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Anyone have a ladder? Our reporter found that following Tiger can be tough
By Yi-Wyn Yen, Sports Illustrated ST. ANDREWS, Scotland -- I have a newfound appreciation for all the suckers who pay good money to watch a major championship. I thought watching Tiger Woods and David Duval together in the final pairing of the British Open at St. Andrews would be way cool until I decided to go undercover as an armband-less civilian. As a golf reporter, I'm used to following players inside the ropes, especially at major championships. I'm not used to spending time in the trenches and not being able to see anything. All this time, I've been attending golf tournaments, I've been oblivious to the nightmare fans endure. It was time to watch the two best players in the world try to outplay each other from outside the ropes. It was time -- gulp -- to slum it. In hopes of securing a good spot, I headed to the first tee about 20 minutes before Woods and Duval were expected to tee off. I tried to nudge to the front of the ropes, and got as close as the guy behind the guy behind the guy. Despite wearing shoes with two-inch padding and standing on the tips of my toes, I only saw to the back of one very hairy neck. At quick glance, it appeared at least 10,000 were following the final group of the day. The Royal and Ancient must have some gallery height requirement because it seemed all 10,000 were taller than me, too. After what I figured were two perfect drives down the middle, I rushed to the next vantage point -- a knoll adjacent to the first green. Through binoculars, I zoomed in on what appeared to be Woods' oversized teeth. I wasn't sure why he was laughing after making a par. Perhaps he and Duval were reminiscing about their Showdown at Sherwood adventure. I could only assume. It took 30 minutes before I witnessed my first golf shot. Woods hit his approach to within 10 feet of the third hole, but Duval, sticking it within a few feet of the pin, came away with a birdie. I was so grateful I finally saw something that I didn't mind that I missed Woods make birdie on the next hole. I did manage to catch him lift his putter towards the sky and point his finger at the hole though. But by the eighth hole, my interest began to wane. I saw a man pee into a gorse bush and a fat man scratch his folded-over gut from under his shirt, but I had not seen a single shot in more than an hour. The thousands of fans walking along the unpaved road were kicking up a serious dust storm and irritating my contacts. The heather was making me sneeze. I was tired of having old ladies push me out of the way for a front-row spot. So, by the time Duval made two straight birdies to get within three shots of the lead after seven holes, I was about to call it quits. My colleague Alan Shipnuck told me to quit whining and tough it out through the next few holes since we could stand in one spot. As a first-timer to the Old Course, watching golf can get confusing and certainly takes some getting used to. From a spectator's view, the fairways, tee boxes and greens, melt into a long, sinewy train. The course lacks rough to define one hole from another. The front nine, which heads away from the clubhouse, is marked with yellow pins to differentiate from the back nine, which heads back to the clubhouse, marked with red pins. It gets especially confusing to watch balls fly from opposite directions onto one massive green. Seven double greens are shared among 14 holes. Watching golf at the Loop, holes seven through 11, is perhaps the most disorientating. The seventh and 11th holes, which crisscross, share a double green as well as the eighth and 10th, played from opposite sides. I tried to watch Ernie Els tee off on the 11th, Tom Lehman putt on the 10th, Darren Clarke and Thomas Bjorn hit into the ninth green all at the same time. It was like watching traffic flow on the L.A. freeway system. The frenetic scene died quickly when Woods and Duval arrived at the 10th tee. The entire gallery of 5,000 fans all seemed to be holding their breaths to watch Woods attempt to drive the par-4. Even Clarke and Bjorn leaned over the edge of the 11th tee box to catch a glimpse before hitting. To the delight of the crowds, Woods drove the front edge of the 379-yard 10th and made birdie to take his lead to four. By then, I felt satisfied that I had done my duty watching golf with the masses, so I began my two-mile walk back to the press tent from the farthest point on the course. After Woods and Duval hit their last tee shots, I returned to the mosh pit on the 18th where a bunch of fans leaped over Swilcan Burn. For the first time, I joined the several thousand fans who attempted the storm up the 18th fairway, a yearly tradition at the British Open. A marshall kept screaming at everyone to walk slowly or else they might kill someone. We got as far as 200 yards from the hole when a fully nude brunette streaked across the green and did a strip tease dance around the pin. The streaker received the loudest applause of the day. The second loudest went to Woods after he completed the Grand Slam with a record 19-under 269. Now that I was an outsider looking in, it really didn't seem all that weird.
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