Why Lefty chose to switch from Titleist clubs and balls to Callaway on the eve of the Cup will go down as one of the great mysteries of the universe, along with black holes and Donald Trump's hair.
True, Mickelson is sometimes known as Driver-a-Day Phil, but it's one thing to do it on Friday of the Quad Cities, it's another to do it at the open-flame broiler of golf. No wonder he sprayed it all over Michigan in his matches with Woods. Every time he stepped up to a gut-check drive, he was looking down at a new clubhead and a new ball. You wonder if he even recognized his shoes.
Sutton benched him for it, then ripped him. "We'll all be left scratching our heads on that," Sutton said, adding, "I wouldn't have done it." Did Sutton's dis hurt Mickelson's feelings? "After all the hell you [reporters] have given me," Lefty said, "do you realize how thick my skin is now?"
It better be: He went 1--3 with the new sticks.
The Ryder Cup is a biennial Walk to the Gum Surgeon for Woods, who seems to enjoy the event the way Joan of Arc enjoyed bonfires. The man is simply too much of an assassin to suddenly start cozying up to his hits. Remember when your mustachioed aunt Zelda would come barreling up for a kiss? That's how Woods looked every time Sutton or Mickelson tried to hug him. Hey, here's an idea that might make everybody happy: Let Tiger stay home.
There was one partner Sutton found for Woods whom Tiger didn't spit out in pieces--the lippy, skippy Riley, who had saved the Americans from a pants-down 4--0 whitewash with a gutsy putt at 18 on Friday morning. Woods and Riley, childhood buddies, paired on Saturday morning for a laugher of a win, and Sutton was ready to put them out again ... until Riley told him he'd rather sit. "I'm pretty drained," Riley explained.
Hey, well, no problem! You just go back to the hotel and put your feet up, maybe get a pedi. Can you imagine?
PGA of America