The irony of my argument here is that the Greatest Open Champion Ever (G.O.C.E., if you will) earned that title by not becoming the "Champion Golfer" of 2009. He lost, instead, in an illegitimate playoff format.

 

(18 holes on Monday is the proper way to decide a Champion, and I am confident he would have fared much better there).

 

This man’s second place finish, though, should still be considered one of the greatest sporting achievements of all time. To some, though, that "loss" five years ago was very disappointing. I don’t quite understand this. Even Tom Watson himself bemoans his fate: "It was in my grasp, and it hurts, it really hurts. It was a huge disappointment."

 

But I ask you, how many golfers on this planet would not have gladly exchanged places with Mr. Watson at that moment? He had a glorious run that week, and at age 59! This week, at 64, he made the Open cut again at Royal Liverpool. 

 

And what was the final obstacle the thwarted his sixth Open title? A two-foot diameter "nose" on the front of the 18th green that deflected an otherwise perfect approach, and sent it careening off the back of the green.

 

But my real question is: Why would he, or anyone, now look back on that week with sadness or disappointment? Why not instead admire his performance in isolation and wonder at the amazing athletic and sporting feat that it was and always will be?

 

Watson does admit that he was comforted by the outpouring of support and notes thanking him for his inspiring performance. By why isn’t that the rule, rather than the exception in fans’ hearts and the media’s recollections? For many, he "lost."

 

Not to be melodramatic, but is this damning evidence of our societies’ ill-founded emphasis on "winning is the only thing"? (Thanks a lot, Red Sanders.) I, for one, don’t think it is human nature to look at the runner-up as the "first loser."

 

On this past Thursday evening, GolfChannel’ Kelly Tilghman introduced a segment on Tom Watson’s run in 2009 with a "sad face" grimace, saying: "It’s no exaggeration to say that he was on the verge of producing what could have perhaps been known as the greatest sporting accomplishment of all time." I posit that—win or lose—his accomplishment was equally as impressive—and great.

 

Other circumstances or facts could have made it truly tragic. If he hadn’t already won five Opens, for instance. If his career might be defined by this single losing event. Or if this loss irrevocably damaged his psyche in the prime of his career. But none of these scenarios apply.

 

I would prefer to look back on Watson’s performance as a crowning coda to a full and rewarding career. Or a swan song, victory lap, or farewell tour.

 

If you want golf drama that is truly tragic, I invite you to look back on the 1939 U.S. Open in Philadelphia. Sam Snead, by all reasonable estimations, should have won several U.S. Opens. He had the perfect opportunity to close out the deal on the final hole of the Philadelphia Country Club in 1939. A miscommunication may have caused Snead to be more aggressive than the situation required, and the snowman he carded on that hole took him out of contention. (Here’s a subjective list of the top 10 real U.S. Open disappointments.)

 

Perceptive readers will no doubt suspect that I have a soft spot for Mr. Watson. Watching him win his Opens as an adolescent, I was both fascinated by the traditions of the game and intrigued by the way the Scottish and English fans embraced their likeable American Champion. Too bad fans don’t raise golf champions on their shoulders anymore like they used to in Bobby Jones’ era. That would have been a fitting tribute for Mr. Watson.

 

I admired Watson for categorically conquering the quirky and whimsical nuances of the game in its original form that is, in many ways, foreign to the American style of play. And I always liked how the knowledgeable golf fans across the pond reacted to action with the right amount respect and gravity correspondent to the situation.

 

Of course, the crowd energy instantly deflated when they saw Watson’s approach to 18 skip through the green in 2009. The faithful had been pulling for him to win the whole week. And I won’t begrudge anyone for questioning his decision to use putter for his third shot. I might defer to the caddie, though, who believes 100% that the putter was the right choice.

 

But the larger begrudgement still remains. In my rewriting of history, the R&A never adopts the abomination of a four-hole playoff, allowing Watson glory on Monday. For the record, the R&A only abandoned the 18-hole playoff in 1985, two years after Watson won his fifth Open Championship. I’m sure he would have prevailed in a "real" playoff.

 

By the way, the ageless 64-year-old wonder shot 68 today at the Open in Liverpool, and finished at +1, three better than Stewart Cink. But Cink will always be able to brag about the crowning achievement of his career, the day he stared down a man 23 years his senior and trounced him fairly and squarely—for four holes.

 

Ron Romanik is principal of the brand, marketing, and packaging consultancy Romanik Communications (www.romanik.com), located in Elverson, PA. His full bio is here.

 

There are many reasons to pull for Bubba Watson as a favorite to win the U.S. Open. And there are a few reasons that I can understand that he might not be everyone's cup of "T," if you know what I'm getting at. His limited range of beverage choices aside, and his occasional temper tantrums aside, the best reason to love Bubba is his utter uniqueness. He is the John Daly of this era, a sort of anti- anti-hero.

 

Bubba's swing is an affront to all that the established golf elite wants to convince you about the golf swing. It's a self-made wonder that defies a great deal of logic, tradition, and physics. That is also effective at winning majors is an amazing bonus.

 

Winning the U.S. Open at Pinehurst would be the equivalent of a thumbed nose to tradition in a way that John Daly didn't even achieve at The Open Championship at St. Andrews, though Daly deserves all the kudos he receives. Some call Pinehurst the St. Andrews of America, and for good reason. The resort represents some of the best qualities of American golf. What a perfect place to throw shade over the stuffy ideals of the establishment. Instead of Waffle House for a victory breakfast the morning after, after a U.S. Open win, he should order Dominos delivered to the pressroom.

 

And Pinehurst just might be the ideal venue for a Bubba U.S. Open win. No rough at Pinehurst means it's possible to get lucky and find a few good lies in the waste areas the line the fairways. Bubba will also be able to hit less club off par-four tees to keep the ball in play.

 

But again, the fact that no golf teaching pro in the known universe would teach a swing like Bubba's is enough reason to root for him. And several corollary sub-reasons: 1) Bubba proves that established and fashionable teaching philosophies of the current and past ages are not the answer for everyone; 2) golf needs more personalities; 3) golf needs more creatively played shots; 4) he's not afraid to be whoever he wants to be; 5) he’s a lot more fun to watch than Adam Scott.

 

It was easy to shrug off Bubba before his second Masters win this year. Many, many top golfers have only one major. But now that he's got two under his white belt, and now that he's within striking distance of No. 1 in the world, he can no longer be dismissed so easily.

 

Simply said, I'm pulling for Bubba because he doesn't fit anyone's definition of a pro golfer. I like to pull for the underdog, the outsider, the misunderstood. He is all of those, and he has no reason to apologize.

 

In the picture here, Bubba has just hit one of the defining shots of his career. A shot only he would attempt. A shot only he could pull off in that situation. Okay, maybe Tiger and maybe Dustin Johnson could pull it off.

 

Nevertheless, Bubba’s follow-through at 13 at Augusta on Sunday epitomizes his appeal. After carving a high, controlled slice over the corner trees of the dogleg, his right foot has moved a full foot from its starting position. Just amazing. The shot came off, and Bubba was on his way to his second green jacket.

 

I'm rooting for Bubba because if he bucks tradition and wins the U.S. Open with his wild style, I can't wait to see the look on the faces of the USGA elite hell bound to protect an unnecessary level of decorum and tradition that can put casual golf fans off.

 

Which brings us to the idea of tradition and Pinehurst and the USGA. I hope this experiment in a "no-rough" open is not a one-off. The fact is, preparing U.S. Open courses with thick, high rough is a tradition that is not traditional. Well, that depends on your definition of tradition, I suppose, and how many years it take before something becomes traditional.

 

I believe the impossibly high rough trend took hold mid-20th century, when Hogan was at one of his peaks. He remarked after one U.S. Open round that he didn’t miss one fairway, but his shoes and pant cuffs were still soaking wet. This side anecdote illustrates the newness of the high rough concept, because they hadn’t yet realized that a walking path through the rough from tee to fairway made more than a little sense.

 

But tradition is, of course, not only a matter of years. If it were, major championship courses should be set up more rough-hewn and natural, like Scottish links courses. But if you believe that the USGA has started a valid new tradition with impossibly high and thick rough, I can grant you that as well, and that is their right.

 

Tradition is as much a consensus of "what is right." It would be quite a dramatic turnaround if the USGA would adopt a new Pinehurst-inspired model for most future U.S. Opens, but anything is possible. More likely, with the tanker-steering agility of the USGA, the tournament committee will gradually introduce more and more variety in their concept of rough in future venues.

 

And that bodes well for a future U.S. Open win for Bubba, that is, if he doesn’t win a British Open first and celebrate with a breakfast of haggis—or a KFC Double Down.

 

Ron Romanik is principal of the brand and PR consultancy Romanik Communications (www.romanik.com), located in Elverson, PA. His full bio is here.

 

What to get the golfer who has everything? Silly, useless knickknacks of course.

Luckily for everyone, one man has taken on the responsibility to collect links to every "Ridiculous Golf Item" he can find.

 

From the bizarre to the sublime, these items can clearly identify you as a golf fanatic, or just someone who likes to have a little fun, or someone who is just plain "off." Whether or not you wish to advertise to your boss where golf is on your priority list with a desktop golf curio is a separate issue you have to decide for yourself. Or, if you’re the gift giver, it might be a clever way to embarrass a golfer who would be compelled to actually use, say, a golf-bag-and-pull-cart golf-club pen set just because you gave it to them.

 

I have read that one of the fastest and easiest ways to endear yourself to a new colleague, acquaintance, or friend is to be self-deprecating. Golf, it turns out, provides countless opportunities for this, both on the course and off. These fun golf gift items add yet another layer to that noble life goal. Of course, constant self-deprecation can make you look pitiful, so beware of that fine line.

 

So, some of the items I’ve added to my Amazon Wish List are trays for making golf ball ice balls, a golf ball/golf club salt and pepper set, and a nylon golf ball spatula.

 

And if you’re a Caddyshack aficionado... yes, naked lady tees are a reality. You can also buy a Judge Smails fedora hat ("Looks good on you, though.") or an orange Bushwood CC baseball-style hat like Danny Noonan wore.

 

I already own one of these orange hats. And it’s good quality. But if you’re wondering... no, I haven’t had the courage to actually wear it on the course yet. It’s like wearing a bow tie on TV. Only a small percentage of the population can pull it off with style or grace.

 

The excuse I tell myself for not wearing the Bushwood hat is that it still looks too new, too bright orange, and too obvious. It’s a Catch-22: You have to wear it so it will look worn, but you don’t want to wear it and look obvious. Maybe I’ll run it over with my car a few dozen times or leave it out in the sun for a month.

 

So, I bought the hat in an effort not to take myself too seriously, and be endearingly self-deprecating. But I still can’t help but wonder if fellow golfers would see it as an innocent act of self-deprecation or a pitiful ploy for self-attention.

 

I imagine this is an ongoing internal struggle for many (or maybe not). Whereas I’m frequently self-deprecating on the course, both during idle teebox chatter and during my pitiful short game, in golf attire I’m much more conservative.

 

On second thought, in honor of Payne Stewart’s win at Pinehurst 15 years ago, I’m going to get me some tartan plus fours. I’ve toyed with the idea for decades, and now is the time. But you already know... whether I’ll actually wear them is a completely separate—and extremely heart-wrenching—moral dilemma.

 

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.

 

 

No, not "The Shark." The euphemistic shark expression is aimed at the redesigned and repositioned Golf Digest debuting in the June 2014 issue.

 

In recent months, Golf Digest has been edging toward an edgier tone, daring itself to follow through on its slogan promise of "Think Young, Play Hard," introduced over two years ago. But with the current issue, the magazine has fully committed to a new voice, a new attitude, and—one might deduce—a new audience.

 

That’s where this initiative gets dicey. If there were a resurgence of interest in the game among Millennials, for instance, this attitude adjustment might make sense. I’ve heard little buzz of this youthful sea change, nor seen any compelling data, but I might be out of the loop, so to speak.

 

Having been founding Editor-in-Chief of several magazines, I certainly appreciate the delicate balance between developing a strong voice and adapting with the times. Above all, though, a magazine’s voice must remain authentic. It is not authentic, for instance, if you have to ask yourself, or explain yourself, in your own magazine, time after time, why a certain person is on the cover.

 

In the current print issue, the Golf Digest editors ask "What’s Jimmy Fallon doing on my cover?" at the end of the Editor’s Letter (p. 24), almost hidden, in small, light green type, in the bottom right of the page. That is the headline that formally introduces the philosophy behind the material realization of the "Think Hard, Play Young" slogan. Sorry, reverse those.

 

But the "my" in this headline is not the projected reader; it is the personified magazine itself, as the New Golf Digest speaks to readers from the first person. A bit presumptuous, maybe?

 

He or she proceeds to some up his or her philosophies of golf and life in 140 words. As he or she reintroduces himself or herself, he or she turns out to be a complicated conundrum of contradictions, positing, for instance: "I like old U.S. Open venues but still enjoy my golf on a simulator." (Since this print introduction is not online but I find it interesting and amusing enough to "get" or "assess" the new Golf Digest, the complete text appears at the end of this post.)

 

In danger of sounding like an old fuddy-duddy (I swear, I’m not! I admire what mags like Golf Punk are trying to do!), I have to say that I already miss the authentic, authoritative tone of the old Golf Digest. Sure, it was a bit stuffy at times, but it was at least self-aware enough to acknowledge that fact with knowing, proverbial winks to the reader when appropriate.

 

But I’ll let you decide for yourself by listing here just a few objective, objectionable observations on the current June Issue:

 

  Camouflage patterns on golf clothing occur in two different parts of the issue. First on golf pants of Billy Horschel’s swing analysis spread, and then on two pair of shorts and a shirt (not together, thank God!) in a fashion spread titled: "Rock This."

 

-- A bare woman’s derriere. No, not Kate’s or Paulina’s. It appears in a full-page ad on page 23, for those keeping score at home.

 

-- This sentence appears in the magazine ("Ask Golf Digest"; page 80) about finding your ball out of bounds: "With rare exceptions, nobody goes back and reloads." Bad enough, yes. But even worse, there is also no accompanying encouragement to play provisional balls when in doubt.

 

-- One suggestion to revive your love of the game: "Listen to music while you play." Which, I suppose, goes well with the article in the June issue that would be least likely to appear in the "old" Golf Digest...

 

-- "Where There’s Smoke": An immersive study about smoking pot on the golf course. I grant that one welcome side effect of this trend would be the promotion of early evening golf, because, as the saying goes, it’s always 4:20 somewhere.

 

 

An obvious turn at this juncture would be to quote Bob Dylan, and I’m not above that, so there’s this apt snippet from "Ballad of a Thin Man": "Something is happening here, and you don’t know what it is. Do you, Conde Nast?"

 

Editor-in-Chief Jerry Tarde’s online "defense" of the new Golf Digest sounds desperate. You’re really not authentic when your explanation of why Jimmy Fallon is on the cover is "because he’s cool and golf is cool." And if Mr. Tarde believes that the new direction of the magazine makes Golf Digest "more surprising," well, it’s a tall order to be continually surprising month after month. Keep believing you can hit a 300-yard drive, under the right conditions. But you’re probably trying too hard.

 

Regardless of all my ranting, it comes down to the voice. To me, as anti-establishment as I am in my mind, Golf Digest always represented the establishment in some of the best ways. It was golf’s paternal conscience, to a degree. That was its role to play, and it often fulfilled its duty with elegant aplomb.

 

I could forgive many of old Golf Digest’s faults, because they were predictable and rooted in history and tradition. The magazine was an authority with a consistent level of integrity, and more than any of its competitors. That doesn’t mean that the integrity always led down righteous paths. There are infinite shades of gray in what constitutes "what’s best for the game of golf," and many opinions deserve to be heard, but integrity can be its own reward.

 

I already miss the exhaustive major tournament previews, the hand wringing over minor changes in the game, and the historical perspective that informed many articles. Golf is a game that is always enriched by looking to the past. I will have to find these articles elsewhere now.

 

There are many, many more observations that I could make about the design elements of the new Golf Digest, the length and depth of editorial content, and the compromises that publishers must make with advertisers these days. And these observations would not all be negative, by all means.

 

However, one sin that compelled me to cancel a magazine subscription previously is when a dramatic redesign made the editorial look and feel far too much like the ads on the opposite page. Having the two pages look distinctly different does not necessarily reduce the eye-time on the ads, as Conde Nast seems to believe. In fact, making them look the same may have the opposite effect—that the reader suspects neither the ad nor the editorial on a two-page spread are worth closer inspection, and quickly moves on.

 

To end on a positive note, I do like the new stencil-type Golf Digest banner logo. And I mean it. I admire design that blends modern and traditional seamlessly. If only the rest of the magazine could follow through on that promise.

 

Here’s the print "Introduction" to the "New Golf Digest":

The mantra for Golf Digest is Think Young, Play Hard. With our redesign of the June issue, that spirit comes to every page. I’m taken with the way youth, surprise, humor, edginess, innovation and athleticism can energize the game. I love 18 or 36 holes but sometimes have only 30 or 90 minutes. I like old U.S. Open venues but still enjoy my golf on a simulator. I want the right to wear cargo shorts, but frankly I’m into performance apparel. Love my smartphone because it lets me escape the office, can’t stand guys who make phone calls on-course. Life is all about my buddies and me, trying to play better and trash talking like Tiger and Duf. State of the art doesn’t equal stodgy. It also doesn’t ignore sexy—as Arnie taught us. Welcome to the new Golf Digest.

 

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.

 

Bonus: What was your favorite Golf Digest logo design? Check out some of them in the Golf Digest "Cover Gallery" of celebrities through the years.

 

Every year after The Players, I consider the tournament’s merits and its place in the pantheon of great tournaments, just for fun. I really want to know why the hype seems to overshoot the reality in retrospect.

 

It’s fitting that TPC Sawgrass is the PGA headquarters, because the closing three holes is the prototype for PGA Tour stops nowadays. Lots of water on the closing holes makes for "dramatic" finishes. Even Doral didn’t have enough water before 2014.

 

Of course, The Players is exciting. It has all that water. And excitement is what TV is all about. Fine.

 

Yes, there have been some great shots, chips, and putts under pressure that have won The Players tournament. Fine.

 

Sure, it has one of the best fields by purely world rankings criteria. That makes it competitive. Fine.

 

But when I think back from a Monday armchair quarterback position, all I can remember are three holes. It’s like the first 15 holes are just window dressing. Or a pregame show.

 

I’ve been watching golf on TV for 40 years now. I can describe the nuances of almost every hole at Merion, Olympic, Augusta, Oakmont, St. Andrews, Muirfield, Muirfield Village. But, at this very moment, I can’t tell you anything about holes 1-15 at Sawgrass. As soon as the week is over, those holes fade out of memory. Or, more accurately, those holes get jumbled up in my memory to become indistinct.

 

(To be completely honest, the par-three 13th is one that I have begun to find memorable in the last few years. So, let’s say 14 of 18 holes fade out of memory.)

 

I challenge you: Without looking up the scorecard, describe the nuances of the 10th hole at Sawgrass. Now describe the nuances of the 10th hole at Augusta. Exactly my point.

 

Just my personal taste, but give me more "interesting" holes instead of "exciting" holes and "dramatic" finishes.

 

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.

 

It’s the end of an era. Admit it, you feel it too. There’s an aching void that—you suspect—will never again be filled. And you’re right.

 

It’s okay to admit it. Let yourself mourn. Tiger is on the way out. Not "done," per se, but moving toward the door.

 

The Masters this past weekend had an empty feeling to it. Of course, Tiger has missed majors before. But it’s different this time. Life and the game are moving on. Even if he comes back, expectations will be different. You’ll be happy to see some continued success, but you won’t expect magic every time like in the past.

 

And all good things do come to an end. His standard was impossibly high. The wins and the majors were one thing, but the rabbit-out-of-the-hat shots were out of this world. David Feherty once said: "Of the 10 best shots I ever saw, Tiger hit eight of them." That was some time ago, by now he might adjust those numbers to be 18 of the best 20.

 

His imprint on the game is permanent, even if he never plays again. And part of me wishes he’d consider that. Maybe it’s time to move on to greater challenges in new arenas. In the winter of 1997, before his first Masters win, I wondered if Tiger wouldn’t grow tired of the game, as it can become tedious if you can no longer achieve previous heights of mastery. Two of the greats—Bobby Jones and Byron Nelson—walked away while they were still competitive.

 

It's a sad feeling, and I promised myself that I would never stop predicting incredible achievements from the man until I saw the writing on the wall. Well now it feels as if the metaphorical wall-writer is uncapping his pen. Previously, whenever someone would so carelessly imply that a "slump" meant washed-up, I'd quickly retort: "He'll be back...just you wait and see."

 

In that same missive I wrote in 1997, I wrote: "The look in Tiger’s eyes has an intensity that I’ve seen only a couple of times before. To me, it appears that winning isn’t enough; he wants to drive his opponents into submission, to bury any doubts of his supremacy, to lap the fields of mortals, and to reveal the weaknesses of his opponents so that they’ll limp home broken men." He no longer has that intensity, and I miss it.

 

Of course, I was being hyperbolic to make a point of the greatness that was already unfolding in Tiger’s charge up the golf rankings. Tongue-in-cheek, I pressed hyperbole to satirize the blind adulation and undeserved idolization of some sports fans: "We are witnessing the flowering of a talent so pure and honed, and a spirit so competitive and fiery, that analogies to other sports legends may very quickly become tired and insufficient."

 

But back to present day and the realities of now. The truth is that many questions still remain. If he comes back, how much will he "adjust" to take care of his body and avoid further injury? He has already scaled back his game to a large degree. I don't have much interest in watching Tiger play at 80 percent, as I wouldn't have much interest in watching John McEnroe or Jimmy Connors at 80 percent, either.

 

And how many small injuries and aches and pains are there that we don’t know about? Heck, he kept a broken bone a secret for three months leading up to the 2008 U.S. Open. And what toll did the Navy SEAL training take on his body?

 

It’s sad but also liberating. I don't feel compelled to defend Tiger's greatness anymore. And I never thought I'd say this: I don't think he will surpass Jack's record. And I have a reason I can use in polite conversation. The human body has limits, and Tiger has exceeded them too many times.

 

Not that Tiger isn't the greatest to ever play the game. He is. There's really no question. But I won't feel the need to explain why. If you witnessed the bulk of Jack's and Tiger's careers, you have eyes. And if you still doubt, just review tape again.

 

So where do we go from here? This past week at the Masters was a fun ride. Youth, experience, and a wild man with an uncanny feel in his hands. Bubba is a mix of Paul Bunyan and John Henry, a perfect antidote to the stuffiness of Augusta National.

 

Why Bubba can't win elsewhere on tour is a bit of a puzzler, but not really. A long driver has a big advantage at Augusta National because off-target drives are not penalized severely.

 

There are lots of great young players, no doubt. I still have high expectations of Rory, and Jordan Speith is incredibly solid for his age.

 

But Tiger will be a side show. And that's okay. Now is the time for the PGA Tour to put effort into the defining characteristics of the main show. Does the Tour merely determine who is hot—or gets the good bounces—that week? Is it just a putting contest? Does the game have to be presented so one-dimensionally?

 

I used to be a pretty staunch traditionalist. I’m growing less conservative with age—about golf, at least. The game should be fun, it should be easy and fast to play, and you shouldn’t feel like you’re at a boarding school when you play.

 

There is also room to improve the watch-ability of the game, and there are ways to bring out the personalities of the players (and the "Golf Boys" is not what I mean). It's time to innovate now, because Tiger's ability to draw will continue to slide. I once dreaded the Fox network taking over the reins of the U.S. Open. Now, I’m thinking: "Let’s see what they can do."

 

I can't see Tiger winning more than two majors in a single season, but there's no doubt he can still win one or two here or there. But five more is a tall order for a man nearing 40 with all the injuries his body has withstood, and will continue to withstand.

 

It was a good run, and it was fun to watch, but change is the only inevitable in life. To quote the poet Percy Shelley, "Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability."

 

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.

 

So we can go into The Masters with a clear conscience, let us pose imponderable questions that will cleanse us of the doldrums of the harsh winter and allow us to embrace the harbinger of spring and rebirth that is the coming weekend, the most elegant of sporting events that humanity has ever devised.

 

Who will win? Easy one...a first-timer. There are 24 first-timers; however, only 18 are professional first-timers. I’m going with Patrick Reed, currently top five in the world rankings in his head.

 

Does anyone know why the @PatrickReedsEgo account on Twitter was suspended? And what, exactly, does "Account Suspended" mean? Does it mean it might be back? I didn’t realize Twitter had such a strict Code of Conduct. The tweets were pretty funny, if whoever was writing them is listening. A couple other similar accounts have popped up, but they’re not as good. Other funny "fake" Twitter accounts to check out are @TweeterAlliss, @TheFakeESPN, @PeytonsHead, @FauxJohnMadden, @FakeGrantland, and—for the philosophically minded, @KimKierkegaardashian.

 

Can someone explain why it’s so important to emphasize that "No one who won the par-three competition on Wednesday has gone on to win The Masters that weekend"? It’s not a jinx! Sheesh!

 

How easy is it to write an article about how golf is an elitist sport, replete with free-flying conjecture and scant facts? As easy as asking Philip Bump, a political writer at TheWire.com (a sister site for The Atlantic magazine) to elaborate on how the Paulina Gretzky Golf Digest cover is just the tip of the iceberg of golf’s problems.

 

I made the mistake of not reading it as satire, which would have at least made it more enjoyable, even though it was not intended as such. The comments are better than the article (no surprise) as many share their own experiences playing many rounds with "regular" folks. And this zinger: "The author's conception of who plays golf in 2014 seems to come from a hazy recollection of watching Caddyshack in the 80s."

 

Is golf show anchor Ryan Burr a robot? His Golf Channel bio does not address this question, and the ESPN alumnus’ only golf credential shows up in the last sentence of his bio as "an avid golfer since his high school playing days." I was skeptical at first, but he’s beginning to prove otherwise by showing he can think on his feet. And I have to give him the benefit of the doubt, because it’s difficult to rid oneself of that annoying ESPN spit-polish.

 

Does anybody know if the Playboy girl who used her butt as a tee and filed a lawsuit over the incident is fully recovered? More accurately, she had a tee sticking out of her butt. And whatever happened to the Golden Rule and turning the other cheek? Like all the click-bait articles these days, it was easy to miss a few details. The incident actually happened in March 2012, but the lawsuit only came to light recently. "Comedian" Kevin Klein swung the club, forgetting to choke up sufficiently. He responded to the media exposure on Twitter: "I would like to take this moment to set the record straight with the media: I've never claimed to be a comedian." But he does try hard, and occasionally does succeed, to be funny: "When I type anything that doesn't auto fill, I immediately abandon my search." I’m with him on that.

 

Can anyone identify the poor soul who was caught on tape on the 14th tee at Broad Run? After a poor drive, he breaks his club and then... well, it’s worth a quick look. After all, the moment is now preserved in infamy in an "Epic Fail" YouTube video.

 

Why is Donald Trump such a jerk? (No need to answer, it’s a rhetorical question.) He just can’t resist when someone baits him into a kerfuffle, like Mark Cuban did recently about if The Donald has enough cash to buy the Buffalo Bills. The Donald reacted by attacking Cuban’s golf game, which Cuban claims is non-existent, literally. Cuban claims he never ever played. Even ad hominem ad nauseum, stay Trumptastic.

 

Will Michelle Wie ever play the Masters? I say yes. I predicted her resurgence here. And after her strong second-place finish at Kraft Nabisco Championship, if she doesn’t win three tournaments this year, I’ll be shocked...and embarrassed.

 

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.