminent fatherhood and offered the counsel that fatherhood was the BIG DEAL — to know the truth of that!


With that, HELAS!

EVEN FOR TIGER, IT'S DRIVE FOR SHOW AND PUTT FOR DOUGH. OR IS IT?

by Doug McAllister

As Tiger makes an early exit from this years PGA Playoff series, the excuses begin to buzz like flies near a cow pie! The Tiger-o-philes are quick to explain why the #1 player in the world is completely justified in his paltry play over the past few months, generally, and his dreadful play in the past few weeks, particularly: Give him a break! He's retooling his swing. You don't do that overnight. It can take months! He's got a new coach. That's why Tiger is a bit off his game. If golf were totally about driving and approach shots — the full-swing shots apparently being addressed presently by Coach Foley — I would probably wholeheartedly agree. But it isn't.

We've all heard the old cliched adage, "Drive for show and putt for dough." Quite simply the meaning here is that, regardless of the steps taken to get to the green, the real dividing line between those who win and those who don't is how the putter is working. Right?

Walter Hagen's version of this was, "Three bad shots and one good shot still makes par!" And you don't have to be a genius to note that the one good shot he was talking about was invariably a putt.

Let's face it, Tiger has never been a straight shooter from the tee. Far from it. He sprays the ball all over the course. What used to make Tiger unbeatable was his ability to scramble in and sink Hagen's good shot — the winning putt.

So what is all of this nonsense about Tiger needing time to reengineer his swing in order to win? Take a look at the putts he's missed of late. He's seen far more than his share of makeable putts and, truth be told, he has simply blown too many of them.

Or am I missing something here? Has Foley got Tiger changing his putting stroke as well? I haven't noticed bizarre new grips for Tiger. Unlike Vijay Singh, who lately changes his grip with every putt, Tiger is using the same setup, the same grip and, with the exception of a some play at the Open Championship earlier this year, the same putter.

So let's all take a deep breath and face the facts: Tiger is where he is right now because his confidence is totally blown! That's it and that's all! Foley will work with Eldrick. They'll go through the process. It will take whatever time it takes and...Voila!...without confidence it won't amount to a hill of beans! Tiger is where he is because his idyllic little life was shattered by a series of really stupid decisions and not because he somehow wore out the swing that literally set the world of golf afire in 2000.

Let's stop all of this nonsense about Tiger's losing streak is fine because he's "working things out." Let's face the music and own up to truth that Tiger just can't put his head where it needs to be right now. And — oh, yes — can we please stop with the stupidity that Tiger's slump is destroying the collective health of the Game of Golf?!

Want to realize the truth of that? Get out there, yourselves, and...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

GRANDPA ROPER'S ROUND: THE FLIPSIDE OF GOLF HATERS

by Doug McAllister

A few posts back I spoke of golf haters and told the tale of how my paternal grandfather was one the first I ever encountered. But that's okay. To each his own. I was recently reminded of how my maternal grandpa spent his first day on the course, an event that, to this day, will always bring a smile to my face, regardless of how bad I may have been hitting it on my most recent outing.

Vernon B. Roper was a content man. I can't spell it out any better than that. Circumstances deprived him of most of life's greater professional opportunities but you never heard him complain about it. His became a lifelong railroad engineer. Years navigating the rails for Union Pacific. Hard work. Would have been all too easy to simply let everything go and accept his place as a typical blue collar hero. Instead, he went about educating himself in every way he could possibly think of. He read everything he could get his hands on, was curious about everything and wasn't afraid to try new hings.

Which brings us to golf. Grandpa Roper had reached the apex of life's middle years and was gliding contentedly down the other side when he first tried golf. As is often the case when children attempt to buy a parent something new and different for a birthday, a range of possible gifts was discussed. In the end — you guessed it — the family determined that golf clubs would be a great gift.

And so it was that the birthday rolled round. A set of clubs was presented, along with plans for the first formal outing. Naturally, the venue was just up Grandpa's beloved Springville Canyon, a truly remarkable course called Hobble Creek.

You need to understand Hobble Creek, then and now, is anything but a "pitch-and-putt" track. Narrow fairways, tightly bordered by tall trees, favor exceptionally well-placed shots. To make matters infinitely more interesting, Hobble Creek — the stream from which the course gets its name — winds back and forth and back again over much of the course, forcing the prudent player to carefully choose clubs that will keep his golf ball dry. Once, my father-in-law, when asked whether he would like to come and play Hobble Creek, smiled and impishly noted, "I don't have the balls to play that course!" An eloquent assessment. In short, Hobble Creek was an exercise in advanced golf to which, some might have said, Grandpa was being led like a lamb to the slaughter. The stage was set for his first and, very likely, last round of golf.

What transpired, though, was a game of golf fit to inspire any and all who play this sometimes maddening game.

The first hole, as I was informed, played out fairly well. Not a par by a long shot, but no significant damage done. The second hole, a short par four, was where potential troubles should have begun. Despite its short length, the second is the first of numerous holes where the golfer gets to stare Hobble Creek, the stream, right in the face, the mountain brook traversing the fairway twice. No roll up shots here. And no worm burners — often the shot du jour of many a first timer — as these would find the stream just a few yards from the tee. It was suggested that a 7 iron from the tee might be a good choice for Grandpa.

Call it beginner's luck but Vernon Roper struck a near-perfect 7 iron — not terrifically long, given the length of the hole, but straight down the fairway. After the hearty congratulations were handed out, all in the group headed off for their next shots. When they reached Grandpa's ball, owing to the nice stroke he had made to get it there, it was suggested that he might try a 4 iron — enough to carry the stream on the other side and put himself in a position to chip his third to the green.

But an interesting thing happened. Grandpa's take on things was different. Why not stick with what works? Hadn't he just hit a nearly perfect shot with a 7 iron? Why rock the boat? It was quickly explained that a set of golf clubs includes fourteen different members in order to effectively address the numerous lies and scenarios encountered in a typical round of golf.

But, despite the best explanations possible, Grandpa Roper proceeded with his new favorite club. In fact, he hit every single shot for the rest of the round — whether on the long par 5's or the short par 3's — with his 7 iron. And, while his score (which he didn't keep) may have been an embarrassment to an obsessed golf aficionado, he came away from the round beaming. I had many chances to talk golf with him on various occasions after that. He always spoke glowingly of that first 7 iron and his first round at Hobble Creek.

The moral of the story: there is far more to enjoying golf than going low and perfect drives. More to it than pars, birdies and, occasionally, eagles. While these add considerable interest to the experience, I can't help but believe that Grandpa Roper got it right from the start and took it with him thereafter.

So next time your out for a classic round, remember the example of a contented old gentleman, making his way happily around a difficult course with a 7 iron on every shot. Every once in a while the quality of a shot trumps the length.

Keep that in mind and...

Hit 'em long (even by a 7 iron's standards) and straight!

SIGN ME UP FOR THE DUSTIN JOHNSON FAN CLUB!

by Doug McAllister

What can be said of Dustin Johnson? Think of it. In June he blows up at Pebble Beach with 82 during the final round of the U.S. Open. Has a freak scenario at Whistling Straits — a club grounded in a sand trap (that really wasn't a sand trap...but was by local rules for the week!) — and loses a chance to win his first major.

So, you would think, Johnson, by all rights, should go off and get into sales. After all, how could he get his head back into a game that had treated him so abominably over the course of just a few months? The game is rife with stories of other players who, having experienced similar disappointment, quickly evaporated from the forefront of the game and were never heard of again.

But today Dustin Johnson proved what he is made of. Playing his usual brand of Cool Hand Luke golf, Johnson won the BMW Championship — the third leg of this years PGA Playoff Series — and heads to next week's Tour Championship at East Lake Golf Club in the #2 position on the FedEx Cup rankings.

What does it mean? Quite simply, Johnson is now in a position with a win next week to take it all! A $10 million bonus and the Tour Championship to boot. Can he do it? With the resilience that he has shown since Pebble Beach, I would say that you'd have to bet the ranch on Johnson. Still, golf is an incredibly fickle game. Just ask Johnson. One minute you're tapping in a putt, believing you are to enter a playoff to win your first major and the next you're erasing the score you thought you had, adding two strokes in penalties for grounding your club where, just seconds before, half the population of Wisconsin had convened for a cheese-tasting festival — and you're heading for the showers. Fickle as can be!

But that's what makes golf what it is. And it's just the sort of game that someone with Dustin Johnson's character traits would excel at. And don't forget, Johnson is just 28! I'd say that he's got a lot more success ahead of him.

NOW, if we could only get him to shave off that ridiculous soul patch!

Until my next post...HELAS!

TIGER'S LATEST EXCUSE

by Doug McAllister

Tiger's regular golf season seems to be coming to an end as he straggles farther and farther from the number necessary to see him though to next week's Tour Championship at East Lake. And as the end draws near Tiger — as usual — has something to blame.

This time it's his retooled swing. Picture this. At the end of each round the reporters mob the "world's #1" and ask questions galore. And the one that gets the response? "So, Tiger, what's going on with your game?" No, it isn't enough for him to say, "Frankly, I just suck right now." No. He has to have something more, something that takes the blame away — something that let's him remain #1, at least in his own mind.

So it goes something like this. "I'm in the process of really extra-special, extraordinarily complicated, super-major swing changes! And — you know — it's all something that I have done before. It isn't that I'm losing a step and falling from the pinnacle of golf. So don't go out and get rid of your 'TW' logoed paraphanalia just yet. It'll all be back and I'll go right back to destroying everyone in sight! I have to be patient. I'm the new and improved Tiger!

"What? Take steps to win this week and move on to next week's Big Finale at East Lake? Oh! No, no, no, no, NO! I have to stick with my ultra-major swing changes or else Coach Foley will be mad at me and tell my mommy that I'm a bad little Tiger!"

It would be refreshing, just once, to hear him admit that his game's off for any one of a hundred good reasons. That, like his friend, Roger Federer, he's riding into the proverbial sunset. Instead, he makes it sound like there's some sort of nobility in sticking to his new swing. Balderdash! Everyone knows that Tiger would sell his mother for a chance to win again...and again...and again! Time to realize that his best days of golf are about ten years in the past.

And, having said all that, I'm still waiting for someone out there to make an rational argument on Tiger's behalf that will make it possible for me to — at least — tolerate the annointed one. Please!

Happily, the fact remains that golf is one of those pursuits that is totally enjoyable regardless of the professional players and their various win or losses or personal problems. Whether or not Tiger makes it to next week's event has absolutely no impact on my personal enjoyment of and participation in the greatest game of all! So, with that in mind, get out there, have a great time and...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

SOMEONE MAKE A CASE FOR TIGER! PLEASE!

by Doug McAllister

After one of my recent posts I received a question: "What is with you and Tiger? Why don't you like him?"

A valid question. It got me thinking. I tell ya, it would make life a lot easier for me if I could appreciate Tiger. After all, it's likely that he'll be around for some time and I'll be watching him, week in and week out, as I tune in to watch PGA events. Like Tiger would make it possible for me to more fully enjoy the events that he wins — which is currently impossible for me to do.

So I ask you, why should I like Tiger? Someone please make a case that I can accept.

And, in the interim, here's my case against Tiger in four particular points.

1. ARROGANCE. Golf is a game of class. It's a game where opponents play to top all the other competitors but, at the same time, realize that their common opponent is the course, NOT the other golfer. This is something that's been difficult for Tiger and his parents to understand. For example, comments by Tiger's mom, Tida, include how she believes that Tiger "owns" his opponents' minds. How he has gotten into their heads and, by so doing, has defeated them. Hmmm. Again, the opponent is the course and not the other golfer. So let's keep our minds and mind games, whether intentional or not, to ourselves. Maybe if Tiger could embrace this point and reflect this more often in his persona I would begin my first turn to Tiger-philia.

2. SOUR GRAPES. At this year's U.S. Open Tiger was interviewed about the fairness of Pebble Beach, as prepared by the U.S.G.A. Tiger's response was that the course was, unequivocally, unfair. Interestingly, Phil Mickelson was interviewed shortly after Tiger and the same question elicited a far better response from Phil. He noted that Pebble Beach was playing very hard but quickly noted that it was playing fair and that his difficulties were due to his own shortcomings as a player. Refreshingly bright! David Fay of the U.S.G.A. was asked about the two responses and appropriately applauded Mickelson's assessment of things and correctly labeled Tiger's pettiness as unacceptable. Sure there will be bad days and bad moods but sour grapes is something for which Tiger is famous. Nothing is ever his fault.

3. DELUSIONS. Tiger needs to stop with the "I've already completed the Grand Slam" stupidity. I've heard him say twice in press conferences — when asked whether the Slam is really a possibility — that "it's possible. In fact I've already done it." Tiger needs to realize that continually campaigning to have his comparatively puny "Tiger Slam" canonized as a true "Grand Slam" not only makes him look stupid, but appropriately magnifies Bobby Jones' preeminent 1930 accomplishment.

4. STEVE WILLIAMS. Admittedly, Williams is a separate individual. But, after all of the nonsense from Stevie (crude and stupid comments about Phil Mickelson, yelling at the gallery, breaking cameras, etc.), Tiger needs to give the krazy kiwi his walking papers. For Tiger to keep this psycho and to say very little in opposition to his gracelessness is a sorry reflection on Tiger's character.

I am sure that I could think of more, but these are sufficient for today's post. Notice that I didn't say anything about his personal indiscretions, as bad as those are. Frankly, on that score I tend toward Jack Nicklaus' assessment of things. While I adamantly disagree with Tiger's amoral lifestyle, we are talking golf here.

So, there it is! The gauntlet is thrown. I would sincerely love to bury the hatchet and be able to be, at least, a moderate Tiger fan. After all, he is one of the greatest golfers of all time. If someone out there happens to have a good argument that can help me, I'd sincerely welcome the exchange.

If not, HELAS!

RYDER-WHACKY PART II — WITH PROFOUND APOLOGIES TO LEWIS CARROLL!

by Doug McAllister

As promised, what follows is my second poetical installment regarding the 2010 U.S. Ryder Cup Team, the now completed roster and it's captain, Corey "The Bulldog" Pavin. Whether you agree with me or not, enjoy!

___________________

It’s nonsense! But after all it’s fine!
I’m not surprised it went this way!
That the BULLDOG’s bark became a whine.
That the TIGER brought the pup to bay!

Or was it that the pooch was bought,
That in the end, the thing was fixed?
That money talked, as we are often taught,
And by it’s charm the hope of fairness nixed?

But wait — Rymer and Roseforte
Each claimed the choices done just right!
But, as you’ve read my stuff beforte,
I think they’re both up in the night!

But Eldrick’s, bad as his nod was,
Was not the only flub today.
The youngster, all in orange fuzz,
Has no business going to the fray!

For Rickie doesn’t have the stuff!
He’s more a dandy — big hat toad!
In the end his play will prove just fluff,
And, mark me well, he’ll just implode!

So, boys and girls, the thing is done!
They’re off to Wales, that timid band!
I’ll be surprised, when race is run,
If they return with Cup in hand!

But it doesn’t matter, in the end.
“On the team or off” just doesn’t rate!
Golf is yours and mine, my dearest friend!
So, go out and Hit ‘em Long and Straight!

ONE LAST ATTEMPT AT RYDER CUP SANITY

by Doug McAllister

Interesting goings on at the Deutsche Bank Championship! What? You don't think so? How could Mop Top Charley Hoffman's victory NOT be interesting? Precision shots all day — the sort that everyone used to expect from you-know-who. A personal cool that almost brought an early winter to Bean Town. Most interesting to anyone with good eyes and a fraction of a brain!

Still, despite Hoffman's stellar play, the spotlight kept drifting elsewhere. Oh well! Things are as they are. So, let's dig in.

Tomorrow is the big day. Captain Pavin will at long last announce his final four pick for the United States' Fall Golf Sales Event...er...sorry...the United States' Ryder Cup Team. Got confused there for a minute. All that nonsense about money making.

The waiting is nearly over and here's hoping that we are all in for a big surprise. The media has been appropriately scripted and the headline typeset: TIGER MUST MAKE THE TEAM — OR ELSE! The doomsday sales machinery is in place and humming furiously! Yeah, yeah! I get it. Eldrick has to be there because he deserves it. Because he's number one in the world. Because without him the result will be a mini-recession in the world of golf!

Rubbish! Folks, let's get real here. We saw a performance today that is far more deserving right now than Eldrick's claims. Hoffman played better over the course of the last four tournament days than Eldrick did.

Oh, so your fine with Hoffman on board but don't think anyone else deserves to bump the Striped One out of the picture?

Let's talk about just a few more: Ryan Palmer, Zach Johnson, Ben Crane and J.B. Holmes are all currently ranked higher in the FedEx Cup standings and seem far more hungry for the opportunity than El(drick) Tigre! But what does that have to do with it? EVERYTHING! As I have tried to note too many times already, the Ryder Cup is to be won and not simply attended. It's primarily a golf competition and secondarily a moneymaking scheme! Can we all please agree upon those two rather straightforward points?

Finally, everyone seems to agree that Eldrick is in no shape to compete in the Ryder Cup but afraid to actually push for it. Yes, he seems to be making progress back but this is not a futures game. I hear a lot of individuals arguing that he will be ready come the start of the matches in October. Unfortunately — and I hope Pavin is honest, smart and courageous enough to see this — the decision has got be made NOW! And right now, like it or not, Eldrick is not — I repeat NOT — among the 12 best golfers that the USA has to choose from. Period!

So, get out there and
Hit 'em Long and Straight!

I'm betting that Eldrick is not quite able to do that yet!

DON'T MISS TOMORROW'S POST:
RYDER-WHACKY PART II

BOOK REVIEW: YOUR 15TH CLUB: THE INNER SECRET OF GREAT GOLF BY DR. BOB ROTELLA

by Doug McAllister

I first became acquainted with Bob Rotella, as many others did, through his book, GOLF IS NOT A GAME OF PERFECT. So well written, so straightforward and so applicable, PERFECT spoke to all of the mental concerns that I have had with my golf game.

So, naturally, it made perfect sense to get Rotella's newest book, YOUR 15TH CLUB: THE INNER SECRET TO GREAT GOLF, especially since Rotella had positioned this book as a companion volume to, PERFECT, the landmark work that so many had read and loved.

At first, 15TH CLUB seemed to be everything that I hoped it would be. Aside from a few sections where Rotella seems to get too enamored with his own psychology, the book seemed to flow and read just as well as PERFECT.

But, just when things seemed to reach the denouement promised in the title, namely revealing the SECRET TO GREAT GOLF, Rotella completely falls off the planet. Enter Padraig Harrington and Rotella's previously unknown position as President of the Padraig Harrington Fan Club! Two tedious, inexplicable chapters emerge wherein Rotella simply sings the praises of Paddy without really relating anything to the abandoned reader. Yes, the first of the chapters, titled "What I Learned from Padraig Harrington," seems to promise the reader a chance to learn some important mental tips from the Irish champion but then becomes Rotella's regurgitation of how Paddy played this tournament or that one.

But as I finished wading through the mess, the next chapter title seemed to offer some hope. Titled "Putting it All Together," this final chapter would surely get things back on track and, at long last, reveal the secret to great golf promised by the author. I couldn't have been more wrong. The final chapter was nothing more than Padraig Harrington - Part Deux!

Oh! One last thing. If you want to get the Yips, the neurological putting problem that plagues many of the game's best, simply read 15TH CLUB's Chapter 13: Nip the Yips. Nothing that I have ever read will put the wrong putting thoughts into your head more than this well-meant but surpassingly misguided chapter!

Stick with Rotella's excellent book, GOLF IS NOT A GAME OF PERFECT, and forget this one. It's a certainty that PERFECT will help you...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

RYDER-WHACKY PART I — WITH APOLOGIES TO LEWIS CARROLL!

by Doug McAllister

As this year's Ryder Cup process has become as weird as the adventures of Alice in Wonderland, I thought it only fitting today to borrow a snippet from the master of nonsense, Lewis Carroll, for today's post. Here's my golfing slant on Carroll's poem, Jabberwocky, renamed, appropriately:

Ryder-Whacky

It's Silly! How the Ryder goes,
As golfers vie to make the team!
It used to be that the Captain chose
The tour's best players -- the year's Golf Cream!

Beware the Ryder Cup, my friend!
For politics now rule the game!
Beware! Those chosen, in the end,
May be simply those who bring a name!

Corey took his pencil in his hand:
Long time he scribbled, long he thought --
"Who should I choose to join my band?
"Should Eldrick make the team of not?"

And, as he wrestled with the mess,
The pressure mounted, fierce and cold!
It came from members of the press!
And from Tim Finchem's desk, I'm told.

"Tiger has to be on this year's team!
"If he's not, it spells catastrophe!
"It matters not that his game might seem,
"As weak and awful as it can be!"

"For it matters little if we keep
"The Ryder Cup -- now you must know,
"It's the dollars that will surely creep
"Away, should Eldrick miss the show!"

So there it is! It's sad but true!
For Pavin's picks we'll have to wait.
So until Tuesday, it's best that you
Go out and Hit `em Long and Straight!

To Be Continued...

MORE CRAP ABOUT HOW ELDRICK "DESERVES" A RYDER CUP BERTH

by Doug McAllister

Well, things are heating up as America prepares its defense of the Ryder Cup. And, with the heat, comes the apparent irrationality!

Golf Central on The Golf Channel today. Brandel Chamblee and — my old pal — Charlie Rymer discussed the probable picks to be made next Tuesday by Captain Corey Pavin. And there it was, for all to see. Chamblee, discussing the current playing stats of Eldrick Tiger Woods, noted that, from the standpoint of winning, there was no way that Tiger should be on the team. Very quickly, he then noted that, because of economic considerations, Tiger would have to be on the team! Otherwise, he noted, the PGA would loose beaucoup bucks — "Tens of millions of dollars!" — as fans would flee this year's competition — and taking their wallets with them! — in droves. Rymer sat there, like a dazed duck, hardly believing that his colleague had, at least, had the courage to tell the truth (at first) about Eldrick. He then stupidly babbled something about how he believed Tiger would make the team and deserved to be there!

At this point, nothing surprises me. I have loved and followed golf under the apparently false premise that Golf, playing excellence and the game's history were the Big Deal! Silly me! I'll say it again, O.B. Keeler had it right when he lamented that money would destroy sports, generally, and golf, particularly!

Look at what we have here — and apologies for repeating myself. Eldrick supposedly deserves to be at the Ryder Cup because of his...er... freak value! Please! Golf used to be the only sport that was impervious to the graft and corruption that plagues all of the other games. Now, I am supposed to believe that the United States should jeopardize its chances of defending the cup because the greatest prima donna in the game's history demands to be there? Okay! Fine, here's what I propose: put Eldrick in a cage at the event and let people spend the day throwing rotten food at him. Dress him up as a Tiger so that an appropriate theme is achieved! Better yet, have a Dunk-the-Tiger dunking booth at the event. Let people throw baseballs at him and put him in the drink. Charge $500 a pop and televise the proceedings internationally. That should make millions. Which, after all, is the prime motivation. Right?! And, never mind the actual playing of Ryder Cup golf or televising it. That's all secondary!

Total nonsense!

Here's hoping that, somehow, Pavin bucks the supposed predictions, uses his head for something more than a hat rack and leaves Eldrick behind!!

Advice to Chamblee and Rymer: Go out and play a few rounds...of golf! Try to remember what this great game is all about. Try to remember why you got involved with it in the first place and, in the future, start speaking more of the truth and less of the ordure.

Oh...and one other thing, gentlemen...despite your current crooked views of the game, go out and try to...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

(I'll bet they can't!)

TAYLORMADE'S ROSSA CORZA GHOST: IT'S SPOOKY HOW GOOD THIS IS

by Doug McAllister

After viewing the video remarks of putting guru, Dave Stockton, and researching everything I could about Rossa's new CORZA GHOST PUTTER, I decided to take the leap and buy one. The Result? It's absolutely "SPOOKY" how good this is!

First, I admit I was skeptical that a white putter would make any difference at all on the green. It does! I tested it head-to-head against my much darker colored putter and I was absolutely amazed at the difference. Blown away! as Stockton put it! A far clearer view of the front line of the putter and its position next to the ball. Dramatically clearer.

Next, what about the three black sight lines on the top of the Corza? Remarkable! The slightest tip or twist of the putter head and you can clearly see whether the face is square, open or closed. In fact, I will go as far as to say that you shouldn't waste your time with and of the blade versions of the GHOST that are due out in stores soon. And I have always been dedicated blade putter aficionado — until now! In my view, three sight lines are better than the one you will apparently get with the "Core Classics" and Kia Ma blade versions.

In short, the mallet shaping of CORZA GHOST is the perfect format. Period! For example, I have seen photos of one of the blade versions of this putter that is to come out — different from the all white "Core Classics" version that is currently available at some outlets. Placing a round "bubble" on the back of a blade to apparently mimick the circle on the back of the Corza — even with three shorter sight lines — makes no sense to me.

Finally, I was astonished at how quietly solid the ROSSA CORZA GHOST is when making contact during the putting stroke — especially on long putts! More solid than any blade I have owned and even more solid than Odyssey's two-ball counterparts. I echo Stockton's praise for this putter.

Go out and try it for yourself. And, while you're at it...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!

THERE MAY BE MAGIC IN THAT 1978 PENNY!

by Doug McAllister

So by now you know me, right? I'm the guy who wants to look at Golf from a bigger (perhaps nuttier) perspective. Yes, there's all sorts of tabloid-like golf stories swirling in the media right now. That's fine. And there always will be. Yes, most of the golf blogs out there deal with them. Good, good! No, I am not a professional golfer who can help you with your slice, hook or with your putting. Probably fine too. Just golf-obsessed and willing to write about it.

So, let's proceed with today's post: Marking your ball.

Why this? Frankly, it's one of my favorite things about golf. Marking the ball is as fundamental as teeing it up. There was a time, you know, when it wasn't even permitted. In those days a Stymie — getting your ball in front of your opponents ball on the green and effectively blocking access to the hole — was the rule of the day and a time-honored strategy.

Moreover, there have been all sorts of controversies regarding marking the ball. One of the most preeminent came to the forefront during the 1999 Ryder Cup Matches at the Country Club in Brookline, Massachusetts. At that time Jarmo Sandelin — a Finnish born Swede with some interesting views on the game and on his golfing wardrobe, as well — had previously accused Mark O'Meara of improperly marking his ball. Sandelin went so far as to say that O'Meara had intentionally been improper in order to gain an advantage.

Say it isn't so!

The episode elicited an interesting response from O'Meara in which he referred to himself by his complete name: "Everyone who knows Mark O'Meara knows that improperly marking a golf ball to cheat is something Mark O'Meara just wouldn't do!" Wow! I guess the structure of that tirade might be because, as we all know, there is no 'I' in golf!

Ball markers vary tremendously. Some are free while some are expensively not! Some are as big as a house, having gigantic logos on them from this company or that one. Some are metal and some plastic. Some fit on the side of golf gloves as little pearl snaps. Some are magnetically attached to ball mark repair tools or the those swanky new magnetic areas on the brims of some golf hats (I'm a bit worried about those. Who's to say that the magnetic field so close to the brain might have adverse effects?!). Some are as ordinary as dirt while some are supposed to be...MAGICAL!

What about me? I always use a 1978 Lincoln penny to mark my ball. The significance of that year? It's the year that my brother-in-law literally forced me to start playing the game. So a 1978 penny is my marker.

Why a penny? I know that some like bigger coins — say a nickel or even a quarter — arguing that a larger coin is easier to see when lining up your put from the opposite side of the green. Okay. I recall, though, an article in which Golf Great Hale Irwin talked about marking ones ball "like the pros!" He then went on to say that pros use pennies because they are adequate and big enough to see without becoming an abstraction to other golfers. Good enough for me. Accordingly, I went out and began to collect all of the 1978 pennies that I could find.

Mind you, not just any coin from that year will do. I prefer circulated coins. There's a magic in a coin that's been circulated. Think of it! One of the coins that I have collected in recent days might have been in my pocket on that day at Cascade Golf Course, in Orem, Utah. I may have instinctively pulled it from my pocket and used it to mark my ball. After that, it may have traveled all over the place. It may have been used by Hale Irwin, himself, to mark his ball during one of his three U.S. Open victories. Or it may have been the coin that Billy Ray Brown threw, in dismay and anger, at a wayward rolling putt and was nearly penalized. Perhaps, seemingly losing its luck, it was pitched into the water hazard at Sawgrass' 17th hole — only to be seen and rescued by a diver, there to dredge balls that missed the famed Island Green! It may have then found its way to the change drawer of the cash register at Pebble Beach's pro shop. And then... Pretty magical stuff, eh? I think so.

Okay, so I'm either a little too sentimental or too weird or too something. So be it! I will continue to pull out of circulation every single 1978 penny that I can find! And, who knows, with all of the luck that each one is sure to emit...well...I might just be able to go out, one fine day, tee up my golf ball at each hole and...

Hit 'em Long and Straight!