The thought settled in my mind at approximately the same time Keegan Bradley’s 35-foot birdie putt settled into the 17th hole, highlighting his humid, howling charge toward a PGA Championship.
I don’t miss Tiger Woods.
The idea pounded through my brain when, a few minutes later, I watched Jason Dufner graciously pump fists with fans before beginning the painful process of coughing up that PGA Championship.
I don’t miss Tiger Woods.
I don’t miss sullen when I can watch joy. I don’t miss aloof when I can watch engaging. I don’t miss plastic when I can watch real.
There will be much discussion today that rookie Bradley’s playoff victory over Dufner in the PGA Championship in Atlanta on Sunday capped a summer that was a major bore. The four biggest tournaments had four different anonymous winners, none of which were named Woods, and isn’t golf going to hell in a head cover?
Wrong. Golf grows. Golf wins. This transformation to younger, unaffected champions is the best thing to happen to golf since, well, Tiger Woods.
It’s fun to watch new faces. It's inspiring to feel a different energy. Charl Schwartzel overcomes Rory McIlroy’s collapse to win the Masters. McIlroy rebounds to dominate the U.S. Open. Darren Clarke rolls out a big-bellied win at the British Open.
No comments:
Post a Comment