A good walk spoiled

New York Times

Golf, that is. The title phrase was coined by Mark Twain back when clubs were made from hickory sticks and balls from something called gutta percha, which is a fish. Oh, for those stumbling on this site for the first time Fore Left is NOT a golf blog. Disregard the fact there's a picture of a famous golfer in the masthead, the title is a play on words based on golf-speak. The site is really about Paris Hilton.

I am a golfer, at least I carry a bag of clubs and make motions towards hitting the ball. It's actually an enjoyable pastime. I usually walk whenever we're not in the middle of Memphis summer because let's face it--there has to be an exercise component somehow.

That brings me round to point. The PGA Tour is making a stop in Memphis this week and, since those guys are good and I was fortunate enough to locate a few spare hours, I headed the jalopy out to the TPC Southwind golf course to watch the action. By the way, the Golf Channel will broadcast the event this evening so you can look for me on the tube. I'm the one wearing the hat.

Golf tournaments are unlike any other sport. You can get real close to the players, ridiculously close actually, which allows you to see their deft talent and touch. They play a game I'm not familiar with, matter of fact.

But many spectators walk around half paranoid of speaking too loudly lest a pro be disrupted during his swing and send his much tougher-looking caddie over to verbally abuse them. Yet they serve alcohol! Baseball crowds are better.

There's also an air of upper crusty self-importance at such events. I know I had it. But seriously, stand in one spot long enough and you'll hear people bragging up a storm. As a younger man I once tried that stunt at a bar with friends to impress the women but all we did was provide entertainment. These people are actually rich.

A few notable pros held their noses and came to play such as Sergio Garcia, Retief Goosen, Vijay Singh and John Daly. No Tiger Woods. Isn't it time to call him out on this snubbing? He's never come to Memphis despite our large percentage of persons of color, many of whom have taken up the sport in his name. You'd think he could find time.

Towards the end of the day I witnessed a pro actually throw a club. That was cool. He hit a ball in the water and tossed his iron end over end across the fairway. Funny, a few years ago I saw another pro break an iron over his knee on that very same hole. It's a true gentleman's game, though.

The scores were horrible today partly because Memphis has become part of the new great southeastern desert due to Bush's failure to adopt Kyoto. Winds to 35 mph and temperatures well into the 90s made the course hot and hard. Now there's some sexy golf talk. Tomorrow it might rain as it usually does during tournament week, which will make the scores much better.

And that's the dichotomy of golf--you hit down to make it go up, you hit easier to make it go farther, and you call penalties on yourself. It's frustration interrupted by an occasional miracle in a dog chasing its tail pursuit of excellence. Maybe that's what keeps some of us stumbling back.