04_13_08 :: Masters Sunday - what can I buy to make me feel like I was there?
Fa•nat•ic - marked by excessive enthusiasm and often intense uncritical devotion

Websites, shirts, artwork, tournament memorabilia, autographed items, pens, note pads, ball markers, fake green jackets, hats, plush toys, folding chairs, and even golf clubs with the tournament logo. All pieces of a collection created by someone infatuated with the Masters tournament. Are any of these worth money? Maybe some will eventually sell on eBay or at an estate sale – presumably by my wife quite soon after I make my departure from this life. She calls it "clutter" and would just as soon rid herself of this menagerie of shit as soon as possible. I call it.... well, I'm not entirely sure what I call it, but I find myself having to constantly defend my memorabilia collecting habits whenever the topic comes up – again, usually instigated by my lovely wife during polite conversation with friends and family. "He has an autographed picture of Peter Falk - I mean seriously". One of her favorite "go-tos" is "He asked me once if he could buy a used golf flag from Augusta National.... for $3,000."

I'm sure some or most of you collect things from either your favorite sports team, favorite movie(s), travel destination, animal(s), salt & pepper shakers, lunch-boxes, or whatever..... and I'm sure most or all of the collectors among us acquire things under the radar from our significant other's scrutiny—and until your latest masterpiece is unveiled, amidst all the pomp & circumstance a one man band can muster, on the wall of your home office, mantown, or game room, your significant other will share in your delight for all of the 3 minutes it takes you to over joyously explain the item's significance, how you acquired it, and it's potential future value. Then the questions and accusations will more than likely suck up all of the confetti you spent an hour cutting by hand the night before. 10 minutes later you ask yourself "Why in the hell did I say anything." - you shouldn't.... you never should. Memorabilia Collector 101. The only people worth explaining anything to are your buds, your drinking pals, your amigos. Unless your wife, or partner or whatever the hell you're doing with your life these days, is also a collector, you never say a damned word about anything that goes on with your hoarding business.

What is it about a logo'd, rectangular piece of nylon that gets me all excited? Is it a matter of owning a piece of history or is it simply the pleasure gained from displaying objects that I hold dear to my heart? Is it the conversation that these pieces generate when other people see them for the first time? Is it bragging rights? or some sort of delivery vehicle to show a psychotic level of commitment to something that means nothing to 60% of the US population? Whatever it is, it really doesn't matter to me..... there's nothing quite like the look on someone's face when they walk into my office and see the two green bleacher seats I purchased last year when Fenway Park renovated the entire outfield section...... and then they sit down in seat #11 from row #35 and look around my office at all the other treats hanging from my walls and say "Is that Peter Falk, I love that guy..... Columbo is a great show."

-JM

03_28_08 ::The end is near..... again
Dennis Rodman, Michael Vick, Ricky Williams, Len Bias, Mike Tyson, Pacman Jones, the list goes on and on. Athletes that have made poor decisions that have directly impacted their career in a negative manner..... ending it, sending it into a downward spiral, and even resulting in death. We can now add John Daly to this list. Hey, listen, I love the guy to death. He's always had this "hometown, regular guy makes it big on tour" persona. The first player to really showcase thunderous drives, but also have hands as soft as a 19 year old's boobies. We all remember Daly when he burst onto the scene in 1991 - Ultimate Cinderella story - chosen as the last alternate, he went on to win the PGA Championship with an average driving distance of 303 yards. Now, he's fat, smokes Marlboros as if they tasted like baby-backs, has a failed reality show in his back pocket, no desire to achieve anything other than his "daily" intake of 13 Miller Lites, his level of focus on the course has deteriorated to such a degree that I'm sure he questions his decision to even show up. As I write this the second round of the Zurich Classic is probably just underway outside of New Orleans. Daly is there on a sponsor exemption - his first round score: +1. Not bad considering his average first round score these days is +4 (when he is able to make his tee time). Hey, David Duval shot a +5 (poor guy). That's another blog.

I'd love to keep bashing the guy, it's so damned easy...... but I must move on to the "but, but, but" part.

But, even after all of his endless antics, lack of desire, inability to retain paid instruction, and a destructive personality that challenges that of Jim Morrison, the guy seems to live in a soft spot in every golf fan's heart. Perception is reality and reality for every person reading this is taking an 11 on a golf hole every once in a while. Reality for some of us is abruptly sitting down on the 15th tee box and telling your playing partners, sitting next to you, that you think you may have had too much to drink to actually play the remaining holes. Reality is we all rely on that one low score we shot 8 years ago, you know the once in a lifetime 18 hole total you shot out of your tree, to distinguish ourselves from our seemingly impossible 20 handicaps. "It must just be a consistency thing - I shot a 79 a few years ago on this same course, I can't seem to figure out how to get back to that swing pattern - must be consistency.... or course management.... whatever". The mind trick behind this thought process is natural." I did this once and I can do it again at any time and any place - therefore, I must be that good". So that one low score becomes our fallback comment when we send our first tee shot laser-beaming into the pond 16 yards to the left of the tee box. The great thing about John Daly is you never hear him saying: "dude, I won the PGA and the British Open.... my game is undergoing some serious adjustments - it'll come back". He never lays down excuses and always offers a candid, seemingly honest reply to any reporters criticisms or off-color question(s). Even after his most recent blunders.... Butch Harmon dumping him and Daly missing his tee time at the Bay Hill Pro-Am, subsequently being disqualified from the tourney, he was extremely apologetic and offered sincere words to both Butch and Arnold.

The saddest part of this whole story is the fact that his behavior is enabled by the fans, by the tournament directors offering him exemptions, and of course this leads to a degree of "two wrongs make a right". We all know that one must hit rock-bottom before any clear self retrospective thinking can truly occur. Daly's rock bottom is there, he sees it, we see it, but it will seemingly never be reached due to this enabling. Until he pays his game the respect it deserves, adds the word "practice" to his party-like vocabulary, and somehow rediscovers a passion for winning, he will never see the turf of another major championship, will always rely on exemptions, and will be looked at as a marketing pawn, a ticket-selling, chain-smoking, belly-hanging-out as he walks down the fairway, circus act.

"What a shame. So much talent," Woods said.

Imagine him battling Woods through Amen Corner on Sunday at the Masters instead of battling traffic leaving the Hooters on Washington Road.

He had a chance to be a legend of golf. Instead, he'll never be more than just a character of the game.

-JM (with notes from Tim Dahlberg)

John Daly's Empire
http://www.johndaly.com
http://www.johndalywines.com
http://www.johndalysrestaurantandbar.com

I’m leaving Gary Player, the other bitter South African, out of this entry though he deserves a swift kick in the ass. No, I’m speaking of another short, inferior, shit-bag…. Rory Sabbatini. You know, it’s funny, when he and his wife made such a big stink about slow play on the course, “The Ben Crane Incident” in 2005, when Rory hit out of turn and played the remainder of the 17th hole and the entire 18th hole by himself, (Booz Allen Classic 2005), I thought he was a bit of a rebel and sort of sided with him. I mean c’mon, who can forget the endless waggle of Sergio Garcia at the US open at Bethpage? It was great if you wanted to go grab a cold beer from the fridge without missing any action, but sitting there watching him sway & twitch for 30 seconds straight was mind-numbing. Watching at home we would never know how fast or how slow any golfer plays unless Johnny Miller mentions something…. So actually learning that Ben Crane or Tom Watson or Boo Weekly takes an extended period of time to play a round of golf, doesn’t really effect us. Sure we all can relate to the unforgettable Sunday round we had last summer waiting for the Q-School wanna-be foursome in front of us walking around their putts like they were staring at an unconscious stripper covered in butter….. but relating that trauma to what we see on TV is impossible.

At The Players Championship in May Rory-the-great said he thought Woods was "more beatable than ever" after playing with him in Charlotte…. Which, at the time, seemed kind of strange. Let’s face it, Tiger hasn’t been filling his trophy shelf at the same rate he was 2 years ago, but the guy is still winning tournaments and the last time I checked, he was over 6,000 points ahead of anyone in the FedEx points standings. Tiger’s Major tournament black hole is still there, it’s just spinning a bit slower than normal. To be honest, the way his game is in 2007, the PGA Championship should be an easy win to add to his Majors collection.

Snory and Tiger go waaay back paired together in final rounds. 1996 NCAA finals in Chattanooga… Rory shot 75 to Tiger’s 80 and won their match…. Tiger went on to win the NCAA crown that year. Rory won the battle, but not the war. Fast-forward to this year’s Wachovia Championship (May 3rd-6th)—paired together in the final round, Tiger buried Sabbatini on Sunday, beating him by 5 strokes and sending him into third place. Rory must have been on acid during this entire tournament….. after getting his ass kicked, he said Tiger was “beatable” (see comments above). Hey Dad, I can’t see real well, didn’t you just get your nuts kicked? Anyway, so after his comments hit the pavement, a mini storm erupted in the press: “Rory digs on Tiger”, etc. Tiger takes the high road, as he always does, and responds with “Rory who? Should I know this name?”. Which brings us to this past Sunday (Aug. 5th). Here we go again. Rory and Tiger, final pairing, Sunday. Perfect time and perfect place for the little guy to finally show who’s boss. After all, what are the odds you’re in the final group on Sunday, much less paired with Tiger? I’m sure Rory spent Saturday evening psyching himself up in front of the mirror with a picture of Napoleon taped to the glass…. Chanting South African apartheid limericks or some shit. His wife Amy probably didn’t help the matter since she’s his biggest attitude problem promoter….. she probably had some big ritual setup with a bunch of tiger headcovers hanging in their hotel room (poor Frank), and more than likely hand-crafted one of her masterpiece t-shirts reading something to the effect of “Tiger who? Should I know this name?”……

"Somebody has to knock him down, you know?" Sabbatini said. "There's always going to be that point you get to where somebody beats you. So maybe (Sunday) is my day. That's the way I'm going to look at it."

The sun rises, Rory skips breakfast because he’s so nervous his ears are ringing and he’s blown through an entire soft-box of Huggies wipes…. He shoots +4, loses by 8 strokes, verbally assaults a fan, and has now cemented himself as the biggest, foot-in-mouth, meathead in golf. I’ll tell you one thing, I’m anxious to read about his altercation and even more anxious to see how he plays this weekend…… I can guarantee you one thing, he’s not smart enough to keep his mouth shut……. So things could get interesting.

-JM Sahr