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Giving thanks for the 2000 season

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Now that the LPGA Tour's Arch Championship is in the books, we can officially declare an end to one of the most momentous seasons in golf history. It's traditional at year's end to produce endless lists of tripe, the kind of lists celebrating who did what to whom and by how many. I'm not clever enough to transcend the mandate, but with a nod to the impending holiday, I thought I'd at least modify the format. So, I'm thankful ...

... that I don't have to watch Annika Sorenstam putt for at least a couple of months.

MAIL CALL My favorite bit of correspondence this week comes from Carl L. Goodwin of Marietta, Ga., who offers only two words, in all caps: "YOU SUCK!" It's almost Hemingway esque in its power and brevity. I shall continue to refer back to this marvelous bit of prose for inspiration. As sure as the wind blows, from across the Great Divide, there was an avalanche of e-mail from Canucks gloating about the recent success of Mike Queer, uh, Weir. Predictably, only one showed any kind of sense of humor. Booly to you, Mike McAllister of Kanata, Ont., who writes, "Sorry to say, but Weirsy's success may spawn a whole new level of interest in golf up here -- even though our season lasts only a couple of weeks in July. While our swings are restricted by the almighty doughnut and our scores are marginalized by our wont to concede putts of considerable length due to our overwhelming need to be polite, the Great White North will produce Weir, after Weir, after Weir. After all, he must have become the great ball-striker he is today because of all those slap shots he took up against his parents' garage door, no?" From the Aspiring Stalker Dept.: David Russell of Los Angeles writes, "I can't find a picture of that female Italian (?) golfer. I think her name is Rocca, but I can't remember. Can you tell me where I can get a picture of her? Thanks." Sure, bud -- just go to www.europeantour.com and look up Rocca. You'll be in for quite a shock to the system. From the Shameless Plug Dept.: After our previous correspondence with Brian from Atlanta, I dropped him a galley copy of my forthcoming book Bud, Sweat and Tees: A Walk on the Wild Side of the PGA Tour. The day I dumped it in the FedEx bin Brian wrote in, "Can I get that galley posthaste so I can get my review out on my Web site before publication and before God and the world have read about it?" He also sent a separate e-mail demanding I sign the galley. With that sense of entitlement, he ought to be a sportswriter.

... that Dottie Pepper isn't mad at me.

... for Grace Park. All of her.

... for Ken Venturi. Retiring.

... that I stayed in school. Or else I might have wound up like David Gossett.

... that I got to see Hank Kuehne launch a golf ball before he went under the knife. Hurry back, Hank, golf needs more characters like you. Just be sure to leave Paula Abdul behind.

... for the new golf boom in and around L.A. Haven't heard of Lost Canyons yet? You will.

... that it took Arnold Palmer 70 years to get on Callaway's payroll. Otherwise, his legend would have been tarnished that much sooner.

... for the final round of the 2000 PGA Championship.

... for Tim Finchem's law degree. It gives us hope that he may yet be able to pacify young master Woods.

... that Duffy Waldorf is 38, and hopefully only has a few years left.

... for Tiger's maniacal need for world domination. While his ostensible competition is going fishing, he's going to Spain, Bangkok and Buenos Aires.

... for Pasatiempo, where I'm playing in a couple of weeks.

... for Padraig Harrington's squeaky voice, which, next to the sound of Tiger smashing a drive, is the best sound in golf.

... that I live in Southern California. High today: 79 degrees, and the ball was carrying nicely.

... that Seve Ballesteros's design career has effectively been ended by the 17th at Valderrama.

... for Carlos Franco. He may not speak a lick of English, but he still has more personality than most guys on tour.

... that Tom Kite, Tom Watson and Lanny Wadkins were flops on the Senior tour. Which just goes to show you, there are no gimmes in golf.

... that playing golf is a lot more fun than watching golf movies. Although I have to say Charlize Theron would make a great cart girl.

... that my boss didn't ask me to attend the Golf 20/20: Vision for the Future seminar last week at the World Golf Village. I would've hated having to resign.

... that Larry Nelson is finally getting his due.

... that Becky Iverson has started wearing a collared shirt.

... that John Daly has stopped wearing those SWAT-team-looking vests.

... that, though I long ago forgot the elements of the periodic table, I have intimate knowledge of tungsten, titanium, beryllium, copper, forged alloys and a bunch of other stuff that make really cool toys.

... that Monty will be wearing a mike at the Skins Game.

... for the new Sleeping Bear Press release, Alister MacKenzie's Cypress Point Club. Better than a dirty magazine.

... that golf is now cool enough to be using Moby as the soundtrack for its commercials.

... for the On Tour readership, the saltiest bunch of golf fans in the global village. Otherwise I'd be softer than Tim Herron by now.

Click here to send Alan Shipnuck a question or a nice, friendly comment.

 

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