I’m not the first to point this out, but it
bears repeating. Tiger’s advantage over mere mortals is lessened on par-70 golf
courses, especially in the majors. This is why I don’t predict a win for Tiger
this June at Merion.
Let it be duly noted: This is the first time
I’ve ever underestimated Tiger’s ability in any realm, situation or scenario. It
will probably be the last. Not because he’ll win, but because once-in-a-lifetime
is all the risk I can take betting against Tiger.
Nevertheless, the facts back up the argument.
Tiger’s biggest separation from the field comes from medium to long par-fives.
Eliminate two of those par-fives, and you’ve taken away some of his advantage.
More accurately, it’s the number of par-fives,
not the total par for the course, that makes the difference. It’s a fine distinction
that is often moot, because most par-70 courses have four par-threes and two
par-fives; par-71s usually have three par-fives; and par-72s usually have four
par-fives. There are, of course, anomalies. The Carnoustie
Golf Links, for instance, has three par-threes and only two par-fives to make
71—for the Open Championships, at least.
Ken Venturi may have
said it best a few years back: "If every course was made up of 18 par-fives of
580 yards, Tiger would win every tournament."
Of course, that advantage has been on the
decline, on average. But when Tiger has his "A game," there’s no denying his
dominance of the par-fives. According to the Golf Channel, from 1997 to 2003,
Tiger led every year in the birdie-or-better percentage on par-fives. In 2000,
he shot birdie or better on 62% of the par-fives he played. He’s now averaging
about 50% in that stat.
Length with accuracy is surely the primary factor,
but so is Tiger’s exceptional short game. Even at 600-yards or over, Tiger can
get it on the green or close, and then his short game takes over.
Remember how pivotal the par-five 12th at Doral
was in the overly ballyhooed Tiger/Phil duel in 2005? Tiger was consistently
around the green through the week, and on Sunday, Tiger was the only player in
the field to hit the green on the 603-yard hole. With a 295-yard 3-wood to the
back of the green. And he made an easy birdie. Easy from that point!
The best way to neutralize Tiger, truth be
told, would be a course setup that would force Tiger to hit approach clubs similar
to the field into all the greens. He would still have a statistical advantage,
but players with hot putters would be more of a threat.
In the hypothetical, and in the logical
opposite to Venturi’s hypothesis, that would mean 18
holes of 150-yard par-threes. In more practical reality, a Tiger-neutralizing
setup should have only two par-fives of medium length, four short- to
medium-length par-threes, and as many sharp doglegged par-fours as possible, as
long as there is no way to cut off the corner.
The most effective Tiger-proofing to date was
probably The Open Championship at Carnoustie in 2007.
The setup "pinched in" the rough on fairways at the landing area of the longer
hitters. This made using driver a poor risk/reward equation for them on those
holes, and they often chose 3-woods—and less—even on long par
fours.
Plus Carnoustie, as
mentioned, had only two par-fives in its par of 71. Tiger finished five shots
back, in a tie for 12th, even though he was 50% on birdie-or-better on the
eight par-fives that week—and five-under with three birdies and an eagle.
More evidence of the par-72 advantage is the
courses where Tiger has won seven times. Yes, they’re all 72s—Firestone,
Doral, Bay Hill, and Torrey Pines. (For those about to object: Yes, Torrey
Pines North and South both play to par 72 when it’s not a U.S. Open venue.)
Which brings us to Bay Hill. Through the first
six par-fives in rounds No.1 and No. 2, he was 7-under. He was back on his rate
of 67 percent on par-five birdie-or-betters. After a poor par-five performance the
Friday back nine, he closed out the tournament by going eight-under on the
eight weekend par-fives. Nothing to it. For 2013, he’s at 64.3 percent on
birdie or better on par-fives.
But it’s okay if he doesn’t win at Merion.
He’ll have his fifth green jacket from the par-72 Augusta National Golf Club by
then. Bet on it.
Twitter: Follow me @RonMyPhillyGolf.
Looking forward to updating followers frequently at the #usopen
at #merion.
Ron Romanik is
principal of the brand, packaging and PR consultancy Romanik
Communications (www.romanik.com), located
in Elverson, PA. His full bio is here.
Here’s one person that hopes the reign
of Stacy Lewis at No. 1 on the Rolex Rankings is a long one. She’s fun to watch
and fun to listen to. Even during hardship. Her caddie Travis Wilson cost her a
two-stroke penalty on the 16th hole on Saturday, but Stacy took it all in
stride.
"We’ll be fine," Lewis said twice
Saturday night, assuring the pressroom that she wasn’t going to let the penalty
affect her Sunday game.
"I haven’t shot my low number this week."
Saturday, after rounds of 68, 65, and 66 (without penalty). She shot 8-under 64
on Sunday.
"I just say to the viewer that called in:
Thanks for the motivation," she said greenside, after winning the RR Donnelley
LPGA Founders Cup on March 17, without any spite.
"I just wanted to play well for
Travis today. This win is definitely for him." In the pressroom Sunday night,
relieved that things went their way today.
"It’s got a nice ring to it," Lewis
added, on being the new No. 1 on the Rolex Rankings.
As Stacy Lewis herself humbly admits,
she’s an unlikely candidate for the No 1 Female Golfer in the World. At
age 11, she was diagnosed with scoliosis, and in high school, she underwent spinal
fusion surgery that inserted a rod and five screws into her back.
Resilient as she is, Stacy fought hard
on Sunday, which turned into a dogfight between Lewis and Ai Miyazato for the first 15 holes. One player would make
birdie or two, and the other would respond. The biggest swing came, however, on
the same hole that cost Lewis the two-stroke penalty on Saturday. Still behind
by one going into the hole, she found a fairway bunker again, albeit this time
on the opposite side of the fairway.
On Saturday, caddie Travis Wilson
entered the bunker and appeared to test the depth and condition of the sand.
Truth be told, I’m not the strictest rules hound around, but I saw his actions
as a potential penalty right away. I’m not saying it was intentional, but
intention only matters if you whiff a shot and you’re the only one that knows
if you meant to hit the ball. For most other rules, intention is moot.
Rules officials brought the situation
to Stacy’s and Travis’ attention in the scoring area, and they all reviewed the
tape together. Stacy accepted the penalty without much protest. Quite the
contrary; she used the incident to stoke her competitive fire for extra
motivation.
So, on Sunday on the 16th, another
dramatic turn of events came to pass. Stacy hits a remarkable shot out of the
fairway bunker to birdie range. Ai, on the other hand, inexplicably yanks a
wedge off a perfect lie in the fairway far left and ends up with a
double-bogey. Lewis makes the birdie for a three-shot swing, and a two-shot
lead with two to go extends to three up with another birdie at 17.
The only thing she didn't do on Sunday was
finish with a birdie, but she gave it a nice run on a downhill slider. It would
have been nice symmetry, to start down by four and win by four with a 63, but a
64 was more appropriate for another poetic justice reason. At the beginning of
the week, Travis tried to up Stacy’s mojo with a new ball mark—a shiny
silver vintage quarter. The year? ’64.
Free Drop
Well-known is the trend of Asian female
golfers taking over the rankings on the LPGA Tour (37 of the top 100 are
Korean), but the PGA Tour is telling a slightly different story. All 12 PGA
Tour events in 2013 have been won by U.S. players. Last year, U.S. players won
the first nine events on the PGA Tour. For whatever that’s worth. As they say:
That and a silver quarter might get you a cup of coffee.
Ron Romanik is principal of the brand,
packaging, and PR consultancy Romanik Communications (www.romanik.com), located in Elverson, PA.
Ron’s bio is here.
I’m here to help. Being an expert on
golf matters as you and I fancy ourselves to be, it’s often hard to be silent
when you overhear someone discussing a golf topic without the proper context. A
sentence that a friend or acquaintance says catches your ear, or you’re minding
your own business eavesdropping at a department store, and your ears perk up.
Even at the virtual water cooler of the Internet, or by an actual water cooler
at work, you cringe at first. But then you feel obligated—nay,
compelled—to try to enlighten the unenlightened.
You usually leave the experience
feeling like you’ve helped—but have you really? You’re most likely
wasting your time.
I was similarly enticed to action last
Friday night when, half paying attention to the Nightly News, Brian Williams
did a short segment on Rory McIlroy withdrawing from the Honda Classic. I was
shocked, or amazed, that the managing editor at NBC News would think many
citizens would care. Then I thought: "Well, it is Friday night, and they’re not
above showing YouTube cat videos on a Wednesday, after all, so..."
Brian Williams alerting me to this
Earth-shaking development was the first I’d heard of it, so I went online to
check if there really was a "controversy." I was surprised, and amazed, to say
the least. IMHO, there are a lot of important things in this world, but this
was not one of them. Pro golfers WD quite frequently, truth be told. Okay, Rory
could have explained himself better to his fellow competitors, but that’s about
all I’ll concede.
On the interwebs, it seemed that there
was a majority of golf experts and part-time dentists whose response to Rory’s
toothache echoed the 1970s Cheech and Chong comedy bit: "Earache, My Eye!" On
top of that, you know, Rory sold his soul to the devil—er, Nike.
Instead of getting into a discussion of
character and a silly comparison to things Tiger has done (he’s done worse.),
just say: "Meh, he’s young."
So, here are my timesaving tips for
addressing golf topics that you might overhear in the coming weeks.
The enticement: That "Bear Trap" at the Honda Classic is
like Nicklaus’ version of Amen Corner.
The response you feel compelled to
make: That’s an interesting observation. To me, it seems a bit too contrived to
mimic Augusta National’s Amen Corner, where dramatic turns of events happen all
Sunday long at The Masters. At the Bear Trap (holes 15, 16, and 17), there are
mostly bogeys on Sundays. And since this tournament moved to PGA National in
2007, the Bear Trap stretch hasn’t affected the outcome in any significant way
on Sunday afternoon, even though the plaque (see picture) quotes Jack as
saying: "It should be won or lost right here." And, furthermore, a moniker like
that is one that others bestow on you, not one you tout yourself with a plaque (see
picture) and an eight-foot-high statue.
The timesaving response #1: If there
were actual bears—or alligators—guarding the greens, that might be
dramatic.
The timesaving response #2: If it’s not in Wikipedia, it’s not a real
thing—or dramatic.
The enticement: Donald Trump is going to blow up Doral.
The response you feel compelled to make:
Well, not really. He says there are significant changes afoot, and that’s his prerogative.
But it’s a shame that the PGA Tour’s idea of drama is to make most tour stops
have water guarding the fairways and greens on the last four or five finishing
holes. This may create drama for the casual TV viewer, whom the Tour wants to
draw in, but not for true golf enthusiasts, who are somewhat put off by this
trend. Some of the greatest golf courses in the world have no water hazards at
all, like Oakmont and Winged Foot West. In the end, this is all you really need
to know: Trump wants to turn the par-three 15th hole at Doral into an island
green. I’m not completely sure he respects the traditions of the game.
The timesaving response: Trump’s a
jerk.
The Enticement: Do you think the Tiger/Phil rivalry will be
reignited at this year’s Masters?
The response you feel compelled to make:
Well, you know, Tiger and Phil actually haven’t gone head-to-head very
frequently. I doubt that either of them would characterize their relationship
as a rivalry. The one time they did "rival," so to speak, was at Doral in 2005,
and it produced some high drama. On Sunday, Phil would make a move with a
birdie and Tiger, playing in the group behind him, would answer in turn. Tiger
won that bout in four rounds.
The timesaving response: Trust me on
this. Tiger does not waste any mental energy thinking about Phil.
The enticement: Chis Berman is always fun, even when he does
golf.
The response you feel compelled to make:
It seems that with the connections and seniority he has, Berman will be around
for a long time. He’s a fan favorite for the enthusiasm he brings to his love
of sports, and it’s infectious when he’s talking about football or baseball.
Golf, however, requires a more measured enthusiasm to convey the subtleties of
the game and the nuanced challenges that a professional golfer faces under
tournament pressure. But, just like the Pope, apparently Berman can’t be forced
to retire from golf announcing.
The timesaving response: Chris Berman
is clever; but you are less so.
The enticement: Did you hear the TSA is going to allow
golfers to carry two clubs onto planes? Which would you carry?
The response you want to make: Well,
you know, many pros keep their favorite putter so close at hand that they are
not above buying an extra plane ticket so the club has a seat of its own. It’s
not so much which two clubs would be the best to play a round if you had to
play with only two clubs. That’s a scenario that almost never happens. It’s more
about which two clubs would be the most un-replaceable should they get damaged
down below in cargo. The most likely response to the two-club question would be
the putter and driver. For me: driver and ball retriever.
The timesaving response: Kim Kardashian
really looks good pregnant.
The enticement: That picture of Hogan’s follow-through on
the one-iron swing to win the 1950 U.S. Open at Merion on a bum leg is epic,
isn’t it?
The response you feel compelled to
make: That wasn’t... it didn’t... the year was... he had to play... the bus accident
was... he didn’t make birdie... he didn’t have to... he was healed, but in pain...
there was a three-way playoff... he had to wrap his legs... it might have actually
been a 2-iron... you can see the golf ball... he hit a perfect fade to a back right
pin...
The timesaving response: Yes, it is.
I must admit, a guilty pleasure of mine
is reading the Comments sections below online news or feature articles. I’m
amazed at how passionately people feel about the most unimportant things. But I
guess the commenters are engaged in a sport of sorts, and a form of playground one-upmanship,
though no one is keeping score, and no one ever wins.
Oh, and if
someone still wants to press you on Rory’s withdrawal, ask them how they can
estimate how much pain he was in and, for the record, how many times they
themselves have cut a round of golf short prematurely.
You would
probably fall over if that person said: "No Comment."
Ron Romanik is principal of the brand,
packaging, and PR consultancy Romanik Communications (www.romanik.com), located in Elverson, PA.
Ron’s bio is here.
Chris Berman always fun? I don’t think so. Every time he comes on the screen, I reach for the remote.
Ron Romanik
Is it time for a U.S. Shamateur?
Tuesday, January 22, 2013 By Ron Romanik
The "Hungover Caddie" column in Golf
Digest is less than two years old, but it has elicited some strong reactions from
the magazine’s readership. An
Editor’s Blog by Bob Carney on the Golf Digest website provides a sampling of the responses.
In the blog, Carney admits that some
attempts at humor are not for everyone, and that those who just don’t "get it"
should choose to refrain from reading future columns. The column has a head
shot picture but no byline, suggesting a bit of anonymity for the eponymous
caddie. Carney notes, though, that Staff Writer Max Adler is "responsible" for
the column each month, indicating more than a modicum of editorial oversight.
There are two reasons for bringing up
the Hungover Caddie on this blog. First, the column is an ambitious attempt at
mixing commentary and fiction, etiquette advice and humor, honesty and attitude
that often leaves one pondering a formerly taken-for-granted belief or attitude.
It is unapologetically frank, edgy, and funny.
Secondly, one recent column illustrates
all the above points and makes a strong argument for a pretty radical policy
change in USGA rules. In the January 2013 column, Hungover Caddie recounts the
fictional story of two golfers trying to qualify for the U.S. Mid-Am. The story
examines the fate of longtime amateur Dr. Scratchet, whom we are introduced to
as he tries to drown his sorrow after just missing qualifying by choking on a
two-footer to remain in the playoff for the last spot open for the Mid-Am. His nemesis,
one Vinny Whacker, is a reinstated pro.
You can probably see where this is
going. The Hungover Caddie states it plainly: "To give a pro his amateur status
back is to throw a lion among the lambs." To the magazine’s credit, the
Hungover Caddie takes time and column inches to air arguments on both sides of
the debate.
But the point of the entire story hits
home when the Hungover Caddie slaps you with a reality check: "In 2013, half
the field at the U.S. Mid-Am will be guys who once played to cash checks."
After conceding that it’s a complicated issue, he concludes by suggesting the
USGA create a separate tournament, only for reinstated amateurs, called the US Shamateur.
As I’ve mentioned in previous columns,
one-sided blog rants are not my style, so I think there’s valid arguments on
both sides here. Finding a compromise would certainly be a challenge.
One thing I can add is my own personal
experience about a decade ago, when I was a semi-competitive amateur. A few
times, standing around the leaderboard, I’d ask about the about-to-be-crowned
winner: "Where did he come from?" When I got the "He’s a former pro" answer,
the conversation would end there, somewhat abruptly. It was as if: "’Nuff
said." Though I never witnessed any overt resentment to former pros, and my own
feelings were mixed and not particularly strong, I’d imagine many fellow
competitors had some unspoken reservations about a less-than-pure amateur
taking the spotlight away from a 100% amateur. Of course, I suspect that I
might have different feelings if, like the fictional Dr. Scratchet, I’d been
edged out of some glory by a not-so-amateur player. I’ll let you know when that
happens.
For whatever reason, only a few
Hungover Caddie columns are available online, even for logged-in Golf Digest
subscribers. Here are a few you might want to sample, however:
Ron Romanik is principal of the brand,
packaging, and PR consultancy Romanik Communications (www.romanik.com), located in Elverson, PA.
Ron’s bio is here.
Well, maybe there’s never been a safer bet than
Alabama in the 2013 NCAA Football Championship Game. But this one comes close.
It’s the type of idle 19th Hole conversation
that can turn ugly if someone doesn’t rein in their testosterone and realize
their own physical limitations. A boast, then a challenge, then a bet ensues
before calmer heads prevail. Don’t get caught on the wrong end of this one,
though.
Every golfer has had this feeling. Frustrated
on the tee of a 120-yard par-three, you drop a few extra balls and after five pitching
wedge swings, you still can’t find the dance floor. You think: "I would do
better just throwing the ball around the golf course." That may be true if your
handicap could be confused with an IQ score, but stop yourself from the next
thought progression: "I would certainly be straighter, and could reach a
120-yard par-three with one throw."
Ahem. No, you can’t. Probably not even close.
If you hear someone claim this at the 19th Hole, chime in with the dollar
amount you believe you can extract from that person.
This bet has a few other variations, such as:
"I bet I could break 90 by just throwing and rolling the ball around the
course." If the course is over 6, 400 yards and the fairways are not rock hard,
you should jump at the other end of that bet, as well.
If you’re a nice guy, however, you might want
to make sure that the fellow you’re betting has good health insurance, because
his shoulder might never be the same after that round. It’s safer to throw a
football as hard as you can, because at least the football has some mass to
slow down the arm release.
One of my dear memories from playing golf in my
youth was during a high school match at the Berkshire Country Club in Reading,
PA. I was, most likely, losing my game as I trudged off the 18th tee and down
the fairway in the fading light of a late autumn dusk. My spirits were
brightened when a good friend on the opposing team, whose game had been
completed, joined my on my trudge carrying a ball and a wedge.
His name was Rich Delucia,
and he was a very talented athlete. As I recall, he was throwing one- and two-hitters
left and right for Wyomissing High School as an underclassman, and he had a
seemingly effortless ease with a number of other sports, golf included.
Rich always gave me a chuckle. He was
soft-spoken and polite on the surface, but underneath simmered a mischievous, insubordinate streak. He knew he had talent,
but he rarely drew attention to himself for its own sake.
The 18th at the Berkshire is a short,
narrow, straightaway par-four. I was likely left with a 100-yard shot after a
three-wood tee ball. As we passed the 150-yard plate in the fairway, Rich
tapped the plate with the iron end of his club, tossed the ball lightly in his
right hand, and said: "I bet you I can throw it on the green from here." I
blurted out: "No way!!"
Having tried to throw a golf ball
myself on a golf course once or twice before, I knew there were limitations. I
don’t believe I ever made it to 100 yards. However, I also knew Rich had a
golden arm. And I knew he probably wouldn’t have made the claim if he didn’t
have a reasonable chance of backing it up. I think we settled on five bucks for
the wager.
Now, you can’t see the surface of the
18th green from the fairway, but if you clear the shallow front bunker, you’re
on. If it was 150 to the center, then it was probably 140 to clear the bunker.
By the time he started getting his
step-and-a-half windup going, I figured I was probably going to be out five
smackers, but I thought with a little hope: "When a professional MLB pitcher
tries to throw his heater at his best 95 mph speed, sometimes it only pops at
90."
He glanced around to see that he didn’t
have an audience. What was more astonishing than him winning the bet was the
way his throw took off—and rose into the air—like an eight-iron.
How the heck did he get that much spin on that little ball? The next thought I
had was: "If his dad saw him do that, he’d probably wring his neck."
I secretly hoped Rich didn’t jeopardize
his major league baseball career with stunts like that, but it was a fun trick
nonetheless. And he didn’t after all. Rich pitched nine seasons in "The Bigs," going 12-13 in his first season as a starter before
later transitioning into a middle reliever.
It’s truly humbling when you see real,
raw talent like that up close.
And yes, some pro golfers are athletes.
Paul Casey, tossed
a ball on the green of a 132-yared par-three during the 2011 Telus Skins Game
in Alberta, Canada. A Brit, Casey grew up playing cricket, so he know his
capabilities. The real power in the throw—just like a golf swing—seems
to come from the timing of the weight transfer to the left side.
Ron Romanik is
principal of the brand and PR consultancy Romanik
Communications (www.romanik.com), located
in Elverson, PA. Ron’s bio is here.
This has been a pretty good
year for the ladies on the LPGA Tour. In 2012, the lady golfers have gotten to
see a wide swath of the world (maybe even more than they might have wanted),
they’ve expanded their sponsorships and tour stops and they’ve seen an
enthusiastic rotation of players on hot streaks.
American Stacy Lewis, a spry
lass of 27, just nailed down her fourth win of the year, and is now the No.2 player
in the world. Unlike the other multiple winners this year, Lewis spread her wins
across eight months. After the dominant Yani Tseng
cooled off in late spring, the wealth has been spread around more equitably.
But this post is not about
handicapping the top young U.S.A. talent, bemoaning the
still-late-arriving-but-still-on-its-way-mega-greatness of Michelle Wie, analyzing skirt length trends or the sad state of LPGA
Tour popularity. That’s because, for one, the Tour is not in so sad of a state.
The LPGA is experiencing a resurgence in sponsorships and ratings (according to some sources). And a recent interview with tour Commissioner Mike Whan hinted at
further expansion and new marketing initiatives for 2013.
The LPGA Tour expanded by
five tournaments in 2012, to 29 events worldwide. Granted, 14 of those events
are outside the mainland continental U.S. (Hawaii-1, South America-1, Mexico-1,
France-1, UK-1, Austrailia-1, Canada-2, Asia-6). But Commissioner Whan has embraced the global character of the ladies game,
boasting that other professional sports might be jealous of its international
reach. Feel free to take that for what it’s worth.
But the real impetus of this
post is that I feel it’s a shame that more male amateur golfers don't watch the
LPGA Tour more frequently. Not just for the pretty faces that now grace the Tour,
nor for Paula Creamer’s awesome pink wardrobe, but for the Tour’s instructional
aspect.
This feeling came to me
while I was glued to the epic playoff at the Kingsmill
Championship (in Williamsburg, VA) between Paula and Jiyai
Shin. Maybe it was the couch I was glued to for lack of motivation to clean the
gutters, but I was glad to catch it anyway. Watching the ladies there (and at
other tournaments this year) made me think about my own game and how I often
play too aggressively, with poor risk/reward ratios.
The top tier of the LPGA Tour
play at quite a consistently high level, especially tee to green. What struck
me most then, and at other times I’ve watched the ladies this year, was how few
mistakes the leaders make in managing themselves and the course. Creamer and
Shin matched pars for the eight straight times they played the
18th hole in the playoff.
There they were, time after
time, in the center of the fairway and the center of the green, time after
time. (Paula did make one sand save that I saw.) The pin was tucked back left,
behind a bunker and on a downslope. An aggressive line brought more danger than
benefit, so it was dutifully avoided.
In addition, the ladies
manage themselves well in a number of ways. When they get into trouble, they
make sure to get out first and foremost. They do not take unnecessary risks and
they never over-swing.
The men on the PGA Tour, on
the other hand, must go for birdies pretty much all the time to keep up with
the hot players of the week. Several factors contribute to this, including hole
length, equipment advances and course setup. For example, the green complexes
are often tiered, effectively creating four or five mini-greens that beg
aggressive play and punish conservative play.
But the LPGA game more
resembles the game you and I play, and our scores might see a few notches of
improvement if we managed our games the way the ladies do regularly. Sure, Michelle
Wie might be aggressive on par fives, but most LPGA players
know that playing safe just in front of a par-five green, for instance, will
pay long-term dividends on the scorecard. Greenside bunkers and long, tangled
rough just off the green make for frequent bogeys. And if you’re in the center
of most greens, two-putts are a cinch.
Ron Romanik is principal of
the brand and PR consultancy Romanik Communications (www.romanik.com), located in Elverson, PA. Ron’s bio is here.
It’s one of the indelible images of golf: Jack
Nicklaus picking up Tony Jacklin’s ball marker on the
18th green at Royal Birkdale Golf Club at the end of
the 1969 Ryder Cup. Like many avid golf fans, I had seen the key clips from
that Ryder Cup more than a few times and recognized "The Concession" as one of
the greatest, if not the greatest,
show of sportsmanship in the history of sport—at least since the lions
gave Daniel a pass inside their own den. Well, maybe that wasn’t sport per se.
The barest of facts of the matter make "The
Concession" a grand gesture. The U.S. held the Cup that year, so the U.S. only
needed a tie to retain it. The match was completely tied with Jack and Tony’s
singles match the only one left to be decided. Their match was tied going into
the final hole. After three shots each, Jack had a four-and-a-half foot par
putt and Tony had a two-foot part putt left. Jack made his putt and conceded
Tony’s putt, thereby concluding the Cup in a tie, acknowledging that the U.S.
had retained the Cup and sparing Tony any embarrassment if he missed the putt,
thereby losing both the individual match and the team match. Nice guy, nice
timing.
But as one digs deeper into the story, one
uncovers subplots that have not always been covered in depth. There were many
compounding circumstances that compelled Jack to make the gracious gesture, to
make it decisively and to leverage his role as statesman of the game itself.
One circumstance, the mere facts of the matter,
I’ve just covered. But just to reiterate: It wasn’t important
won
the Tony/Jack match, it was important who owned the Cup. That had already been
decided when Jack made his putt. In that regard, Tony’s putt was meaningless.
And in more practical terms, Tony’s ability to make the putt would not make him
a hero, but missing it would have made him a fall guy, the one to blame for the
loss.
I always thought one of the most amazing part
of the concession was how Jack so quickly picked up the coin after he holed out
his four-and-a-half footer. It was as if Jack was prepared for the moment well
ahead (maybe even holes ahead), and that he didn't hesitate, which might have
made the moment awkward or called extra attention to the gesture. He just
executed the moment.
I discovered that this was not an accurate assumption
on my part. In a recent history of the Ryder Cup, Jack admitted that it was a more spontaneous act. That doesn’t
diminish Jack’s ability to be completely aware of what was going on around him
and the import of his actions. He knew the exact score, the exact situation,
the gravity of the moment. He was completely prepared to do what he did, and
did it with a smile and quick handshake. We would all be better human beings if
we were as prepared for moments in life with the singularity and thoroughness
that Jack brought to the green that day.
Jack was always incredibly aware of everything
going on around him. He probably even knew that it might not be popular with
his teammates—but he didn’t care. At the time, though, Jack was as close
as anyone could become to being the embodiment of the game of golf itself. The
principles he had, one might say, where the principles of the game itself by
default. He was, at the time, the moral and ethical personification of the
game, and knew what was good for the game. If he did it, it was therefore the
right thing to do, ipso facto.
In fact, the concession was not popular among
all the other members of the U.S. team, nor its captain, Sam Snead. An outright
win meant a great deal to these players. And there were legitimate reasons for
the tension between the two teams that year—several loose-lipped comments
on both sides had ruffled feathers on opposing teams.
This was Jack’s first Ryder Cup, due to a PGA
eligibility rule that prevented him from participating earlier in the 1960s.
Jack was 29 and Tony, 25. Tony Jacklin was at the
height of his career, having won the Open Championship earlier that year, and
before the rollercoaster emotional decade that followed.
But the acrimony between the teams makes the
concession even more of an honorable gesture. It is just a game, after all, and
Samuel Ryder founded the Cup matches with the express purpose of promoting good
will between the U.S. and Great Britain, with no cash purse involved.
Another reason that the gesture was so grand
was that Jack’s personal feelings might have gotten in the way. Tony was
dominating golf that year, while Jack’s fortunes had temporarily faded. Tony
had drubbed Jack in the morning singles match 4&3, and in a four-ball match
the day before. So it would have been understandable if Jack had been out for
satisfaction, if not revenge, to show he could beat the current hottest player
fair and square. But Jack felt the moment was bigger than that.
Another point that may be up for debate is the
feeling that if you didn’t win convincingly, you didn't really win. Maybe Jack
felt that a half-point win was the same as a tie anyway, so what could be the
big deal. And how would making Tony putt that two-footer promote "good will"
anyway?
Tony was gracious to a fault, both at that
moment and ever since. He never complained about being deprived of his
opportunity to make that putt, because he appreciated the gesture for the
simple goal it meant to achieve: promote good will.
What you may not know is that Jack and Tony
designed a golf course together, a private club in Florida named The
Concession. Here’s Tony Jacklin talking about working
with Jack on The Concession Golf Course.
In this interview, Tony reiterated his feeling about the moment that he had
expressed many times before: "It was a wonderful sporting gesture. Something
certainly I’ll never forget."
One Side Note about Match Play:
What many golfers who are not familiar with the
rules of match play forget is that each player, or team, "controls" his opponent’s
ball, or balls (in four-ball). The Seve
Ballesteros/Tom Lehman episode on the 12th hole of the final day Ryder Cup
singles match in 1995 at Oak Hill gives a good illustration of what can happen
when players forget this fact.
Tom Lehman hit a putt to about two inches from
the cup. Seve still had a lengthy putt to negotiate, and
did not concede the two-inch putt of Lehman’s. Lehman looked at Seve for the concession several times, but getting no
affirmation, proceeded to putt out. In essence, though, Lehman played out of
turn.
Seve’s intention was misunderstood at that moment, both by Tom and the
gallery. It turned out he only wanted to use Tom’s ball mark as a aiming point
for his putt. He intended to concede Lehman’s putt after he putted out, but the
situation was a bit unfortunate. Seve didn’t think
anything of it while it was happening, because it was second nature that he had
"control" of Tom’s ball in match play.
Ron Romanik is
principal of the brand and PR consultancy Romanik
Communications (www.romanik.com),
located in Elverson, PA. His full bio is here.