The Week: Take Your Pick

If form holds, an eclectic mix will contend at St. George's

By Gary Van Sickle

In '93 players with a wide range of styles topped the leader board. John Iacono GOLF PLUS EXTRA Big Play: Jim Suttie TRUST ME With six months to prepare, players and manufacturers will take every conceivable precaution to make sure that not a single nonconforming driver turns up when the Tour begins voluntary testing. NEXT UP PGA Tour: Greater Milwaukee Open Champions Tour: Ford Senior Players Championship LPGA Tour: BMO Finanical Group Canadian Women's Open PGA European Tour: Barclays Scottish Open INSTANT POLL Which 2003 major was the best? The Masters The U.S. Open The British Open The PGA View Results

Whatever happened to European golf? Thank God (and the Queen, old boy) for the Ryder Cup because those biennial upsets are all that's left of Euro credibility. There is only one European among the top 14 in the World Ranking -- Padraig Harrington, who's eighth. Europe's old Big Six (Nick Faldo, Seve Ballesteros and the rest) have given way to the Deep-Sixed: Colin Montgomerie, who's barely a whiny diversion anymore; Lee Westwood, no longer the subject of "what's-wrong-with-Lee?" stories because his slump is now three years old; Jesper Parnevik, whose clothes get more attention than his faltering game; Sergio García, whose swing changes may be akin to whitewashing the Sistine Chapel's ceiling; Darren Clarke, who has gone through more putters than cigars; and Harrington, a nice guy who always seems to finish second.

As golf's focus now shifts across the Atlantic, it seems a dreadfully long four years since Paul Lawrie won the British, the last major taken by a European. Perhaps three major championships in three weeks in Britain will buck up sagging Euro spirits. They start with next week's British Open at Royal St. George's, in southeast England, where the lads will be hoping for a repeat of last year's weather-induced smackdown of Tiger Woods. The British Senior Open tees off the following week at Turnberry's Ailsa course in Scotland, undoubtedly the most scenic of the venues on the Open rota. The magical mystery tour makes its final stop at Royal Lytham and St. Annes in Blackpool, England, for the Women's British Open. The latter two events are fairly new to major championship status, and elevating them was a shrewd, logical move. Yes, it's true -- the seniors and the LPGA got something right.

The British Open will revolve around Woods. Coming off his blowout win at the Western Open, he's the obvious favorite, but didn't we say the same thing before the Masters, following his 11-shot victory at Bay Hill? Royal St. George's is quirkier than Michael Jackson, loaded with humps and bumps, tilted fairways, blind shots and zigzaggy greens, making it a unique challenge. You have to use your head at St. George's, and Woods has the best head in the game. Plus, he hasn't won a major in four tries, and he's tired of talking about it.

Everything points to Woods except this: 2003 has been the Year of the Grinder. Mike Weir seemingly made every putt inside 15 feet at the Masters, and Jim Furyk gave a fairways-and-greens clinic at the U.S. Open. When Royal St. George's last hosted the British, in '93, the course favored no one style of play. The diverse contenders included ball strikers such as Greg Norman (who won with a sizzling 64 in the final round), Faldo, Nick Price and Fred Couples, as well as grinders such as Bernhard Langer and Corey Pavin. So if Woods doesn't show up with his A game, another point-to-point player could contend. David Toms, who has quietly won twice this year and is a contender for the title of second-best American, might be that man. Or it could be Peter Lonard of Australia, a world-class wind player who could benefit from any wild English weather.

And, yes, there's hope for Europe. Our pick is an Englishman who, as a 17-year-old amateur, dramatically holed out from the rough to tie for fourth at Royal Birkdale in '98. Now 22, Justin Rose is a superstar in waiting. Good luck, and God save the Queen.

O.B.: He Got the Fax Wrong