Tap-Ins

A few short strokes at items that have caught my attention ...

A Wie Bit. I'll admit, I've been starting to like Michelle Wie lately. For years, it seemed like she was wasting her formidable talent through mismanagement: She spent so much time as a teenager trying to play in men's event (and LPGA majors) that she went years without a win of any kind before finally, at age 20 nabbing her first LPGA win at the Lorena Ochoa Invitational last November. The victory seemed like evidence that she was finally coming into her own, and was on the verge of realizing some of her prodigious potential. In the meantime, I was impressed that she was committed to completing her college education at Stanford, where she continues to be a full-time student in the off-season.

     This weekend, however, she showed she still has some maturing to do. Wie was in contention at the Kia Classic in California when she was assessed a penalty. After taking a swing at a ball in the water, her ball failed to officially exit the hazard, after which she clearly set her club down in the grass within the bounds of the hazard, a two stroke penalty. She did not handle it well (you can watch the video here). (Image: golf.com)
     Wie claimed that she felt "off-balance" after the shot and was merely trying to steady herself with her club. But it sure doesn't look that way!  And even if that were the case, I don't think that would absolve her of the penalty (but I'm not sure of this). This is apparently not the first time that Wie has had difficulty following or knowing the rules. On Golf Central today, Tim Rosaforte called her an "airhead" when it comes to the rules (while acknowledging that she is otherwise clearly quite intelligent). I think that's a bit harsh, though for someone who's been playing golf her whole life, this strikes me as a rookie mistake.
     I am disappointed, however, that she didn't react better. It's all part of the maturation process – she is just 20 years old, after all. Hopefully she'll learn from her mistake, and from the criticism, and grow as a result.

UPDATE: Some very interesting commentary on the matter at "Free Drop," a blog written by a PGA Rules official. In a nutshell, he thinks the official involved overreached in this particular situation. Read it (including a familiar-sounding headline) here. (Hat tip: Daily Flogging blog at golf.com.)

On Par

Everyone is talking about the course changes at the Arnold Palmer Invitational (a.k.a. Bay Hill). The contours of many greens have been softened to allow for a greater variety of pin placements, bunkers have been rearranged, some greens and tees have been moved, and the course has been slightly lengthened. But what seems to be drawing the most attention is that the course will once again be playing as a par 72, for the first time since two par-5 holes were changed to par-4s in 2007.

     Last night on the Golf Channel, analyst John Hawkins was downright dismissive of the change in par, calling it "meaningless." And I understand his logic: that how you play a hole is – or at least should be, especially for pros –  unaffected by whether you call it a par-4 or -5.

     But is it really?

     I remember having this discussion with a buddy of mine way back when at the beloved Orange Course at the University of Illinois. The 13th hole was a ridiculously short par-5 – I think the card said something just shy of 450 yards (this was back when they only had one set of men's tees, and woods were still made from trees). But it was fairly tight, with OB all the way down the right and a big, yawning bunker pinching off the left side of the fairway. The steep, sloping green was also well protected by two big bunkers in the front. That never kept me from trying to hit the green in two every time, however. In retrospect, this was very bad strategy, as I'm sure I ended up with far more 7s than 4s. Playing for a safe 5 every time would have made much more sense. But I really wanted that eagle! (Image: the 13th at the Orange Course has since been lengthened to just over 500 yards.)

     Then one year the powers-that-be decided the hole should be a par-4. I don't think they shortened it any, and they certainly didn't scale back the sand traps. It was really and truly the exact same hole, just with a new standard for measuring success. I found the change annoying, in part because I couldn't quite decide whether a nice 11-over-par 82, for instance, was as gratifying as a 10-over 82. And also because if I ever did get that 3 (nope), I could no longer legitimately call it an eagle. And I still played the hole the same way.

      My friend, however (let's call him "Rob"), who was more apt to lay up, commented that he now felt compelled to go for the green in two. "Why?" I asked. "Because it's a par-4 now," he replied. "So?" "So on a par 4 you try to hit the green in two." "But it's the same hole!" "No it's not, it's a par-4 now." And so on ...

Tap-Ins

A few backhanded stabs at things that have captured my interest recently ...

Pre-Masters Meat-fest – with a Mission. One of the many famous traditions at the Masters is the Champion's Dinner, in which the defending champion treats all the surviving past champions to a special dinner of his choosing in the Augusta National dining room. Often, the champion chooses a menu that is reflective of his particular tastes or the culture of his homeland: in 1998, German Bernhard Langer served wiener schnitzel; Sandy Lyle, a Scot, served haggis in 1989; in 1998, 22-year-old Tiger Woods served cheeseburgers, french fries, and milkshakes. This year, 2009 champ Angel Cabrera plans to prepare a traditional Argentinian asado, which is basically a South American grilled meat extravaganza. (Photo: Pablo D. Flores, via Wikimedia Commons.)

But that's not the most-interesting part. While the Champions Dinner is typically veiled in a certain amount of secrecy (it's not open to the press and guests are generally not allowed), Cabrera plans to open things up a little by offering a "preview" of his dinner to 100 well-heeled guests – at $1,000 a plate. Proceeds will go to Cabrera's foundation, which supports needy people in his hometown of Cordoba (including caddies) and helps fund the local hospital. My knee-jerk reaction to this story was that he's devaluing the Masters tradition by doing this – but it's not like he's holding the dinner in the Augusta National dining room or anything; the dinner will be in Houston. I think this is a great idea, and if I were a past Masters champion, I'd offer to attend, write a big check, and challenge diners to donate even more.
      Good on you, Angel. Maybe this will be the start of a whole new Masters tradition.

I Don't Know Art ... but I know what I like. And I really like this Van Gogh-style portrait of Groundskeeper Willie from The Simpsons. Willie is Scottish, and Van Gogh (1853-1890) could have painted such a picture in the early years of the Open Championship, so let's pretend, for purposes of relevance, that the scowling red-head is some nameless rival of the Morrises. Hey, maybe it's Willie Park Jr.! You can view more such artistic whiffles (including a haunting Rembrandt Homer) at www.limpfish.com.

The Show Must Go On

I'm not an "equipment guy." In fact, if it were up to me we might all still be playing with hickory shafts and gutta percha balls – maybe even featheries. So I've never had much interest in going to the Milwaukee Golf Show, which came to town this past weekend. But now that I'm a high-falutin' blogger, I figured I probably ought to go and see what all the shouting's about. I went not in search of the latest and greatest, however, but of the interesting and amusing – and perhaps a few bargains. Here are a few of the things that caught my eye ...

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday! I hadn't heard the term "Sunday bag" in many years – but that's how my dad referred to a small, lightweight golf bag. The ones pictured here are designed to hold just ten clubs and, obviously, be easy to carry. (Am I the only one thinking about ninjas right now?) Always the inquisitive one, I asked the guy working the booth where the term "Sunday bag" came from. He had no idea, but I have a thought. Back in more pious and conservative times, when many people still looked at working on Sundays as a sin, it may have been hard or even impossible to find a caddy on the Sabbath, forcing golfers to carry their own clubs. Old Tom Morris himself forbade the very playing of golf on Sundays at St. Andrews, a practice which I believe continues today (with exceptions for the Open Championship). I like this theory so much I'm not even going to google it to see if I'm right. I hereby declare it to be so!

Brush strokes. You've probably seen the "Brush T" advertised, as have I. The idea here is that the design of the tee -- which features a bunch of tightly packed bristles to hold up the ball -- will reduce resistance as the club comes through the ball. Really? Really!? I can't imagine that a conventional tee, especially at driver-height, would provide any sort of resistance whatsoever. I'd like to see the boys at "Mythbusters" tackle this one. But then, I'm a guy who will snap a perfectly good tee in half if I can't find a broken one to use on a par-3 – because I don't like the thought of a entire tee anchored so deeply in the ground. We all have our little gremlins, so I guess if the Brush T helps you paint a more positive mental picture before you swing away, more power to ya. And if it doesn't help you hit it farther and straighter, you can always use it to clean your grooves, groom your mustache, or get that disgusting gunk out from around the bolts that hold your toilet to the floor.

What would Hogan say? Ben Hogan hated the very idea of putting. He once argued, "There's no similarity between golf and putting. They are two different games, one played in the air, the other on the ground." Fair enough, but that sour attitude toward golf's ground game is probably a big part of the reason he wasn't very good at it, especially later in his career. And it makes one wonder what he would have thought of "The Big Cup." At first I didn't give this product much of a look, assuming it was a putting aid of some sort. But it's actually a bit more intriguing than that, something meant to change the way the game is played – at least for some people. The Big Cup, which is designed to be inserted inside a regulation golf hole, is intended to essentially double the size of the hole. It's not meant for serious play, but for recreational golfers looking to make the game a little easier and faster. As a self-proclaimed purist, I hereby renounce such nonsense in the strongest possible terms! But I must confess, I've wondered to myself how different the game would be if the hole were larger. Maybe (maybe) Hogan would approve – but that doesn't make it right!

On Blood Clots, Ben Hogan, and Playing Pressure-free

It didn't hit me until I was standing on the 17th tee, just how well I was playing. I was two over for the round, two under for the back nine: by far the best 16 holes I'd ever played. Until that moment, I was playing extremely relaxed golf. It's funny how  a few days in the hospital with blood clots in your lungs can take the pressure off.

     Almost exactly seven days before, the pain in my chest came on very gradually, on my left side, near my rib cage. I noticed it mostly when I took a deep breath – I thought it was a pulled muscle. Or – I'd eaten a lot of tacos for dinner that night, so perhaps it was indigestion. I took some antacid, just in case.

     It was Labor Day weekend, so Mrs. Whiffler and I had taken advantage of the long weekend to do some backyard camping with the Golden Bear Cub. That night, I just couldn't get comfortable in the tent. It hurt worse when I laid down, so after tossing and turning on the thin camping mattress for a while I got up to go sleep in the house. "Is it your chest?" my wife asked with some concern (I'd mentioned the pain to her earlier). "No, no," I lied. "I just can't get comfortable out here."

     But I couldn't get comfortable inside either, and by 3:00 a.m. I was starting to get worried. But it was 3:00 a.m., so I was very reluctant to wake anybody up over what I was still convinced was nothing. Yet, just to be safe (and knowing my wife would kill me if I had a heart attack without telling her) I called the medical hot-line number provided by our insurance company. A few minutes later I was trudging out to the backyard: "Honey, wake up, I need you to take me to the emergency room." We phoned a neighbor to look after the boy and got in the car.