Midweek Musings

Sorry about the scheduling misdirection, Dear Readers, it was all an honest mistake.  Our Westchester outing was postponed due to soggy conditions, but an invite for a return visit to Fairview this morning miraculously rendered your humble blogger all square.

More on Fairview to come when appropriate, but let's dive into a couple of items I've been meaning to discuss with you all.

Nurse Ratched, We Hardly Knew Ye - Shakespeare famously wrote of the traitorous Thane of Cawdor that, "Nothing in his life became him like the leaving of it."  As hard as it is for me to admit, as he prepares to exit stage left our Commissioner Ratched displayed those very traits for which I've prayed.  Go figure...

In his final Tour Championship presser he displayed more humanity than in the entirely of his reign, first with this:

Jimmy Kimmel's running "Mean Tweets" segment is one of the funnier bits on late-night

television. For those unfamiliar with the concept, the comedian has various celebrities read spiteful, malicious comments about themselves that the show's producers find on social media. For such a simple premise, it never fails to deliver. 

Tim Finchem, in perhaps his final appearance as PGA Tour commissioner at the Tour Championship, decided to get in on the act on Tuesday. While his time atop golf is viewed as a successful and impactful tenure, you likely won't hear about his comical demeanor (at least towards the public) when his career tributes start pouring in. Yet, his performance at East Lake was full of knee-slappers. 

It's not original, the height bit was way overplayed and the delivery lacked a certain spontaneity, but these are mere quibbles in the midst of a breakthrough.  In fact, it reminds of another of my favorite quotes, this one by Samuel Johnson on an unlikely subject.  "Sir, a woman's preaching is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all."  I'm just surprised that he recognizes the existence of humor in the world around him.

I also found this quote, making the case for Eldrick as GOAT, modestly redeeming:

“Well, he's the only living player to win 79 times, and only one player has ever won more. He's the only active player to have won 14 majors, and only one player has won more. I love Jack Nicklaus beyond belief, but I have to put Tiger down as probably the greatest player to ever play, and the way he did it and his domination at a time when you're bringing more and more good players along, is incredible. It lifted all boats,” Finchem said.

I know, the use of living and active is passing strange, and the loosest possible useage of the latter as well.  But it's the first I can remember of the Commish expressing an opinion on or appreciation of our game and the men that play it.  I'd prefer a commissioner that evidences a deep abiding love of the game, but you take what's on offer....

Hillview, A Eulogy - Joel Beall pens an emotional eulogy to two golf courses (and a third on a preemptive basis) that led him into our game:

My first such experience came at the demise of Hillview Golf Course. We called it

"Hillview National" as a nod to "Augusta National," although it was in the same manner as bald men are called "Curly." To hit the 11th fairway, you had to clear a net guarding No. 2's green. To the naked eye, it was hard to distinguish the short grass from the rough. Multiple par 4s were drivable. There was a par 3 where, thanks to a severe slope, you could only reach the putting surface by accident. Yes, Hillview was an eccentric joint. It also tapped into your creativity and fortitude, vital lessons to a fledgling golfer.

Hillview was an eclectic place, a panorama of the game. Guys in jean shorts and cut-off shirts would tee it up with businessmen. It boasted hordes of junior and elderly golfers, and men's leagues made it impossible to get a round in from 3 to 6 p.m. Outsiders would classify Hillview as a beginner's course, but its best players could wipe the floor against the top members from any neighboring country club. You could correlate this diversity to the surrounding community; the regulars swear it was the welcoming atmosphere that spoke to so many different walks of life.

That's pretty good stuff, but this is the money quote:

Hillview was everything the USGA's "Grow the Game" mission aspires to be.

What he said.  There's nothing wrong with the First Tee or the Drive, Chip & Putt, but the Hillview Nationals are far more important to the growth of our game than any top-down initiative.  The Hillviews of the world create actual golfers, the other we can argue about....

How do we save a Hillview?  Hey, I just ask the rhetorical questions around here...

TV Talk -  One issue that Finchem seems to have left for successor Jay Monahan is the status of its TV rights, as discussed by Pete Madden:

Is the PGA Tour changing channels? 

According to the Sports Business Journal, PGA Tour officials have met with executives from each of the four major networks over the last few weeks as the Tour considers whether to opt out of its current broadcast deals.

The Tour's contracts with NBC and CBS run through 2021, but they could exercise an opt-out clause that would put their rights on the market following the conclusion of the 2017-18 Tour season.

The short answer is no.... and the longer answer is still no.  The market for sports rights packages seems to be softening at the wrong tome for the Ponte Vedra Family.  Not only does it seem unliekly that it could boost the value of these contracts, but it's hard to envision who could take it from CBS and NBC.

And then there's this from a knowledgeable source:

Neal Pilson, the former president of CBS Sports, said it is "extremely unlikely" that the PGA Tour would leave NBC and CBS because of the unique way the Tour's sponsors subsidize coverage of its events to minimize risk to the networks. 

"The PGA Tour is the only major sports league that requires event sponsors to buy time on the covering network," Pilson said. "So the real question is whether the PGA Tour is going to ask its sponsors to pay more for a step down in the quality of the coverage. I don't think there are a lot of companies out there willing to get into golf for more money than is currently being paid."

Which might well explain why Tim left the issue in Jay's inbox.

The Necessary Reading List -  With the help of friend of the blog Mark W., I once put together a golf reading list for a young man that worked summers at Willow Ridge and attended my alma mater Tufts.  I don't have access to that list, but I was interested to see Josh Sens take a shot at such a list, though Josh demonstrates some strange sensibilities.

I'll credit Josh for including the two Mark Frost titles (The Greatest Game Ever Played and The Match), as it's hard to find more accessible works that convey the development of the game and its class divides.  Gratified that he included Mike Bamberger's To The Linksland, the second half of which is the book that Golf in the Kingdom should have been.  And, at least, in including the latter he acknowledged those of us that find it pretentious and impenetrable.

There are a number of titles that I've not read, but concede that they might well be worthy inclusions. But Leslie Nielson and especially John Daly should entail his banishment from polite society.

But the glaring omission is anything related to golf in the Kingdom of Fife.  Given then extent to which the spread of the game to America was guided by Scottish professionals and those steeped in the auld grey toon (think C.B. Macdonald), that's quite curious.  I'd proffer Alister MacKenzie's The Spirit of St. Andrews  and Kevin Cook's Tommy's Honor as suggestions, though others might differ.  But Long John over Old Tom....sheesh!

His Shot - Shack performs a vital public service in exhuming Guy Yocum's My Shot feature from a few years ago with broadcasting legend Vin Scully, who called a little golf in his life.  The whole thing is worth your time, but this about his first Masters seems as if from a  galaxy far, far away:

AH, THAT 1975 Masters. When Tom Weiskopf and Johnny Miller had putts on the last hole to tie Jack Nicklaus, I said at the time, "So it comes down to this..." and briefly outlined the scene as clearly as I could. At that point, I swiveled the microphone on my headset over my head, away from my mouth. I did that so I could resist the announcer's temptation to say something else. There really is nothing to say at that point. The silence as Tom and Johnny prepared to putt was profound. Thousands of people encircled 18, yet I could hear birds chirping in the trees. Not a sound from the patrons, and it was that silence that was the star. It conveyed all the tension, expectance and suspense. To me, there is nothing more magical in golf than the nothing sound of silence.

Paging Mr. Faldo to the red courtesy phone.... 

I liked this bit as well:

I MISS my friend Jim Murray. Jim was a great sportswriter and an avid golfer. He thought of Riviera as his cathedral, and golf as his religion. One day we were playing at Bel-Air. There's a bridge that spans a canyon on the 10th hole there. I look back, and Jim is fussing with his bag. He retrieves a ball and drops it into the canyon. I asked him what he's doing. "I'm appeasing the golf gods," he says.

Read it all, and you can thank me later.