Medinah Clubhouse

 I got to go to my second major championship, The 88th PGA Championship held at Medinah Country Club.  Who knows maybe someday I'll get to see a Masters and Open Championship.   I know that many people have been there and done that, but for a Polack from a bungalow in Chicago, it would be  dream trip to Augusta and Britain.

I went on Friday, before Tiger Woods once again kicked ass in a major.  Guess the swing changes and his dad's death are behind him.   The announcers should stop asking him about it.  They should also stop falling over their tongues in singing their praises of the guy.  Yeah, he is the best golfer playing right now.  And he probably will eventually surpass Jack Nicklaus and Sam Snead in majors and PGA victories.   Records are meant to be broken, but don't mean diddly.  Neither does the money earned.  I got to grow up listening to the Western Open on the radio and saw Hogan and Snead.  I got to see Arnie and Jack and Gary win their majors.  Now I get to see the best player on the planet.
So I went on Friday, cut day in a tournament, where big names and also-rans saw their dreams go into the water, the woods, the bunkers, but not in the hole quickly enough. 

Thursday and Friday at a tournament is definitely not the same as a weekend, especially when most of the crowds are following Tiger Woods and Phil Mickleson and Geoff Ogilvy.  The PGA traditionally puts the winners of the other three majors together the first two days.  So about 15000 people walked the 7500 plus yards of Medinah following three guys around and didn't get to see much of anything other than the backs of the heads of the ten deep sidelines of people.  I got to walk the yardage and saw other players make great shots, great recoveries, great putts and play their butts off far better than my meager game would ever allow me to do.

After David Duval  pulled his tee shot beyond the gallery ropes over a cart path and about a foot into the woods, he had no choice but to try to hit a little dribbler out to where he had some type of shot.  He hit it too far, though, and a distinct, "sit, sit, sit" was quickly followed by an even more distinct, "Shit! Fuck!"  When Miguel Jimenez hit his Srixon golf ball on the fifth hole into the rough, it looked as if he had no shot, and we were tempted to tell him that that is what he gets for playing a Srixon.  "Did you know, Miguel, that no player has ever one a major championship with a Srixon and a pony tail?"  We would have said that to him, but he did not look to pleased with the shot he had to make.  Spanish steam was rising off his neck.

With 15000 people following Tiger and Phil around those two days, nobody, it seemed, was paying much attention to the other players.  The crowd just moved along aimlessly, trying to catch of glimpse of the great player and the guy who could be great if he had just learned to take a two iron off the 18th tee at Wingfoot in the U.S. Open when a par is good enough and a bogey still gets a tie.  Yeah, Phil may be  anice guy and all that, but on the golf course he has rocks between his ears for that bonehead move.  I don't expect him to be in contention for another tournament let alone another major for the the rest of his career.  Anyway, the crowd always was thin before the threesome went through, swelled to ten deep when they were on a hole, and nearly disappated after they moved on.  Like lemmings following the leaders off a cliff. 

That allowed for more interaction with the players who seemed to appreciate the hangers on paying attention to their game and not the big name.  Like Chad Campbell.  He pulled a tee shot on the fifth holw about ten feet from where we were standing.  A crowd of about 20 people were watching Duval hit his dribbler.  My friend and I turned around and saw Campbell do the right thing with his shot, hit it under the trees about 175 yards to a spot in the fairway where he had an easy wedge to the par five green for a chance at a birdie, which he made.  Young players could learn a lot about how to play the game from watching guys like Campbell instead of go for broke bonehead players like Phil.    It was a great shot, the right shot for that moment, and my friend and I were the only ones close enough to see it.  Well, maybe some people across the fairway saw it, but probably not since anothe big name, Retief Goosen, was over there in the trap.  And even if somebody did see it, we two were only about feet away, so we let him know, "Nice shot Chad!"  He turned and saw that we were the only two around, and seemed to appreciate that we paid attention to what he was trying to do.  He saw that we were the only two guys around and seemed surprised, he nodded, smiled, and said thank you. 

We said nice shot to Jimenez, too, earlier.  He hit that stupid Srixon ball ponytail and all, and mad a great shot to the green, a high fade that allowed him to get his par.  But I think the Spanish steam was still rising even though he did say thanks. 

Luke Donald was on the practice green, chipping from short rough.  We were on the clubhouse veranda watching him.   He hit one to about  a foot of the cup.  Sank one.   Then he  shanked one.  I mean  really shanked it.  Straight right.  We had to laugh.  "Hell,  I could that!" I said.  Donald laughed, turned around and smiled.  Put his finger to his lips and whispered conpiritorially, "Sssssh!"  Don't ever say the word "shank" around a pro in a major is sorta like never saying "Macbeth" around an actor when he's performing the Scottish play.  Heck, don't ever say the word "shank" around any golfer as it invariably leads to somebody getting the shanks. 

It started to drizzle and mist a bit in late afternoon.  We started to head out toward the clubhouse, retracing our steps from the course.  The once  second hole had only a few stragglers watching players hit on to the par 3.  The crowd had been ten deep around the green and on the hillside ntil Tiger and Phil went by.  Now we could actually see the green and the long high tee shot of the players.  How those guys hit a 190 yard shot that high and that soft, I'll never know.  Well, okay, I do know.  They were hitting 5 or 6 irons over the water where I would be hitting a 3 iron on my good days and a 5 wood most of the time.  Some of them were hitting 7 irons on the hole.  Before we left we got to urge Jerry Kelly to get enough Ryder Cup points.  He needed to finish in the top ten, but didn't. 

Mike Weir hit a beautiful shot into the second that landed and stopped almost immediately about two feet from the cup.  It was easily the best shot we saw on a par three that day.  We got to the bridge leading back to the first hole, the clubhouse, and the busses back to the parking lot.  Weir came off the bridge went straight to the Porta potty.  Even the rich and famous have to shit and pee was an observation made by Donovan on and obscure song and album.  We stuck around a bit.  "Nice shot, Mike!" my friend said as Weir walked but.  Weir was at -2 at that point in the tournament and would finish 6th.  As he walked toward the green, I said, "Berk (my friend's name for short) here has you in the fantasy pool this week."  Weir just about fell over laughing.  I like to think the thought spurred Weir on to play better, make the cut, and do well on the weekend. 

A Clubhouse pass
Me and the guy who got me in.  No I am not being arrested and yes, Berk has arms.

***

I still do not understand or accept that the PGA and USGA do not allow fans to bring in cameras.  A baseball player stands sixty feet away from a guy throwing a hard round object at 95 mph with 50000 screaming fans, many of whom are drunk, and can concentrate on trying to hit the ball and make split second adjustments.  Why can't a pro golfer do the same?  Medinah is near O'Hare Airport.  Jets were flying overhead and players still hit.  Tiger Woods backed off his putt on the last hole twice on  because of some movement  in the crowd.   The announcer said, "Steve (Tiger's caddy) is taking names."  Gimme a break!  The guy is on the green in regulation with a five shot lead.  He could take six putts from where he was an still win by a stroke. You mean he had to concentrate that hard to do that?  Any idiot could putt those greens and take six to get in!  Pro golfers have become a pampered bunch of self righteous twits.  If everything isn't perfect they complain. 
 
***

Every time Tiger wins another major or tournament, talk invariably turns to who is the best of all time.  Such talk is fruitless.  No make it stupid.  Golf has changed more over the years of its existence than other major sports.  The football field is still 100 yards, still ten yards for first down.  Baseball is still a guy with stick trying to hit a 95 mph moving object (which despite what Sam Snead told Ted Williams is still the hardest thing to do in all sport), the bases are still 90 feet apart.  Basketball rims are still ten feet off the groud.  Yeah, there have been some variations in rules, dimensions, time, etc.  But by and large, with changes in equipment, golf has truly evolved more since the Scots were hitting rocks around pastures with shepherd's crooks. 

During the PGA tournament, they ran a poll asking viewers and cell phone users (odd since nobody can text message from a PGA tournament sicne they confiscate electronic devices)  to vote on who was better in their primes, Nicklaus, Hogan, or Woods.  I suspect that the vast majority of those taking the poll don't even know who Hogan was, never saw him play, and only know who Nicklaus is because his name is in front of Tiger as the one with more professional majors.  Few people who claim that Tiger is the best of all time really know, nor care much about, the history of the game.  They claim to, but not really.

We will never know how many wins Bobby Jones would have had if he had devoted a career to playing golf.  Or how Tiger would play with hickory shafts and featheries.  It's always a matter of speculation if Hogan would have won the Grand Slam if he had been able to get back for the PGA after the Open Championship in 1953.  Can we honestly say Tiger could recover from the same type of injuries that Hogan did and play his best golf in constant pain, taped up with a back brace?  Will he have as many Open titles as Tom Morris?  Win four PGA's in a row like Hagen?  The simple truth is that we will never know.  He is certainly the best player on the planet right now.  Jack Nicklaus was far better than anybody in his prime.  Hogan, Snead, Nelson, Hagen, Jones, and Morris all were the best of their respective eras.  So is Tiger right now. 

It remains to be seen if anyone as capable will come along during his career.  Hogan played against Nelson and Snead.  Nicklaus played against Palmer and Player.  Woods has yet to meet his match over a consistent basis.  It might be the likes of Luke Donald or Geoff Olgilvy, or someone just coming up.  Again, we simply do not and cannot know. 

Woods will probably break the records held by the greats of the past.  So what?  That is why they are called records, made to be broken and surpassed.  Someday someone will come along and break whatever record Woods may set, and people in the future will argue then as they do now about who was the best ever.  People still say that Ruth was the greatest ball player ever, though his record has been surpassed by Aaron and Bonds.  Bobby Orr is still the best defense man in hockey history.  Lou Gherig is still the iron horse despite Cal Ripken.  Pete Rose and Ty Cobb have the most hits but they are still jerks.  Pele is still revered in soccer.  The point is simply that great players will remain great players regardless of the sport or the era they play in.  Golf is no different and neither is Woods.

***

Next piece I might mull over and write about is how the game is being ruined.

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