Tiger's first grimace -- first show of possible humanity -- came on his tee shot at the Par 5 9th. He's protecting a one-shot lead after nine, and you have to wonder how much that left knee will effect his play on the back nine.
Rocco Mediate is playing solid golf at +1, and I think he's the perfect guy to face Tiger in this type of situation. He's utterly unfazed by the mystique surrounding the World's #1: He's playing his game, chatting. fidgeting, and hitting it close.
There's no doubt Tiger's got his putter going -- everything he's put in so far has been dead center -- but the outcome here is certainly still in question. He has hit a couple of shots that no other man alive could even attempt -- a lazer beam 8-iron from 190 yards setting up an easy five-footer for his second-consecutive birdie on the front.
Thank God for the switch to NBC at 1pm here, and we just got to see Rocco chunk an easy four-footer for par on the 9th in HD. Golf is a completely different sport to watch in High Def, and as the professional couch surfer I am, you can trust my opinion on that. Mediate will make the turn down two shots -- a seemingly sufficient lead for even an ailing Tiger.
The difficulty of this course really precludes any precise predictions, so I won't venture any.
But my money's on Tiger, if you can believe it.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Tiger vs Rocco: Golf in the Morning
Tiger Woods is, without question, the most dominant athlete of the modern era.
Master of the most confounding of games, Woods' physical perfection and mental tenacity defy explanation.
Golf is a ruthless, unforgiving game. I've probably played nine total holes in my life, and while I can't claim to be a stellar or even above-average athlete, my ineptitude with a crooked-stick in my hands is unbelievably laughable. [During that sole unfinished round, my clubs flew twice as far as any ball I struck with them. Pitiful.]
And this morning, after rolling home a 12-foot birdie on the 72nd hole of the US Open, Tiger will play an 18-hole playoff round against Rocco Mediate, who looks about as athletic as the paper-pusher in the cubicle next to yours.
But that's golf.
Tiger was clearly in pain all week, gritting through what he called a "shooting pain" in his left knee, which underwent arthroscopic surgery more than two months ago.
"It's just pain," he said with a shrug after an unbelievable back nine on Friday -- the kind of statement you'd expect from the smartest and most mentally tough athlete on the planet.
But despite all Tiger's greatness, it's just impossible not to like Rocco Mediate. He reminds me of the favorite uncle who'd sneak you into that R-rated movie your parents would never let you see.
He plays with a peace-sign belt-buckle and a constant smile. And his game, like his personality, isn't the least bit intimidating. The 158th-ranked player in the world coming into the Open, Rocco's drives top out at 285, but his golf philosophy is sound:
"It doesn't matter how you get it in, you just gotta get it in," he said Sunday night.
And that, too, is golf.
Watching the press conferences following Tiger's playoff-forcing birdie, it's clear that Mediate is giddy to have a shot at the King. He's not hesitant or scared like many of his colleagues would be facing a head-to-head round with Woods. Hell, most of them can't even stomach being paired with the man, much less squaring up with him for a single round with a major on the line.
Now, Tiger ain't scurred, either -- that's for sure.
"I'd rather go now, but that's just me," he said with a smile and both hands squeezing the bill of his cap.
So these polar opposites will face off this morning: The man who stands for what golf truly is, and the one who is the face of what it wants to be.
There may be a day when the Tour is filled with Woods-like athletes, who run sub-five 40s and bench press 350 pounds, but Ima go out on a limb and say it won't be any time soon.
No, truth is, Mediate is more of a golfer than Tiger. I know, that sounds like saying someone's more conservative than Pat Robertson or sexier than Angie Harmon, but it's true.
If Tiger had picked basketball or baseball -- hell, he coulda picked hockey -- there's no doubt he'd be pro-caliber. Mediate might have made it as a curler, or maybe an Olympic archer or something, but other than that, the man was destined for golf.
His lighthearted temperment and utter humility suit him perfectly to make the most of a good walk spoiled.
Does any of that mean I'm picking him to upset Woods, gimpy knee and all, in the playoff round this morning?
I may be crazy, folks, but stupid I can't claim.
[Hopefully, I'll be back at the turn for an update. Read: potential retraction...]
Master of the most confounding of games, Woods' physical perfection and mental tenacity defy explanation.
Golf is a ruthless, unforgiving game. I've probably played nine total holes in my life, and while I can't claim to be a stellar or even above-average athlete, my ineptitude with a crooked-stick in my hands is unbelievably laughable. [During that sole unfinished round, my clubs flew twice as far as any ball I struck with them. Pitiful.]
And this morning, after rolling home a 12-foot birdie on the 72nd hole of the US Open, Tiger will play an 18-hole playoff round against Rocco Mediate, who looks about as athletic as the paper-pusher in the cubicle next to yours.
But that's golf.
Tiger was clearly in pain all week, gritting through what he called a "shooting pain" in his left knee, which underwent arthroscopic surgery more than two months ago.
"It's just pain," he said with a shrug after an unbelievable back nine on Friday -- the kind of statement you'd expect from the smartest and most mentally tough athlete on the planet.
But despite all Tiger's greatness, it's just impossible not to like Rocco Mediate. He reminds me of the favorite uncle who'd sneak you into that R-rated movie your parents would never let you see.
He plays with a peace-sign belt-buckle and a constant smile. And his game, like his personality, isn't the least bit intimidating. The 158th-ranked player in the world coming into the Open, Rocco's drives top out at 285, but his golf philosophy is sound:
"It doesn't matter how you get it in, you just gotta get it in," he said Sunday night.
And that, too, is golf.
Watching the press conferences following Tiger's playoff-forcing birdie, it's clear that Mediate is giddy to have a shot at the King. He's not hesitant or scared like many of his colleagues would be facing a head-to-head round with Woods. Hell, most of them can't even stomach being paired with the man, much less squaring up with him for a single round with a major on the line.
Now, Tiger ain't scurred, either -- that's for sure.
"I'd rather go now, but that's just me," he said with a smile and both hands squeezing the bill of his cap.
So these polar opposites will face off this morning: The man who stands for what golf truly is, and the one who is the face of what it wants to be.
There may be a day when the Tour is filled with Woods-like athletes, who run sub-five 40s and bench press 350 pounds, but Ima go out on a limb and say it won't be any time soon.
No, truth is, Mediate is more of a golfer than Tiger. I know, that sounds like saying someone's more conservative than Pat Robertson or sexier than Angie Harmon, but it's true.
If Tiger had picked basketball or baseball -- hell, he coulda picked hockey -- there's no doubt he'd be pro-caliber. Mediate might have made it as a curler, or maybe an Olympic archer or something, but other than that, the man was destined for golf.
His lighthearted temperment and utter humility suit him perfectly to make the most of a good walk spoiled.
Does any of that mean I'm picking him to upset Woods, gimpy knee and all, in the playoff round this morning?
I may be crazy, folks, but stupid I can't claim.
[Hopefully, I'll be back at the turn for an update. Read: potential retraction...]
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Lakers/Celts: Over before it started?
So, I'm sitting here in the middle of the second quarter of Game 5 of the NBA Finals, and the Lakers have let yet another double-digit lead ooze out their grasp. The question that comes to mind, of course, is: Why?
The answer, I think, is equally simple: Defense.
The Celtics just finished a 15-0 run, much of which came on easy drives for layups and wide open jump shots. Phil Jackson has to know that the interior of his defense is weak -- at times, Pau Gasol looks softer than a recently-tranquilized giraffe. Lamar Odom is a decent defender, but Kevin Garnett makes him look silly when they're one-on-one, and Odom's real assets lie with the ball in his hands.
The defense of the men in Green has been lauded appropriately since the season began, and Boston is the best defensive team I've seen since the Spurs were young.
Paul Pierce and KG are the best guard-forward defensive tandem since [blasphemy alert] Jordan and Pippen, and even though Pip was a 3 and Garnett a 4, the comparison is apt. These two-thirds of the Big Three have stretches where their men simply do not score, much like MJ and Scottie displayed during their six trips to the Finals.
Pierce may be the most underrated player in the League -- and you have no idea how hard that is for this MU grad to print. I guess the blasphemy is coming easy this evening.
Halftime is here, and the Laker lead is down to three. There's really no telling which way this one will go. If the Celtics can deny Kobe the ball and double-team him as perfectly as they did in the late stages of Game 4, there's no doubt in my mind that the city of Boston will take home yet another Major Championship this year. But, honestly, there's no accounting for what Kobe can do in the right situation, and in an elimination scenario, attempting to predict a loss for his team would be like picking Big Brown to finish last at Belmont or Tiger Woods to need an 18-hole playoff to win the U.S. Open.
Tiger's Father's Day performance, of course, brings Dad to mind, and I can't help but think about how lucky I've been to grow up in a house with two supportive parents. The worst handicap a young man can have in this country is to grow up without a male role-model, and I was blessed enough to have about five. Where else would I have picked up this undeniable masculinity and sheer machismo?
Thanks, Dad.
The answer, I think, is equally simple: Defense.
The Celtics just finished a 15-0 run, much of which came on easy drives for layups and wide open jump shots. Phil Jackson has to know that the interior of his defense is weak -- at times, Pau Gasol looks softer than a recently-tranquilized giraffe. Lamar Odom is a decent defender, but Kevin Garnett makes him look silly when they're one-on-one, and Odom's real assets lie with the ball in his hands.
The defense of the men in Green has been lauded appropriately since the season began, and Boston is the best defensive team I've seen since the Spurs were young.
Paul Pierce and KG are the best guard-forward defensive tandem since [blasphemy alert] Jordan and Pippen, and even though Pip was a 3 and Garnett a 4, the comparison is apt. These two-thirds of the Big Three have stretches where their men simply do not score, much like MJ and Scottie displayed during their six trips to the Finals.
Pierce may be the most underrated player in the League -- and you have no idea how hard that is for this MU grad to print. I guess the blasphemy is coming easy this evening.
Halftime is here, and the Laker lead is down to three. There's really no telling which way this one will go. If the Celtics can deny Kobe the ball and double-team him as perfectly as they did in the late stages of Game 4, there's no doubt in my mind that the city of Boston will take home yet another Major Championship this year. But, honestly, there's no accounting for what Kobe can do in the right situation, and in an elimination scenario, attempting to predict a loss for his team would be like picking Big Brown to finish last at Belmont or Tiger Woods to need an 18-hole playoff to win the U.S. Open.
Tiger's Father's Day performance, of course, brings Dad to mind, and I can't help but think about how lucky I've been to grow up in a house with two supportive parents. The worst handicap a young man can have in this country is to grow up without a male role-model, and I was blessed enough to have about five. Where else would I have picked up this undeniable masculinity and sheer machismo?
Thanks, Dad.
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