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Wake up Woods and Nicklaus? Hogan was the most dominant
Miscellaneous musings from an astonishing PGA Championship: Tiger Woods has now won as many majors as Phil Mickelson, David Duval, Colin Montgomerie, Sergio Garcia, Darren Clarke, Lee Westwood, Davis Love, Fred Couples, Justin Leonard, Tom Lehman and Hal Sutton combined. How sick is that? ... Though Tiger's Jack Nicklaus fetish has long been noted, perhaps it is time for him to aim a little higher. Jack's career is the model for longevity, but Ben Hogan played the most dominant golf in the game's history. Beginning with 1948 PGA Championship and ending at the British Open in '53, Hogan won eight of the 11 major championships he played in, the most sustained period of excellence golf has ever known. With wins in four for his last five majors, Woods is only halfway there. ... Thank Hogan we don't have to suffer through any more Nicklaus requiems. It's been painful watching him this year, although I did like the symmetry of his pairing with Woods at the PGA. A quiet moment on Thursday was kind of cute: On the 8th hole, a 166-yard par-3, Woods had honors, and he played a clever little shot short of a troublesome hollow that bisects the green, content to leave himself a 12-footer for birdie rather than try to force a risky shot closer to the flag. Nicklaus followed with the identical shot, his ball actually ricocheting softly off of Woods' up on the putting surface. Nicklaus had swung a six-iron, and, curious what club the kid had hit, he began flashing fingers at Woods. Seven digits were displayed, and Woods shook his head. Eight fingers now. Woods shook his head again and let out a sheepish laugh. How about nine fingers now. Woods buried his face in his hands, and his body shook with laughter. Yes, he had hit a nine-iron. ... Isee a lot of Hogan in Woods, who -- like his predecessor -- is obsessive-compulsive. Tiger claims to iron even the clothing that comes straight from the dry cleaner's. Hogan would only buy his famous white caps at one particular store on Park Avenue in New York. He also used to put his golf balls under a magnifying glass, looking for excess paint in the dimples. Last week Woods lamented that his putting was off -- yes, the putts were dropping, but the sound they were making as they fell into the cup was not quite satisfactory. I thought that was the most hilarious thing I'd heard in a while. ... I hope Bob May sticks around longer than Brian Watts did. ... There is already a schism of opinion about whether or not it will constitute a Grand Slam if Tiger wins the Masters next year. Tiger said Sunday night that he thinks it is, but I'm here to tell you "hell, no!" The magic of a Slam is that the achievement is contained within one season, with the tension building as the year goes on. You don't back into a Grand Slam. ... I like all those supertalented, fat Europeans -- i.e. Darren Clarke, Lee Westwood and Colin Montgomerie (whose weight fluctuates more than Oprah Winfrey's) -- but it is increasingly clear they're never going to make the sacrifices necessary to compete with Woods. They don't practice much, they don't play in the United States enough and they certainly don't train hard enough. On the night before the PGA began Clarke, Westwood and a couple of friends went out to Louisville's best restaurant and, according to the Courier-Journal, ordered: two bottles of cabernet sauvignon; caviar with sourmash bourbon blinis; free-range eggs scrambled with fried foie gras; and entrees that included top sirloin marinated in unfiltered bourbon sauce, rack of lamb and a pork chop marinated in bourbon. They did, however, skip dessert. ... Amidst all the hysteria Tiger is so blasé it's almost funny. With a Presidential campaign raging, he makes the cover of Time magazine -- and has this to say: "From what I have been told, it is a pretty great honor, but I guess I may not have the perspective that I should." ... Except for the time my gal and I walked up Carmel beach in the moonlight and then fooled around on the 10th green of Pebble Beach Golf Links, I have never had as much fun on a golf course as I did on Sunday at the PGA, following the insane back nine and playoff from inside the ropes. I literally got goose bumps on one occasion (when May stuck that eight-iron to two feet on 12), and when Tiger drilled that putt on 18 to force the playoff, the hair on my arm stood up on end. What a tournament. ... Is it really eight months until the Masters?
Sports Illustrated golf writer Alan Shipnuck will take you On Tour each week at golfplus.cnnsi.com. Click here to send Alan a question or a nice, friendly comment.
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