The TV cameras were rolling when Frank Lickliter erupted during the final round of last month's Buick Invitational. The world saw Lickliter, after hooking a three-wood shot on the 14th hole, raise his club skyward, then violently slam it into the turf. Does Lickliter have one of the worst tempers on Tour? Nope, not even close. Here are the Tour's real hotheads, in alphabetical order.
His most embarrassing steam releaser is to loudly lecture pro-am partners and tournament volunteers on where to stand when he's playing. The caddies' take: "Bring a flak jacket."
At the 1997 MCI Classic, Austin slammed his putter against his skull five times so forcefully that the shaft bent and you could hear the blows on TV.
His latest meltdown came last month at Pebble Beach, where he destroyed the same putter he had used the week before to set the Tour's 72-hole scoring record. Later, when a contrite Calc asked his caddie, Greg Martin, if he had saved the clubhead, Martin reported that he had indeed retrieved it from the garbage can. "Hey, I'm a veteran," Martin says.
Personable off the course, Cook is an unrelenting self-abuser on it. Known by the caddies as Keith Richards because of his need for Emotional Rescue, Cook will never live down the time he took an angry swipe at his ball while it sat unmarked on a green during the Memorial and sent it into a water hazard.
Also Know as the Mini-volcano (in deference to Steve Pate, below), Hart, with his quick tongue and high-pitched voice, is the master of the imaginatively conjugated profanity.
A few years back after teeing off on Riviera's 1st hole during the Nissan Open, he veered off the fairway to chew out a reporter in the nearby pressroom and then resumed his round.
A benign-looking pro with a name right out of Gone with the Wind, Langham is known as a caddie killer. Says one former looper, "Even my parents never yelled at me like that."
The original Volcano, Pate specializes in assaulting tee markers. His pi�ce de resistance was a hatchet job he did on a pineapple tee marker—a real pineapple—at the Hawaiian Open.
The Walrus is a master of the meltdown. His best move is the Sword in the Stone—he slings his iron headfirst into the ground with alarming force, then stalks away.