The Open... And Beyond

The call came in around 2:45 on Saturday and interrupted what was supposed to be a relaxing day of watching golf on the couch. Six hours later I was sitting at a bar in Pinehurst, NC eagerly awaiting the following day when I would be a final round spectator at the 105th U.S. Open.
Below are some thoughts from my Sunday at Pinehurst No. 2:

- I've been to various rounds of the Kemper Open/Booz Allen Classic throughout the years, including a few times on Sundays. Back in 1997 I was fortunate enough to get tickets to the second round of the U.S. Open, which was played at nearby Congressional Country Club.
And while all those experiences were quite enjoyable, Sunday I discovered that nothing can compare to walking the course during the final round of a major championship.
Early in the morning, the tournament feels the same as any other. Watching professional golfers do their thing is always impressive, but without anything on the line, it is just that. When the leaders teed off, however, a tremendous buzz spread throughout the golf course.
The gallery converged on the first few holes, eyes were trained to the leaderboards standing near the greens and the roars that reverberated around Pinehurst generated an electricity I was amazed to feel at a golf tournament.
When Retief Goosen bogeyed #3 to fall back into a tie for first, gasps from the grandstands on that hole warned spectators at the 6th green that, suddenly, the tournament was up for grabs.
It was the first of many crowd reactions during the day that kept observers at other holes abreast of what was going on all over the course.
You always hear how "Tiger roars" are different from any other cheers you hear on the golf course, but until Sunday I didn't realize just how different they were. From any vantage point on the golf course, you can figure out what Tiger is doing just by listening to the crowds. A thunderous roar followed by applause means the world's #1 golfer hit a close approach. A smattering of gasps means he flew the bunker. A simple thunderous roar usually accompanies a par save. The "awwww" sound common on bad sitcoms means that Tiger just missed a putt... barely. And when there is a thunderous roar followed by more thunderous roars? Then Tiger just birdied #11 to get back within two shots of the lead.
Not content to stay in a single spot and watch each group pass through, my cousin and I tried to watch the leaders at as many holes as we could. We ended up seeing each of the final eight groups tee-off on #3, play the entire par-3 #6, approach and putt on #12 (which Campbell birdied) and tee-off on #13 and finish on #18. We also caught Tiger's stirring birdie at #15, but because of the mass of humanity following the world's #1 golfer, we weren't able to watch him Noonan putts at #16 and #17.
It was a tiring day, to be sure, especially with a still-recovering right foot. But every time I thought about sitting down and saving myself the agony, I realized that putting up with a few days of pain (still there) was worth it to watch an exciting finish to our country's oldest and most prestigious golf tournament.

- While walking the course early Sunday, I figured that the best place to watch the leaders tee-off would be on the par 4 3rd. Because it is a dogleg right, most players chose to hit iron and play a wedge into the green.
In between groups I was chatting with the marshal at the hole and he said Tiger had used driver on the hole in Monday's practice round, but hadn't gone back to it yet during the tournament.
There was some chatter among the gallery before Tiger's pairing walked to the tee about whether or not he would hit driver, but most agreed it was unlikely. So, when Tiger did indeed pull the big dog out of his bag Sunday, the simple action was met with a rousing ovation, which Tiger acknowledged by simply nodding his head in affirmation as if to say, "you better recognize". Easily the highlight of the day.

- Scott Van Pelt is huge.

- While the crowds seem to love him, many in the media despise Phil Mickelson. The words "fake", "phony" and two more that end with the letters "u-c-k-e-r" were heard often when those in the know discussed Lefty.

- After choking in the most important round of his life, nobody would have blamed golf journeyman Jason Gore if he went back to his hotel, emptied the mini-bar and drank himself into oblivion while cursing his missed opportunity at golfing immortality and, more importantly, stability. But the 818th ranked Gore, who had become a fan favorite over the weekend at Pinehurst, instead showed his appreciation for his newfound admirers and signed autographs for over 20 minutes after exiting the player's locker room.
A cynical person might say that Gore was soaking up the adoration before shrinking back into obscurity, but his appreciation seemed genuine as he signed for the small group of children waiting outside the player's parking lot almost 90 minutes after carding a woeful 84 playing in the last group of the U.S. Open.

- Tiger Woods' wife isn't as hot in person as you would imagine. Oh, don't get me wrong... she's still hot, but not Elisha Cuthbert hot.

I've gotta run to the doctor (thankfully not to my dentist, who will soon be retiring thanks to all the work I need done), so I'm going to cut this short for now. I'll try to post some more later about the Open, tomorrow's Game 7, ABC's lack of statistical updates and the NBA's new age-minimum (not limit - thanks Mark).
By the way, in case you haven't read it, check out the comments for last Friday's post. Some crazy Ted Kennedy supporter has his-or-her panties in a bunch because Teddy loves the sauce. It's been quite amusing to read, particularly with quotes like, "I don't feel strongly about Ted Kennedy, although he has been a longtime leader in support of the poor and working class and against war, so he at least has that in his favor. That is good for the quality of life of sports fans."
What the hell does that even mean? Listen, I don't feel strongly about Ted Kennedy either, I just guess the difference between you and me is I don't post comments on sports blogs when somebody makes a fairly obvious joke about Ted's well-documented (and bridge-accident inducing) drinking problem.
But, I'm a lover, not a fighter, so I want to squash this beef before it gets all 2pac-ish on us. Let me say that Ted Kennedy is a wonderful man who has championed the rights of children for decades, has represented the people of Massachusetts admirably in the Senate, once ran a four-minute mile, can name every single state capital and, contrary to popular belief, discovered the cure for polio.
Before I finish, let me ask: Why are you so defensive about Teddy's fondness for ingesting copious amounts of alcohol? Ease up bro (or bro-ette)! Babe Ruth liked booze and whores just like Ted Kennedy and he was the greatest baseball player ever!