Grandstanding

A slightly later than usual tee time allows a moment or two for my readers.  By now you've undoubtedly seen this, as Phil plays his second shot from the spectator pavilion:

That's a particularly fine example of Phil being Phil, being overly-aggressive on a short Par-4 and thereby making a five.

But it's also a perfect example of our Sir Nick Faldo.  Terry Gannon recognizes the opportunity, the ultimate man of the people wading in to play a shot from their midst, let the cameras and microphones capture this somewhat rare spectacle.  There are offers of a beer, suggestions as to the appropriate club and other fun soundbites, but we can't have that now, can we?

No, the viewer can't possibly understand the events unfolding on camera without the blinding insights of Sir Nick.  So he prattles on about Caddyshack (it's just a movie...how disillusioning!) and Tin Cup and....what, no other golf movies came to mind?  C'mon Nick, just give voice to whatever pops into your mind... there's no reason for a sports event to look like it's unscripted.  

I recently read an interview with his Sirness, and he noted that his greatest regret as relates to his broadcasting career was failing to give voice to his craziest instincts.  As he put it, it doesn't matter if you're dead wrong because no one will remember, but you might get one right.  If only... And Nick, we are paying attention and you've been right about as often as a stopped watch...

Contrast that with another announcer interview I saw recently, this with the great Dodger play-by-play announcer Vin Scully.  The latter spoke of his love of the roar of the crowd, and how he lets it tell as much of the story as possible.  Then again, if their roles were reversed, we wouldn't know that Caddyshack was just a movie...