Friday, February 11, 2022

Late-Week Lethargy

Don't worry my pretty, we'll get to the Saudi stuff in a bit.  As you'll have guessed, Phil won't look any better after the rebuttal but, then again, no one will come out looking very good.  But, as therapy, how about we talk about the actual golf.

By The Time I Get to WM - Stupid is as stupid does, though of course that could be applied to this blog as well.  But your humble bloggers' first reaction was, "What have they done to the Wasted?"  Because they're now calling it the WM, which most certainly did no favors to my ears:

The Waste Management Phoenix Open is now officially the WM Phoenix Open after title sponsor Waste Management rebrands to WM to reflect the company's focus on continuous innovation and sustainable solutions for the company and its customers.

THUD!  It's just not an aurally-pleasing sound and, perhaps more importantly, doesn't mean anything to the listener.  GE was always GE (I mean, before they trashed the company) and IBM was always IBM, but Waste Management was always, yanno, Waste Management.   

A few things caught my eye, including this guy that we've been waiting on:

Sahith Theegala leads

Only darkness could slow Theegala, his round stopped on the 8th hole (he started on the back nine) due to a lack of daylight. Before that, he birdied his first hole, birdied 13-16 and added two more on the front nine for a seven-under total and a one-stroke lead. K.H. Lee was in second after a six-under 65, and four golfers, including defending champion Brooks Koepka, shot 66s.

“Obviously really good day,” Theegala said. “I got off to a pretty hot start. I had a couple — it was nice to see one go in on the first hole — that always kind of sets the tone for the day. But the big key for me like always in my game is just putting my driver in the fairway, and I was able to do that early and often. I think the wind kind of laid down for us a little bit at the end there. So was able to take advantage of some opportunities, and, yeah, super happy with the way I started.

“Obviously I got a little chippy at the end — I started hitting my driver a little squirrely at the end — so this is a welcome stop, honestly.”

We occasionally have cause to criticize sponsor's exemptions, but this seems to be what they're meant for, regardless of how the next 72-hours plays out.

Though, with perfect weather, it's a little strange that they couldn't get the field through the full eighteen.  Not a big deal, as he'll turn right around and start his second round.  The issue is more what it might do to any leaders who don't finish their second rounds, not to mention guys that might have to stick around if the cut line isn't finalized.

I had quite a bit of fun watching this guy:

A pretty good lede as well:

The left breast of a PGA Tour player’s shirt is prime real estate for sponsors. Not quite as pricey
as the hat, but the good players are all TV all the time, which means their chests are on TV all the time. Rickie Fowler has Puma’s logo on his. Jon Rahm has Blue Yonder. The third member of their threesome at the WM Phoenix Open on Thursday had Calusa Pines on his.

Calusa Pines is not a brand at all. It’s a highly exclusive club on the gulf coast of Florida, ranked No. 74 on Golf Digest’s latest 100 Greatest. The club is not paying Hayden Buckley to wear its logo. He’s not a member there. But he loves the course, and he had a clothing deal fall through in December, so why not?

Buckley, as his shirt will tell you, looked a bit out of place at TPC Scottsdale alongside the World No. 1 and the man known around these parts as Big (You Know What) Rick. It makes sense, then, that he was never supposed to be there.

As I'm copying-and-pasting, I'm relieved that Colin Montgomerie is long retired now we apparently speak of professional golfers' breasts....   Coulda gone with Phil as well, as Employee No. 2 remains convinced that he's had reduction surgery... though that's not important now.

But then that last 'graph jumped out at me.  Hadn't heard that one, though apparently the man embraces it (or at least is amusing about it):

By statue I'm required to state that he'll be here all week, folks, though with Rickie these days that's not to be taken for granted. 

Back to the deer caught in thee headlights, who had a tough day as expected, but finished strong.  First, at you-know-where:

The course was blocked off all Wednesday for the pro-am, which Buckley wasn’t in, which meant he was flying blind on the front. He managed an even-par 35 but played his next six holes in three over before stepping into the 16th-hole cauldron. Rahm played first. Buckley was next. He nearly hooped it and hearted the six-footer for birdie. A dream debut.

Rickie stepped over to offer his knuckles after the kid's tee ball on No. 16, which I think bears mentioning.   But this is journalistic malpractice:

Buckley bogeyed the 17th but finished with a delicious wedge from 126 yards to two feet. As the Arizona sun set rapidly—play was halted at 6:23 local time, with leader Sahith Theegala still on the course with two holes to finish—Buckley couldn’t stop smiling despite a +2 by his name on the leaderboard. (Rahm scored a four-under 67 and Fowler shot 71.)

Egad, that  "wedge" was the shot of the day.  His ball just trickled into the bunker, leaving him on severe downslope.  His shot landed well right of the pin, but somehow took a 90 degree turn right and fed to the pin, and the Golf Channel cameras caught a delightfully sheepish reaction shot, easily the best moment of the broadcast.

Back to Rickie, who had quite the adventurous day:

TPC Scottsdale has been good to Rickie Fowler, yielding the most recent of his five career PGA Tour titles in 2019. But on Thursday, the desert track treated him like an unwanted stranger. Perhaps, because, well, he couldn't keep out of the desert.

Rickie's rough front nine to begin the 2022 Waste Management Phoenix Open had a bit of everything. A bit of everything bad, that is. There was a penalty, a left-handed swing, and some missed short putts, which all added up to a three-over 38 as he put himself well behind the early pace.

Let's start with the penalty, which came on the par-4 fifth hole when Fowler tried to clear some rocks near a cactus and accidentally moved his ball. Fowler called a rules official over and was assessed a one-shot penalty.

Rickie did hang in and mafe a fun eagle on Number 17.  Oh, what the heck, worth an embed:

I'm unaware of anyone out there that doesn't like the man, so it's hard to watch.  But the Blogger's Guild has strict requirements of its members, so please understand that I am merely complying with the relevant statutes.  But are those folks still calling him Big D**k Rick aware of shrinkage?

Phoenix Redux - Let me pair a couple of short items that may or may not belong together.  It just seems to this observer that we're trying to ruin everything enjoyable in this world, and this is but an itty bitty example.

Mike Purkey has an item up at First Read of five gimmicks he wants immediately banned from golf, and this is your gold medalist:

1. 16th at TPC Scottsdale

The Thunderbirds, the civic organization that runs the Waste Management Phoenix Open, have spent the last 30-plus years trying much too hard to convince us the spectacle at the par-3 16th is
as important to the game as Amen Corner, a notion that divides golf almost as much as red vs. blue splits the nation.

It started as some rowdy fun for students at nearby Arizona State University, particularly during Saturday’s third round. Fueled by free-flowing beer and the desert sun, the young people sang players’ college fight songs when they reached the tee, chanted insults and treated tee shots with a chorus of cheers for a good one and boos for missing the green. Tiger Woods made an ace in 1997 and it rained plastic cups for a good couple of minutes.

Then someone had an idea crowned with dollar signs and the first 11 skyboxes were built at the 16th in 1992. Now the hole has been enclosed like a stadium and there are 278 skyboxes and suites that hold most of the 17,000 well-heeled fans who visit the 16th. (Only 3,700 general admission seats are available.)

As a result, the atmosphere is much more subdued at the 16th because the kids who created it have been largely shut out of seats in favor of the skyboxers. What was a novelty devolved into a nuisance and now it’s just another boring corporate hospitality tent.

Money has ruined many a novel concept and the 16th is another victim. Besides, it’s become as outdated as a BlackBerry. Time to trade it in for an upgrade.

Is that first 'graph world class journalistic projection, or what?  And you though I was a curmudgeon?

It's not my favorite week of the year, but Purkey's reaction is passing strange in the context of the looming Saudi threat.   The PGA Tour is vulnerable mostly because it has promoted an endless schedule of dreary events, becoming the "If This is Tuesday, It Must Be Belgium" of the sports world.

This event is an obvious exception, with actual enthusiasm and off-the-charts attendance (even if the crowd number estimate rival the Steel Dossier for accuracy), and they've done that on Super Bowl weekend.  So, sure this event has to die, right?

My only concern with this event was that others would try to copy it, which mercifully doesn't seem to have happened.  But we can't have people having fun can we?  So, here's just one little way in which we just can't leave things alone (for the record, I noticed this yesterday and figured he was just saving it for Saturday:

Jon Rahm, a proud Arizona State alum, has worn a No. 42 Pat Tillman jersey on the 16th hole a few times in the past during the third round of the WM Phoenix Open.

Thursday, when asked about doing it again this week, he said no then adjusted his answer to “probably not.”

“Probably not going to come out in a long time,” he said after his opening-round 4-under 67. “Not for lack of enthusiasm or willingness, more for sponsor conflict than anything else. Last time I checked, Travis Mathew doesn’t make football jerseys, right? So can’t really be endorsing somebody else.”

Can we just shoot everyone?

I think this is ridiculously short-sighted on the Travis/Callaway folks' part, as this is the kind of little gesture that roots the event in a specific place.  But they can't make up a jersey with a logo?  Or is the real issue that they don't want us honoring Pat Tillman?  

God forbid anyone have a fun moment.... But remind me to pass on that Travis Matthews clothing, so well played guys (and I'll add the Cally equipment, though those Mack Daddy wedges aren't going anywhere).

Phil, The Rebuttal - It's got its own issues, but the Evil Empire has responded to Phil's whining:

Mickelson’s remarks were fodder for a week’s worth of chatter about Tour policies, player rights and Mickelson’s rumored interest in the Saudi-backed, Greg Norman-led Super League. They marked his most direct criticism of the Tour yet, lobbed conveniently from the would-be rival tour’s home turf.

One other talking point has also surfaced: the accuracy, or lack thereof, of Mickelson’s gripes.

In conversations with GOLF.com, PGA Tour executives painted a far different picture of the economics of golf’s largest professional tour, characterizing it as a highly successful, multi-billion-dollar business model built around its media-rights deals — and with constituents who’ve largely been content with that structure.

Phil doesn't do accuracy.  I still remember his bold-faced lie at Gleneagles about not having any input into Watson's decisions, whereas it all went pear-shaped for the very reason that he got his way... But, in addition to accuracy, he also doesn't do responsibility...

Phil had some comments on a Gary Williams podcast that you may not have seen, as I hadn't:

There undoubtedly is a lot of money in the Tour’s coffers that goes directly to players: more than
$800 million per year, according to a memo shared by the Tour. That figure, according to the same records, represents 55 percent of the Tour’s more than $1.5 billion in revenues — a percentage that is on par with other professional sports leagues, and much more than the figure Mickelson referenced on Gary Williams’ “5 Clubs” podcast in September.

“It’s a difficult situation on the PGA Tour relative to other sports, because in football, baseball, basketball, they have roughly 55 percent of their revenues going to the players,” Mickelson told Williams. “They have great representation, and when they have aggrievements, they go to a certain person. On the PGA Tour, we have 26 percent of the revenue going to the players, and when we have aggrievements, we go to the commissioner, who says, ‘Ah, I don’t really want to pay you anymore, I’m good.'”

While there’s room to quibble with the Tour’s calculations — more than $100 million in player earnings are credited to endorsement deals through the Tour’s official marketing partners, in which the Tour’s direct involvement is hard to ascertain — it’s unclear from where Mickelson derived his 26 percent figure.

Phil's relationship with the truth is best understood as transactional.  Phil couldn't give a phig what percentage goes to the players, it's all about what goes to Phil.

I have no use for the Tour's morbidly obese bureaucracy, which is absolutely fair game for critics.  But this man just wants to get paid, so I've basically tuned out his frequency.

Of course, this was always the biggest, or at least the most obvious, whopper Phil told:

Tour critics have also honed in on exclusivity. Tour players are independent contractors and not employees of the organization, as is the case in most other sports leagues. As such, they are required to sign a waiver each year granting their exclusive, individual rights to the Tour and its media partners. As Mickelson rightfully pointed out at the Saudi International, the Tour charges a fee for those who wish to stage a golf telecast outside of the Tour’s media partners, as was the case with The Match. But, the Tour confirmed, Turner Sports paid the $1 million rights fee, not Mickelson himself, as he alleged. It’s even possible Mickelson profited from that rights fee, a Tour source said, because more than half of such fees are added to the revenue pool that the Tour redistributes to players. The same would be true for the Tour’s new Netflix series or any other media-rights deal.

Yeah, he just couldn't resist inferring that the million came from his joint account with Amy, whereas we all know that Phil doesn't go into pocket, apparently even to pay his own gambling debts.

I don't think the Tour's PR flacks acquitted themselves well with this response:

All of this leads, naturally, to the $20 billion question: Is there any way the Tour’s media assets are worth as much as Mickelson estimated?

“I wish they were,” a Tour executive said with a laugh. “No, they aren’t. That’s just not accurate.”

Tour sources weren’t even sure where Mickelson came up with the $20 billion number, or which “assets” he meant. If he was referring to the Tour’s media archives, one source said, it’s true that some money is generated from licensing, but “that number certainly doesn’t start with a ‘B’.”

Mickelson might not like it, but these are the terms of doing business with the Tour, as they have been for the quarter-century over which he has pocketed $94.5 million in Tour earnings. But, hey, if he has any ideas on turning media rights into a $20 billion business, the Tour is all ears.

“Whatever gets generated goes to the players, the same way all other media rights do,” the executive said. “If we could make $20 billion on it, we would, believe me. But no one’s figured out how to do that exactly just yet.”

It seems to me they've taken the bait from this old joke:

Man In Bar: Would you sleep with me for $1 million?

Woman: Sure.

Man: Would you go upstairs with me for $100?

Woman: What do you think I am?

Man: We've established that.  Now we're just haggling over the price.

The point isn't, or shouldn't be, what they're worth.  The obvious rebuttal are that every sport is so organized and that any revenue generated goes to the players.

 There's one obvious rebuttal point screaming to be made, and Geoff has it for us:

Golf.com’s James Colgan spoke to multiple PGA Tour executives who took issue with Phil Mickelson’s “obnoxious greed” remarks from that liberal democracy, Saudi Arabia. But at least he signed his name to his opinions even if they suggest he’s only about the money at this point.

A rebuttal was surely warranted given some obvious fibs and exaggerations by Mickelson. Yet not finding one Tour executive willingly going on the record highlights how much the organization is all bluff and no backbone.

Just like giving players waivers to play in Saudi Arabia with almost no meaningful strings, rebutting anonymously only says to the world: Phil was wrong but not wrong enough to sign our names to it.

Yeah, we noticed the profiles in courage.  I have a modicum of sympathy, as no one wants their name attached to calling  a Tour member a congenital liar.  But, it's much more powerful if they're openly rebutting Phil's deceits, unless there's a reason they prefer not to do so.... which triggers its own doubts.

On a different track, John Hawkins thinks Jay has no worries, supported by this unflattering comparison:

The media, meanwhile, has deftly played the role of Chicken Little in reporting what very little news there is, as if the sky will be falling any day now. For all the innuendo, there’s no sign of a

crescendo. One thing we do know: almost 40 years have passed since an upstart faction attempted to stage an upheaval of a professional sports empire.

Remember the USFL? Summer football lasted three seasons (1983-85) before vanishing into the thick August air. Desperate for attention and survival, it sued the NFL on antitrust charges and was awarded $1 in damages. One dollar, as in 20 nickels, not nearly enough to buy the padlock and chain that would shut down the league’s New York headquarters.

The similarities between the two coups are striking. Like the USFL, which had Donald Trump as its marquee mouthpiece, the Saudis latched on to Greg Norman, whose responsibilities as the new Asian Tour commissioner are somewhat obvious — put the SGL on the map and make it stick. Both enterprises took on a rather daunting task: topple a monolithic American institution that was operating at the height of its powers.

Amusing, if only because Hershel Walker is in the news these days.  otherwise, the relevance of a team sport with its athletes under contracts, especially the all-powerful NFL, seems tenuous.

John has a lengthy analysis that doesn't seem to go anywhere, notwithstanding that I basically agree with his conclusion:

With all that in mind, it’s extremely difficult to envision even a modest exodus from a Tour carried to prominence by the brilliance of former commissioner Deane Beman, then ushered to the land of colossal paydays by Tiger Woods, then maintained to great effect under the watch of Monahan. The players owe it to themselves to listen to any lucrative offer. Many of them surely are intrigued by such staggering numbers and the idea of getting paid to shoot a meaningless pile of 75s.

The Super Golf League amounts to little more than leverage for an exclusive group of men already blessed with pocketfuls of fortune and fame, and sooner rather than later, that will become indisputably clear. As for the few rebels who might decide to take the risk? Good luck, fellas. You’re going to need it.

Have you told Phil?  No need, he's probably just in it for the leverage anyway....

Have a great weekend and we'll pick up these threads on Monday.

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