|
|
 |
 |   |
|
EVENTS Fantasy Central Inside Game Video Plus Statitudes Your Turn Message Boards Email Newsletters Golf Guide Cities 
CNNSI.com GROUP
COMMERCE
|  |
European vocation
VALENCIA, Spain -- It happens every spring, a virulent virus known as P.A.S. -- Post-Augusta Syndrome. You know the symptoms: mediocre tournaments, frazzled players taking month-long siestas while pouting about having lost the Masters, burnt out sportswriters, etc., etc. In the interests of servicing our readership during this dark, depressing time, I proposed to my editors a three-week sojourn to the European tour. That the weeks in question comprised the open championships of Spain, Portugal and France was merely coincidence. To my utter astonishment, the skeptical stewards back in the office gave me the OK, which is how, last week, I wound up gorging myself on paella, bathing in sangria, and covering a very entertaining Spanish Open. The first thing you should know about the European PGA tour is that it is not the U.S. PGA Tour. It is a kinder, gentler place. Stepping onto the grounds of one of its run-of-the mill events is like traveling back in time to when golf was just a nice little sport that no one cared about. In Spain there were no corporate fairs at the front entrance of the club, where hucksters would have offered free granola bars had I provided my entire financial history. Nobody wanted to do a club fitting on the spot. It was golf, no chaser. Once you begin to wander the grounds you realize that the atmosphere is so relaxed it is barely to be believed. There were no grandstands on any hole at El Saler Golf Course, just a lot of people hanging out, sitting in the grass. In fact, on Thursday there were two puppies playing in the rough on the right side of the 18th hole, and no one seemed to mind. In sum, the galleries are smaller, the players more jovial, the food is more exotic, as are the female volunteers. The Euro tour is a great place to do business, despite the little inconveniences.
Unlike on the PGA Tour -- which, thanks to a sponsorship deal with IBM, has instantaneous computerized scoring -- everything in Spain was done by hand. Volunteers were stationed behind the green every three holes, and they'd simply ask the players or caddies for their scores, then walkie-talkie the numbers to tournament HQ. There can be up to a half an hour lag in the dissemination of scores, but, again, no one seemed to mind. As for the golf course itself, you often hear a lot of slagging of the tour's courses, especially the Continental venues. Well, El Saler is one of the best tracks I've ever laid eyes on. Designed by Javier Arana, the doyen of Spanish architects, it was an absolute revelation -- half tactical parkland, cut through dense pines and dotted with steep-faced pot bunkers, and half wondrous linksland, with sinuous fairways set amidst towering dunes made all the more telegenic, and problematic, by thick swaths of iceplant. El Saler has occasionally made cameos in the top 50 of various world 100 rankings. It is a sick joke that Valderrama -- with its goofy doglegs and Mickey Mouse 17th hole -- is considered a better golf course. The only explanation is that Valderrama has had much wider exposure. El Saler's only previous brushes with the big-time came in hosting a pair of Spanish Opens, in 1984 and 1989, both won by Bernhard Langer. (His final-round 62, to steal the '84 title, is considered one of the two or three best rounds in the history of the Euro tour). El Saler is so beloved that when it was named the host course for the 2001 Open a couple of months ago, in a last-minute venue change, Darren Clarke immediately committed. "El Saler is one of the best courses in Europe, bar none," said the man who calls Royal Portmarnock home. If the course was the star of the week, much of the daily intrigue centered around the Spanish Armada on hand -- Olazabal, Jimenz, Garcia and Ballesteros were all present, accounting for most of the tournament's star power. Since 1972 Seve is the only Spaniard to win his national championship, and no wonder -- the pressure is tremendous. After his opening 69 I asked Sergio how much emphasis he places on the Spanish Open. "For me, it is the fifth most important tournament in golf," said El Nino, who lives just up the coast from El Saler, in a 60 million peseta home. Sergio made the task all the more difficult when, two days before the tournament began, he lashed out at the Spanish media for its inquisition of his father. Victor Garcia is the only teacher who has ever presided over his son's swing, and Sergio's lack of development -- he hasn't won a thing since the German Masters in October of '99 -- has led numerous Spanish commentators to call for Victor to stand down and let a more renowned instructor take over. "I want criticism of my father to stop," Sergio railed in his pre-tournament press conference. "He is hurt by it. When are you going to stop blaming him? If you want to blame somebody for my form, blame me." This outburst led to a two-inch headline splashed across El Mundo Deportivo: "Dejen en Paz a mi Padre" -- Leave my Father in Peace. Alas, Sergio should have said, Leave my putting stroke in peace. He yipped his way to a second-round 73 and was never in contention after that. By then his countrymen had hijacked the headlines. Olazabal doubled the 16th and then bogeyed 18 on Friday to miss the cut by a stroke. Seve, meanwhile, had done some pruning of an innocent iceplant during a first-round 76, which led to an audience with the tournament director. Later in the afternoon he issued an apology, sort of, saying that, while he was sorry he had lost his temper, a far worse blow to the tour's image is that so many players openly smoke during competition. This curious leap of logic led to such a merciless razzing that Friday afternoon, after missing the cut, the Great Man entertained questions with a delightful mock enthusiasm. Asked if was disappointed with his plus-11 finish, Seve said, "Why would I be? It's a beautiful day, this is one of the greatest golf courses in the world, the orange juice tastes great here in Valencia, the paella is delicious ... " With the Spaniards all out of the picture, the drama shifted to two of Europe's most engaging characters, Clarke and the 6-foot-5 Swede Robert Karlsson, who were tied for the lead heading into the final round. Clarke had begun the tournament with one of his usual birdie binges -- six straight, though he ran out of steam and could only post a 67. With his cigars and Ferraris and massive waistline, Clarke has cultivated the image of a bon vivant who gets by on talent alone, but he actually has a burning desire to be the best and goes after it with a puritanical work ethic. Thursday at sunset I saw him on the putting green, braving a frosty breeze all by his lonesome, working on his chipping and putting. He was there until dark again of Friday. Following the third round I asked Clarke about the disparity between his work ethic and his image, and he said,"I work harder than anyone else out here, and that's satisfaction enough for me. I'm not concerned with whether or not anybody else knows it." The Spanish Open was the beginning of a stretch of 12 tournaments in 13 weeks for Clarke, who is obsessed with taking the Order of Merit title from his buddy, Lee Westwood. Another goal is to at least double last year's victory total of two. This is probably not what he had in mind: On the 15th hole Sunday he hit it into the bush and made a ghastly 10, dropping from third place to 32nd, thus ceding the stage to Karlsson, who breezed in for an easy victory by controlling his ball beautifully in very blustery conditions. At 6'5" Karlsson, 32, is the tallest player on tour, and with the tight Euro-pants he wears he looks even taller. You also need to know this -- he makes Jesper Parnevik look normal. Karlsson has always had one of the purest swings on the European tour, but after slipping to 102nd in the Order of Merit in 1996 he decided he needed to take a non-traditional approach to expanding his game. So he enlisted the help of Dr. Bengt Stern at Sweden's Mullingstorp Education and Health Institute. Stern, an eccentric character reputed to have successfully treated his own bone marrow cancer, is now a renowned expert in personal development. Under Stern's orders, Karlsson spent weeks jogging, meditating, undergoing acupuncture and fasting, where his only intake was two liters of sweet water and four liters of salt water a day. Karlsson responded in 1997 with his best year, winning the International Open and finishing 10th on the O.M. He has been one of Europe's top players ever since, but his quest to better his mind and body continues. In January of 2000 Karlsson underwent what he calls "body cleansing," where for three weeks he consumed nothing but white bread and milk, losing 12 kilos along the way. Additionally, I was told last week by a knowledgeable member of the European tour staff that Karlsson engages in regular colonic treatments to, uh, keep his system running smoothly. I didn't have the stomach to ask him about it, though. This week brings the Algarve Open de Portugal and even more spectacular cuisine. I just hope that by the time this trip is over I haven't found all 12 of those kilos that Karlsson lost. Sports Illustrated senior writer Alan Shipnuck periodically waxes about life
On Tour for CNNSI.com. Click here to send him a
question or a nice, friendly comment.
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
