For years Tiger Woods has been the favorite. The favorite to win tournaments and majors.. but what about heavy weight bouts?
Well we may just find out.
Tiger Vs. Steve has been brewing now since the sudden announcement of the duo's parting ways. Like most heavy weight fights, there is trash talk but surprisingly (or maybe not so much) Stevie has done most of the talking thus far. First there was the threat of the tell all book depicting the intricacies of Tiger Woods' life both on and off the course. Then there were the comments about loyalty, trust, and friendship. But now we are seeing something very rare.. caddie interviews gone wrong.
Recently Adam Scott won the Bridgestone Invitational, he played a fantastic four rounds of golf putting on a clinic for other golfers in the field. One of those other golfers was none other than.. Tiger.
Tiger chose this tournament to come back for several reasons:
1.) He has won there 7 times
2.) There is no cut (so he cant be embarrassed again)
and 3.) It's one week before the last major of the year, one he has won 4 times.. the PGA.
When Sunday afternoon at Firestone came around however, it wasn't Tiger in the spotlight. It wasn't Tiger giving the on-green-interview with David Feherety.. it wasn't even Adam Scott.. it was....... Steve Williams?
That's right, Steve Williams got the post round interview, and oh what an interview it was. Not only did he not mention Adam Scott at any point, he claimed this win.. with Adam.. at Firestone, was his "most satisfying victory ever".
Wow
Forget 13 Major Championships, forget some of the most UNforgettable golf ever played, and forget being on the bag for arguably the best player in HISTORY. Guess that was all just plain compared to Adam Scott winning a "tune-up" tournament in what some are calling a "dire attempt at a comeback".
Tiger has since responded to Stevie's statements by saying "Those are Steve's thoughts, his emotions and his choice to say what he wants to say". But here's my question. When is enough enough? When do these comments eat into Tiger's subconscious to the point where Tiger fires back?
Maybe he will, maybe he wont. Tigers can lay dormant for a long time
But remember..
It's just a matter of time until they pounce.
Until next time,
Hit 'em straight.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
From roar to meow and is it monsoon season?
What once was one of the loudest noises in all of sports (yeah I'm including NASCAR for arguments sake) seems to be much lower on the decibel meter now-a-days.
I am of course talking about John Daly's Pants.. wait.. no
Tiger Woods.. yeah that's what I meant.
See I'm forgetting he even plays golf now. If the one year hiatus wasn't enough of an absence we now hear stories of injuries, pain, strains and other thorns in his paw (yes I know it was a lion but just go with it). Now, Tiger claims that his knee has bothered him ever since his 1997 Masters victory where he won by, and I'm quoting Bubba Watson, "47 strokes or something", but how are we to believe that? Cause if he played that well then with a "hurt" knee, you can take a baseball bat to mine, I mean maybe that's the swing change I need right?
Probably not, but I digress..
Tiger has recently said "Aggravating my injury is very disappointing,.. I'll do whatever is necessary to play in the U.S. Open, and I'm hopeful I can be there to compete."
You know as well as I do he'll be lucky to break 80 once he stripes one off the first tee and "aggravates" everything again, and by everything I of course mean his knee and achilles, and possibly his ego. I really don't think he can take another opening 42.
So has Tiger's roar whimpered down to a drown out meow? Nah, not yet. Every swing change of his has come with a few years of "Tiger Slump" and even though he's aging I'm not convinced hes out of the race for Jack's record quite yet. But then again, I'm no psychic.
Rain Rain Go AWAY!
So apparently, without knowing, everyone and everything near the Island Green has up and moved to Seattle, or the Panantal in rainy season. I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of the rain, and not the "oh it's ok I can golf in this rain" rain; I mean the "GET IN THE HOUSE AND DUCK FOR COVER" rain.
Seriously, rain, tornadoes.. yeah yeah that guy from Caddy Shack did it but I think we can all agree he was, as they say, clinically insane.
But there is light at the end of the tunnel! This weekend is shaping up to be gorgeous so grab your clubs, grab some friends and come out to Westminster's Island Green for some practice (you know you need it). Then I guess after you pay us a visit you can go enjoy a round of golf.. if you must.
Until next time,
Hit 'em straight.
I am of course talking about John Daly's Pants.. wait.. no
Tiger Woods.. yeah that's what I meant.
See I'm forgetting he even plays golf now. If the one year hiatus wasn't enough of an absence we now hear stories of injuries, pain, strains and other thorns in his paw (yes I know it was a lion but just go with it). Now, Tiger claims that his knee has bothered him ever since his 1997 Masters victory where he won by, and I'm quoting Bubba Watson, "47 strokes or something", but how are we to believe that? Cause if he played that well then with a "hurt" knee, you can take a baseball bat to mine, I mean maybe that's the swing change I need right?
Probably not, but I digress..
Tiger has recently said "Aggravating my injury is very disappointing,.. I'll do whatever is necessary to play in the U.S. Open, and I'm hopeful I can be there to compete."
You know as well as I do he'll be lucky to break 80 once he stripes one off the first tee and "aggravates" everything again, and by everything I of course mean his knee and achilles, and possibly his ego. I really don't think he can take another opening 42.
So has Tiger's roar whimpered down to a drown out meow? Nah, not yet. Every swing change of his has come with a few years of "Tiger Slump" and even though he's aging I'm not convinced hes out of the race for Jack's record quite yet. But then again, I'm no psychic.
Rain Rain Go AWAY!
So apparently, without knowing, everyone and everything near the Island Green has up and moved to Seattle, or the Panantal in rainy season. I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of the rain, and not the "oh it's ok I can golf in this rain" rain; I mean the "GET IN THE HOUSE AND DUCK FOR COVER" rain.
Seriously, rain, tornadoes.. yeah yeah that guy from Caddy Shack did it but I think we can all agree he was, as they say, clinically insane.
But there is light at the end of the tunnel! This weekend is shaping up to be gorgeous so grab your clubs, grab some friends and come out to Westminster's Island Green for some practice (you know you need it). Then I guess after you pay us a visit you can go enjoy a round of golf.. if you must.
Until next time,
Hit 'em straight.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
In One Ear... Out The Other
There he is.. the all seeing, all knowing, the utterly invincible figure standing before you. The sun draping over his shoulders, almost heavenly in his appearance.. who is this man?
He is your PGA Certified Instructor
The man that knows how to turn your shanks into birdies, your hooks into heavenly draws and your slice into a power fade you had once only heard of on TV.
So the question begs asking... Why, why in the name of Old Tom Morris wont you LISTEN TO HIM!?!?
I mean really, you're paying this man to stare at your disheveled swing and try to turn it into something that even slightly resembles what the touring pros do on television (Basically asking him to try an carve Michelangelo's David out of a wad of string cheese) and You're. Not. Listening.
I digress.
You do listen, but only while he's standing there. While he is standing there you are the spitting image of the 2000 Tiger Woods, a young Jack Nicklaus even. You can hit draws, fades, stingers (which.. no you cant because Tiger is the only person on this earth who can hit a stinger and we're not even sure he knows how he does it) with ferocious accuracy.
But then a strange phenomenon occurs.
As you're writing your check, or pulling bills out of your wallet, you are doing something else.. Unconsciously, amongst those bills or that check, you are returning all of your learned knowledge to your teacher. Once that money exchanges hands, the last hour of your life is wiped blank from your memory as if Will Smith from MIB is standing in front of you with that memory-erasing-flasher-thingy (yes that's the technical term).
You go home with the utmost confidence only to have it shattered upon your return to the range. Your thoughts fall from "this is great I cant do anything wrong!" to "what in gods name happened, this feels nothing like my lesson and I feel even worse now than before!"
So we start to go insane (which is defined as repeating the same action over and over and expecting a different result....... sound familiar? Yeah I thought so).
This is the part where I would love to give you a magic answer as to how to fix this frustrating phenomenon. But.. like you.. I cant remember a darn thing my instructor told me. Instead I am left with a vague memory of the swing that once was.
There is, however, a light at the end of the tunnel.
If we combine all the useless information we knew before the lesson, and the tiny, tiny, tiny tidbits that we retained, and hack balls for hours (..or days or weeks) we can eventually mend the two into a harmony. No, we wont be 2000 Tiger or even an older Jack but we'll be a slightly better version of ourselves (that was the point anyway was it not?)
Even though we choose to ignore our instructor, we will go back, seeking that feeling of all-powerful-ness we achieved during our last lesson and they will ruin us once more only so we can rise again and become stronger, better players than we were before.
I leave you with my personal definition of Golf:
Golf: Perpetual insanity fueled by brief plateaus of faux knowledge.
Hopefully this explains why "Golf" is a four letter word, why every time we swing the club we get/have a "stroke" and why we are all.. just a little bit.. Insane.
Until next time,
Hit 'em straight.
He is your PGA Certified Instructor
The man that knows how to turn your shanks into birdies, your hooks into heavenly draws and your slice into a power fade you had once only heard of on TV.
So the question begs asking... Why, why in the name of Old Tom Morris wont you LISTEN TO HIM!?!?
I mean really, you're paying this man to stare at your disheveled swing and try to turn it into something that even slightly resembles what the touring pros do on television (Basically asking him to try an carve Michelangelo's David out of a wad of string cheese) and You're. Not. Listening.
I digress.
You do listen, but only while he's standing there. While he is standing there you are the spitting image of the 2000 Tiger Woods, a young Jack Nicklaus even. You can hit draws, fades, stingers (which.. no you cant because Tiger is the only person on this earth who can hit a stinger and we're not even sure he knows how he does it) with ferocious accuracy.
But then a strange phenomenon occurs.
As you're writing your check, or pulling bills out of your wallet, you are doing something else.. Unconsciously, amongst those bills or that check, you are returning all of your learned knowledge to your teacher. Once that money exchanges hands, the last hour of your life is wiped blank from your memory as if Will Smith from MIB is standing in front of you with that memory-erasing-flasher-thingy (yes that's the technical term).
You go home with the utmost confidence only to have it shattered upon your return to the range. Your thoughts fall from "this is great I cant do anything wrong!" to "what in gods name happened, this feels nothing like my lesson and I feel even worse now than before!"
So we start to go insane (which is defined as repeating the same action over and over and expecting a different result....... sound familiar? Yeah I thought so).
This is the part where I would love to give you a magic answer as to how to fix this frustrating phenomenon. But.. like you.. I cant remember a darn thing my instructor told me. Instead I am left with a vague memory of the swing that once was.
There is, however, a light at the end of the tunnel.
If we combine all the useless information we knew before the lesson, and the tiny, tiny, tiny tidbits that we retained, and hack balls for hours (..or days or weeks) we can eventually mend the two into a harmony. No, we wont be 2000 Tiger or even an older Jack but we'll be a slightly better version of ourselves (that was the point anyway was it not?)
Even though we choose to ignore our instructor, we will go back, seeking that feeling of all-powerful-ness we achieved during our last lesson and they will ruin us once more only so we can rise again and become stronger, better players than we were before.
I leave you with my personal definition of Golf:
Golf: Perpetual insanity fueled by brief plateaus of faux knowledge.
Hopefully this explains why "Golf" is a four letter word, why every time we swing the club we get/have a "stroke" and why we are all.. just a little bit.. Insane.
Until next time,
Hit 'em straight.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Its Spring! And.. It's Raining
Just last Sunday we all witnessed a South African named Charl Schwartzel win the Masters. This event reminded all of us that, hey, golf can be fun! So what did we do? We strolled out to the garage, dusted off the old clubs and had visions of ourselves taking a step on the course (for, lets be honest, the first time since last September) and shooting in the 60's with smiles on our faces!
Well isn't that just a pleasant dream.
Matter of fact is we need to hit the range first... hard. Take a stroll out to Westminster Island Green (yes, yes, shameless promotion) on a bright and sunny day and shake off all the old rust.
Easier said than done.. am I right?
So we start swinging.. and swinging.. and swinging, and eventually you start to fall from cloud 9 back to reality. The reality that isn't filled with birdies, eagles, and albatrosses (for all of you seriously delusional people out there), but rather with pulls, pushes, that pull hook that almost broke a window off the 18th last fall, and well.. everything else imaginable.
Thank you Murphy's Law
But this is a good thing.
The constant twinging on your face every time you skull a worm burner out there and the laughter when one actually goes straight (completely by accident of course). Then, when you're just about to quit and sell your clubs to a smelting company, the last ball in the bucket turns out to be the best shot you've hit all afternoon.
Curse you "come back tomorrow" ball...
But its still April.. and it's still raining (which consequently is the best excuse you're conscience can find to skip practicing) and there is still plenty of golf ahead of us. Now is the time to be frustrated, curse the game you know you love, put your nose to the grindstone and get to work. Then when we have finally had enough, the Players Championship will remind us that yes, golf is fun again. As we watch the winner walk down 18 we'll repeat this process all over again. But this time.. because you've been practicing (right?...right?) you'll be better, and maybe this time you'll start seeing those birdies.. eagles.. and albatrosses.
Ok so I'm kidding about the albatrosses.. but I mean the rest.
Until next time,
Hit 'em straight.
Well isn't that just a pleasant dream.
Matter of fact is we need to hit the range first... hard. Take a stroll out to Westminster Island Green (yes, yes, shameless promotion) on a bright and sunny day and shake off all the old rust.
Easier said than done.. am I right?
So we start swinging.. and swinging.. and swinging, and eventually you start to fall from cloud 9 back to reality. The reality that isn't filled with birdies, eagles, and albatrosses (for all of you seriously delusional people out there), but rather with pulls, pushes, that pull hook that almost broke a window off the 18th last fall, and well.. everything else imaginable.
Thank you Murphy's Law
But this is a good thing.
The constant twinging on your face every time you skull a worm burner out there and the laughter when one actually goes straight (completely by accident of course). Then, when you're just about to quit and sell your clubs to a smelting company, the last ball in the bucket turns out to be the best shot you've hit all afternoon.
Curse you "come back tomorrow" ball...
But its still April.. and it's still raining (which consequently is the best excuse you're conscience can find to skip practicing) and there is still plenty of golf ahead of us. Now is the time to be frustrated, curse the game you know you love, put your nose to the grindstone and get to work. Then when we have finally had enough, the Players Championship will remind us that yes, golf is fun again. As we watch the winner walk down 18 we'll repeat this process all over again. But this time.. because you've been practicing (right?...right?) you'll be better, and maybe this time you'll start seeing those birdies.. eagles.. and albatrosses.
Ok so I'm kidding about the albatrosses.. but I mean the rest.
Until next time,
Hit 'em straight.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)