An exciting day at the U.S. Open Golf Tournament

Yesterday I watched grass grow
a bit (yawn) of the (yawn) U.S. Open Golf Tournament. Always a good choice when you’re in need of a nap. Even my Dad, who is a golf addict, loves golf, produced plenty of my childhood memories of Dad snoozing in the easy chair, golf in the background on the tv, on a Sunday afternoon.

I didn’t want to sleep, though; I tried to stay awake, notwithstanding the gentle, lulling sounds of the air’s whisking across the broadcasters’ television microphones, punctuated intermittently by the sound of a club whipping through the grass, the ooh/aahh of the “raucous” New York crowd, and the subtle, calm comments of the rocket scientists announcers. I didn’t want to sleep because I was only trying to catch Phil; I love Phil Mickelson. He’s adorable, seems sweet, exhibits good sportsmanship, and he’s loaded. What’s not to like? He has always reminded me of Hugh Grant wearing golfers’ gloves. My crush on Phil only increased after I read that he signed autographs for his adoring fans after the practice round, whereas Tiger “went out of his way to avoid eye contact with the crowd.” Um… can you say: “does not work and play well with others?” To each his own.

Anyway, I couldn’t sleep because they refused to show footage of Phil, and also the tournament was just riveting, as evidenced by the announcers’ comments.

“Wow…. WOW. Did ya see that drive, Gary?”

“Whew. Holy cow, Bob. That was quite a drive.”

“He was WAY off!” [The kid, who looked like he was about 15, had hit the ball way into the “rough.”]

“Yeah – ya know… he took two practice swings, both with an open-faced club… and when he hit it he hit it the SAME way.. and so he hooked it.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Yeah- that’s some pretty tall grass, Bob. You’re not supposed to be over there.”

“I don’t know what he’s gonna do, Gary. Geez. He may..... hurt his wrist…”

[is he serious?….]

“Yeah wow. He MIGHT hurt his wrist, Bob.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he whiffed.”

“Yeah, he could whiff.”

“Shew. He sure is in a spot.”

[At this point the golfer effortlessly chips the ball onto the green from the tall rough, disappointing the announcers immensely.]

“Let’s go over to Terry and see what’s happening on the 9th green.”



“Well, Gary and Bob, these New Yorkers are riled up. This is a boisterous crowd.”

“Did ya hear that guy in the crowd whoop after Tiger hit the drive, Karl?”

“Wow. These crazy New Yorkers…..it’s been a long day for the crowd AND the golfers.”

“Ya know… these competitors are tired. They’ve been out here all day.”

"Yeah, Terry. This crowd's really behind the players, and that helps pick up their energy. Really gives 'em a much-needed boost."

How are we to take these guys seriously? These are golfers…. How tired can they be? Strolling at a snail’s pace a mile in total along beautifully manicured course, stopping here and there to swing a club or perhaps sign an autograph, while they pay someone else to schlep all of their crap along with them…. Whew! Tiring!

Alas, I was spared further chuckling as the rain at the Open began again. I can’t wait to tune in for the final day. Lord only knows what spectacular announcers’ comments will enhance the Open…