Midweek Musings - Wasted Edition

We've got your Pebble leftovers, your Saudi intrigues and even a couple of Phoenix bits for you today.  But, more importantly, does anyone know when the Winter Olympics begin?  What?  Really?  Has anyone told NBC?

Pebble Beach - Cliff Notes Edition - Dylan Dethier's Monday Finish column is a regular read, offering personal observations and other insights from Tour events with the benefit of 24-hours of reflection.  You might ne laboring under the impression that everything worth noting about Jordan v. Cliff was said by Saturday evening, but Dylan has five substantive aspects to address:

1. The run

The best way I can make sense of The Cliff Shot is that Jordan Spieth’s instincts are optimized to make the lowest golf score possible; that acts as an override even when something like “his life”

is under threat. I think that’s why, post-impact, Spieth’s survival instincts finally kicked back in. Re-watch the video and you’ll see that after contact he literally runs away from the edge of the cliff.

Either Spieth snapped suddenly back to reality of he feared the entire cliff might collapse under the magical strike of his 7-iron, like Gandalf taking out the bridge (and the giant fire-monster Balrog) in Lord of the Rings. Makes sense; Spieth’s 7-iron is about as close to a wizard’s staff as you’ll get on Tour. I hope that reference lands with even 10% of you. Either way, let’s move on quickly.

Or, yanno, the Porta-potties  were back towards the tee....

I didn't catch this bit, but to me it's evidence of the declining standards of the day:

2. The twirl

Speaking of instincts: As he ran to safety, Spieth couldn’t help but give that iron a little twirl, sliding it down his hands even as he retreated. The twirl is just in his DNA at this point.

The shot went long left, hardly of the qualify requires for the cocky club twirl.  I guess Jordan wants to be the Hideki of the club twirl.  

But there's another shot I noted on Monday, noting its eerie resemblance to one of Xander's:

For those with short memories, the X-man is still insisting that he "flushed" his tee shot at No. 16 at The Masters, the one that easily got within 25-yards of carrying the water...

But this always amuses me because, as you may have noticed, Messrs.. Spieth and Greller are a tad deliberative in pulling clubs. So, you discuss the curvature of the earth and sun-spot activity and their effects on relative humidity, then pull the wrong damn club. Unlike Xander, though, Jordan at least seems to have gotten within one of the correct club.

Hey, Sean Zak, you could have at least linked to my post:

Why Jordan Spieth’s ‘perfect swing’ bogey echoed another famous miss

Think back to Masters Sunday and Xander Schauffele’s ill-fated tee shot at the 16th. With just

three holes left, Schaeffele faced 181 yards to the hole, and probably about a 165-yard carry. It was a 184-yard shot, in Schauffele’s mind. He thought the wind was down and off the left and so he pulled 8-iron, just like Spieth. And just like Spieth, Schauffele’s shot struck the ground one yard shy of the putting surface.

The result? Schauffele’s tee shot rolled into the water, and his tournament chances sunk with it. He walked off the 16th with a triple-bogey 6.

While there’s no arguing the situations were different, the shots were mirror images. Even Schauffele’s response afterward was particularly Spiethian.

“I hit it perfect,” he said immediately to caddie Austin Kaiser, which he repeated again to reporters after the round. “I hit a perfect 8-iron.”

This is about as funny as anything I've seen in golf lately, mostly because Xander's shot wasn't remotely close to the target, especially when you remember the Sunday pin on No. 16.  Yanno, the one that you don't have to shoot at because the slope to the right will feed it to the pin.  he was 20-25yards short of where he needed it to be, notwithstanding the "flushiness" of the shot.

But I have a suggestion for Sean's next investigative piece, one that might familiarize him with the psychology of the Touring professional.  How about a deep dive into the tendency to tamp down imaginary spike marks after missing short putts, notwithstanding that precious few players still wear metal spikes and for the last three years they've been allowed to tamp down spike marks before they putt.  That inability to admit mistake was certainly what I was going for, how about you, Sean?

Dylan has another interesting bit about Pebble's underrated sixth hole, which the boys have been playing their own way for some time now:

No. 6 at Pebble Beach is an awe-inspiring par-5 with plenty of risk down the right-hand side off the tee. But much of that risk can be avoided by merely aiming left of everything and taking your chances near the cart path that runs down the left side of the hole, as shown in the screenshot below. If you’re particularly lucky you might even scamper down the path itself for a few bonus yards, leaving just a mid-iron approach from an appealing angle. Brandon Hagy, the furthest red dot, had just 184 yards left, while Pat Perez had just 190.

The clear takeaway from the red dots (birdies) blue dots (pars) and black dots (bogeys) is that you want no part of those fairway bunkers. If you’re going left, go left! You just might get rewarded.

For the record, this is not a Bryson story, as he was off cashing an appearance fee check drawn on the First National Bank of Jihad.  But I presume that the fans around that furthest red dot were yelling "Let's Go Brandon!", just because.

One last bit on Jordan, whose mouth never stops moving.  I totally get that folks tire of the drama, myself sometimes included.  Dylan Dethier in the item linked above takes us back to the last time Jordan opened his pie hole on the 8th hole at Pebble and it wasn't pretty.  But the best part is that when Jordan saw the video, he himself was his own harshest critic.

Shack links to this interview with something called ASAP Sports with which I'm unfamiliar.  There's much that's worth your time, including his thoughts on Tom Hoge, the guy that whipped him.  Geoff excerpts this, which I quite agree is worth reading:

Q. You spoke on Tuesday in your opening press conference about loving this course loving this tournament. Can you just reflect on the week a little bit and how it went for you?

JORDAN SPIETH: Yeah, I mean, I can't tell you how many times maybe had half a dozen times I got to tell Jake, Hey, we didn't even have to pay to play Pebble Beach this weekend. And the weather we had, I mean it's just, you don't want to leave. Like we we've been here since Saturday and as excited as I am for the next couple events, I mean I could stay here for months and just play this golf course, it's just -- all three of them were so much fun this week. They were in such great condition, they were firmer, faster, weather permitted. So it's always amazing it's one of our favorite places in the world on the Monterey Peninsula.

I totally get that this is their profession and their livelihood, so it's hard to not be deadly serious about it all.  But it's almost never that we get to hear players speak of the game and the places they get to play as anything but the ultimate grind.  There's a bit of joy in Jordan, as if he actually understands how lucky a bastard he is, and that's why I continue to like the guy.

Saudi Stuff - Look, I'm only human, but the confluence of Phil, the noxious Saudis and the Shirtless Shark is comedy gold.  Those folks should start a band or something....

Mike Bamberger focuses his considerable analytical skills on our hero with this:

What Phil Mickelson is overlooking in his beef with the PGA Tour

That's easy, the same thing he always overlooks... the other 7.9 billion souls on the planet.

Oddly, Mike starts the column with Spieth's and then segues to this guy:

And then, in the far corner of the ring, there was the Saudi International, the Asian Tour’s equivalent of the Players Championship, played at the Royal Greens Golf and Country Club, in the King Abdullah Economic City, in Saudi Arabia. HV3 made a bomb on the last to beat Bubba Watson by a shot. That made for great TV (on Golf Channel, in the U.S.), and it was wonderful for Varner, who has not won yet on the PGA Tour. Varner is popular wherever he goes.

But his win was bad news, in the corporate sense, for the PGA Tour and its commissioner, Jay Monahan. The Saudi event is, in effect, a Greg Norman event. Norman is the CEO of a group called LIV Golf and the likely future commissioner of a planned global golf league that will seek to compete with the PGA Tour. For now, what’s good for Norman is bad for Monahan. Maybe in time that will change.

Among the players who have never been close to making a Ryder Cup team, Varner is probably the most popular right now — with fans, with reporters and with his fellow players. He’s unpretentious, he’s loose in his conversation, he’s one of the few Black players on Tour, and he knows what it’s all about, to play golf for money. If he comes home and says the Saudis treated him well and he can’t wait to go back — for more lucrative golfing fun — that will carry a lot of weight with his brethren.

Is that right?  I don't actually see that as moving the needle one way or the other unless, of course, Varner vocally supports or signs with the Saudis. 

It seems to me that Mike has missed the larger point, one that I seem to be a lone voice on.  Prior to the Saudi event, Harold Three-Sticks and Bubba Watson were the 99th and 105th ranked players in the world, destined to be excluded from the Super League concept (FWIW, they've moved up to 44th and 60th, respectively, based upon those results).  However improbable, it turns out that Brooks has an actual point, that golf isn't just about 48 guys.

It's easy to miss this in the body of the piece, but he seems to understand his subject:

Mickelson, at 51, talks better than he ever has, and that’s saying something. He’s a plus-5 talker, or better. He wants what millions of people want: more money, more status, more power.

In 2014, after a U.S. Ryder Cup defeat in Scotland, he single-handedly spearheaded a movement that took Ryder Cup power away from the PGA of America and gave it to the game’s star players, including former Ryder Cup captains. He clearly thinks that the PGA Tour “takes” too much and that the players, the star players, in particular, don’t get enough. He refers to the PGA Tour as “they.”

I'm going a bit long with the excerpts, but Mike is always interesting, even when he's wrong.  Here he gets at the capture issue:

You could say it’s misguided, because the PGA Tour, bloated bureaucracy and all, is the sum total of the interests of the Tour’s players. Its managers are paid to weigh various constituencies, but in the end the Tour exists to serve the players, and to keep its tax-exempt status while doing so. You need some high-paid talent to do that.

This is the irony of the moment. The golfers look like conformists, in how they dress and what they say, but for the most part they are cowboys playing an individual sport. Nobody, really, tells a Tour player what to do, except to play by the rules.

The fellas playing MLB, in the NFL and in the NBA, have an appealing level of individuality, but they are union workers playing team sports. They have, really, a completely different mentality.

But those guys don't get to sell their hats and shirts....  By the way, while Phil thinks he deserves a piece of that $20 billion vault of NFTs, am I safe in assuming that he'll be prepared to kick all his endorsement money back into the kitty?

But see if you can get through this without laughing:

If Mickelson really wants to affect change the most effective thing he could do is get 150 or so Tour players to stage a sit-down strike on the eve of, say, the Waste Management Phoenix Open.

Then get that group to agree on media rights, purse distribution, governance structure and a million other things.

Good luck with that.

There has been some talk about Phil getting Tony Romo money to talk golf on TV. He’d be good at that, but it would bore him. It’s easier to imagine him as the commissioner of a golf league. Which one is hard to say just now.

Actually, Mike, Commish of a golf league is the last place I can imagine the guy, because that would involve responsibilities as the cost for assuming power.  Phil doesn't do accountability...

Shane Ryan has a cautionary tail for us all, though there's a couple of face-plants within.  but, first the fun bits:

Let's start with a question: Can you name the current men's world heavyweight boxing champion?

The best answer I could muster was Wladimir Klitschko, a man who retired from the sport five

years ago. Turns out, there are several correct answers. The WBA recognizes Oleksandr Usyk as a "super champion" and Trevor Bryan as a "regular champion." The WBC lists Tyson Fury, with Dillian Whyte as "interim champion." The IBF and WBO recognize Usyk. And Ring Magazine goes for Fury. Usyk and Fury are both undefeated, but depending on the satisfaction of various clauses, delays caused by mandatory defenses and the outcome of difficult negotiations, they may never even fight (and if it does happen, it may happen long after everyone stopped caring). More recently, Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Manny Pacquiao were the two best boxers on the planet for many years, and due to the split divisions in boxing and disagreements between the two camps, they never fought until it was about seven years too late, and Pacquiao's star had already faded.

The truth is that a schism in any major sport is a nightmarish scenario for that sport's popularity.

Fortunately boxing never had to deal with "obnoxious greed"....

On that last topic, it's not much of a debate. Boxing and Indy-Car racing show what can happen when a sport is divided against itself. In fact, golf itself proves the theory in the opposite manner—the game is stronger than ever now because unlike at certain points in the recent past, we get to see the world's best players, be they from the U.S., Europe, Asia and beyond, compete against each other on a regular basis, even outside the majors. We never have to wonder, for instance, how Ernie Els might have fared against Tiger Woods, or how Rory McIlroy would stack up against Brooks Koepka. But imagine a scenario in which 10 of the 20 best golfers in the world join the Super Golf League. Imagine then that a union of the PGA Tour, DP World Tour, Augusta National, the USGA, the R&A and the PGA of America limits—if no prohibits—them from playing in the majors, or undoubtedly the Players Championship and the BMW PGA Championship. What would happen to the prestige of those events? The answer is it would dive precipitously; there is far less value of winning a major championship when 10 of the best players in the world can't compete, and fans understand that.

For sure, but under that scenario the Saudis will have paid hundreds of millions of dollars for ten players.  For what?

 But this is where he really jumps the rails:

Say what you will about the World Golf Championships, but they did bring together top players in a more consistent way than happened before their creation in the late 1990s. Same with the FedEx Cup.

Well, I will say what I will, and I will not require your permission...

But have any of those WGCs and FedEx Cups actually been remotely interesting?  Have they added to the game?  The key phrase is that "Say what you will", which tacitly admits they've been dreadful and a profound bore.  

Shane doesn't have much in the way of answers, but he does get our blood boiling:

A divide introduces fragility. It inhibits the development of superstars, diminishes the status of top-tier events and costs money through decreased viewership and ad revenue. The situation in golf is particularly perilous, because unlike other failed schisms—see the USFL in football or the ABA in basketball—the backers behind the Super Golf League don't seem particularly concerned with a return on investment, if their initial offers to players are any indication. This may be a classic example of "sportswashing"—running a sports enterprise to improve the image of a government—and if the people behind are content to blow millions of dollars for whatever PR boost they think it gives them, then they may be just as content to hand out hundreds of millions of dollars with no return. In other words, it might not collapse when it should.

What happens then? Does golf become like F1 racing, with only a limited number of players able to compete at the highest levels? Does American domestic golf become a glorified minor league? Does money drain out of development systems and tours, such that the growth of the last few decades sputters into stagnancy, like American men's tennis? We don't know, exactly, but the point is that everything is on the table. History tells us that schisms in sports are disastrous, and while we can't plot out what it would do to golf, it's not hard to predict the general trajectory. Ask boxing or ask Indy-Car: These are dangerous times, and no sport is so strong that a schism can't knock it out cold.

We understand, Shane.  But the problems of golf don't amount to a hill of beans when the larger issue is simply that Phil needs to get paid.

Doug Ferguson actually calls Phil's bluff:

Phil Mickelson decided to chastise the PGA Tour for not paying him what he deserves by accusing the league that made him rich and famous of “obnoxious greed.”

There’s a better way to go about it. For a six-time major champion who for 30 years has amazed his audience with a golf club, his biggest bravado now involves a pen.

Just be the first player to enlist.

The Saudi-backed “Super Golf League” remains more rumor than reality. Greg Norman is in charge, and while his C-suite is filling up, he still hasn’t announced a roster of players to take part in what the Shark has referred to only as “additive new opportunities.”

But is that what Mickelson really wants?

Phil just wants, make that needs, to be paid.... 

“The tour only understands leverage,” Mickelson told Digest. “And now the players are getting some of that. So things are changing and will continue to change. I just hope the leverage doesn’t go away. If it does, we’ll be back to the status quo.”

A number of players privately have portrayed Mickelson as a chief recruiter. The unknown is whether he wants them to join the league and disrupt the tour, or if he needs as many of them as possible to increase leverage.

Even the players who have indicated no interest in Norman or the Saudis — and it’s a larger, more notable group than those who are tempted — have suggested competition is healthy and the players ultimately will benefit from it.

Haven’t they already?

Yes, although the change is really in how they get paid, which I think is a recipe for disaster.  New rights contracts have created a enhanced pool of money, it's just now a slush fund for Jay to ensure loyalty, as opposed to enhancing purses.

Mickelson is misguided in his argument of owning his media rights. The tour structure is similar to other major sports leagues. Networks would have no reason to invest so heavily if they had to compete with star athletes using footage at will for commercial gain.

Lefty also hit on the idea that leverage would allow players to “get in a more equitable position” with other major sports. That’s a great idea except that golf isn’t like other sports. The NBA starts with training camp in October and goes for seven months without any weeks off.

Mickelson is not at the Phoenix Open this week. He was headed to Montana to ski. Setting a schedule is what golf affords, not to mention the ability to compete at a high level for 25 years — or in his case, win a major championship at age 50 — all while accruing an enormous pension.

Wrong about everything, but never in doubt, that's our Phil.  But it doesn't mean that the rest of us need to believe his self-interested BS.

Cancel Culture Comes To Golf (Yet Again) - Hank Haney, call your office:

Mark Lye, a former PGA Tour winner turned golf commentator, said Sunday he was fired from

his role as a SiriusXM PGA Tour Radio host over comments he made a day earlier about the WNBA.

Lye’s comments came on Saturday’s episode of The Scorecard, during a discussion of the LPGA. A Twitter user captured and shared 59 seconds of the conversation:

“You know, the LPGA Tour to me is a completely different tour than it was 10 years ago,” Lye said. “… You couldn’t pay me to watch. You really couldn’t. Because I just, I couldn’t relate at all. It’s kind of like, you know, if you’re a basketball player — and I’m not trashing anybody; please, don’t take it the wrong way — but I saw some highlights of ladies’ basketball. Man, is there a gun in the house? I’ll shoot myself than watch that.

Lye tried to walk it back and apologize within seconds, but good luck luck with that.

The story amuses and angers me in equal parts.  It amuses me for a couple of reasons, the first being that I can sort of follow his synapses misfiring, in which he realizes that criticizing the LPGA is a death sentence and his panic leads him into dangerous territory in which he clings to a life preserver, not sensing his peril (or ta least unable to find a truly safe harbor).

The second reason it amuses me?  Well, let me tell you a story....  A few years ago we were given N.Y. Liberty tickets and attended a game and... well, your humble blogger found it unwatchable.  As you'll know, I watch women's golf and have been known to watch the distaff version of tennis, as well as certain Olympic sports.  But basketball is a sport known for the athleticism of its players, and that was sorely missing from the women's game.  But, as with Hank Haney, truth is not going to be an affirmative defense with the wok mob, is it?

But we're now at a pint where any Karen can get you fired, so what's the percentage in saying anything interesting?  That's the anger part, in case you didn't guess.  Not enough to criticize something stupid that's said, we have to prove our woke bona fides by getting the man sent to a reeducation camp.

But there is a silver lining....  They're going to destroy women's sports in short order through their woke crusade to include transgender athletes so, while it's a minefield, it won't be a subject we have to discuss for much longer.

On that cheerful note I'll kiss you goodbye and catch you down the road.