The PGA (Please Get Appealing!) Championship

GM,

As I was walking into work this morning, I passed a gentleman, Joe, who rents some office space from my boss. We generally exchange pleasantries every morning, but this morning--perhaps because my boss is out of town--he asked me how I was enjoying the job. "Well, it's not really what I was looking for," I answered, "but I think I've accomplished enough to impress somebody else one day." He responded to me with the typical "You're gonna be fine," adding that I was a "self-starter." Allow me to reiterate that he doesn't know me too well. But the term "self-starter"--which I think may have won the 2008 Business Cliche of the Year award--served to remind me that the PGA Championship began today. Thanks, Joe.

As I usually do before a golf major, I got to thinking about what I wanted to see this weekend. Do I want to see Tiger and Phil in contention on Sunday? How about an unknown take a three-round lead but with several established, better players nipping at his heals? What about a Sergio Garcia choke job? Do I want John Daly's game and wardrobe to be embarrassing? Would it be fun if we had a streaker? To these, I answer, "Yes, yes, yes, YES, and HELL YES!" Let's face it: Golf is inherently boring, and if it weren't for the fact that these guys look a lot like we do and seem to have real human emotions despite their cushy lives, we would lose interest in a hurry. This is coming from a guy who either wakes up or stays up to watch the British Open's early rounds! The amount of analysis that has surrounded Tiger's fist pumps would be unimaginable in any other sport. In fact, the Tiger fist pump and the Phil head-nod-with-smile-accompaniment have become the gold and silver standards of giving the fans what they want! The Padraig fist pump, as displayed at last year's PGA Championship, is neither. After that maneuver, he only could have redeemed himself by breaking into a river dance from his native land.

Four majors in a year is the perfect number. Any fewer, I wouldn't get my fill. Any more, we'd start to catch on that the so-called stories that shape every event are just worn-out plots from events past. I'm still a huge sucker for it, though.

-JW

JW,

Like you, I really like the majors set-up in professional golf, possibly the fan-friendliest of all sports structures. Everyone agrees to care about these four events and only these four; all the players try their hardest; and the television networks air even the early rounds. Personally, I've added the Players' Championship and the FedEx Cup events to my diet, but I fully support the golf fan who watches only the big four.

What I can't abide, however, is the guy who's a fan not of golf but of Tiger Woods. You know the type: He tunes in on Sunday just long enough to check the leaderboard. If it's Tiger-free, he's out of there faster than Steve Williams can assault a fan. The attraction to Woods is easily explained, of course. Like Barack Obama, Tiger is the perfect specimen for 21st century America: He wins a lot, he makes his opponents look like buffoons, and he's not white. Sure, he's a petulant, joyless crybaby, but he's the greatest golfer ever! We get to tell our grandchildren that we [slept through] him in his prime!

All that said, he's clearly going to win this championship, and I don't see it being particularly close. As I write this, he's a stroke ahead of the field and on the fairway at his eighteenth. Furthermore, he's playing at Hazeltine, a terrible major course whose obsessive, ridiculous length (7,674 yards) has the dual effect of eliminating all but about ten guys from the field and not challenging Tiger at all. I put him at 15-under for the championship--a winner by six strokes.

Of course, the argument can be made that Tiger's the only thing keeping golf in business. Ratings are terrible when he's not playing, and in many ways he really is bigger than the game. Given golf's other obstacles--Hugo Chavez recently denounced it as "a bourgeois sport"; Barack Obama can't be far behind--perhaps we should be grateful that someone's keeping the Lucas Glovers of the world from ruining more than one major per season. I just wish it were someone a little more likable, a little less of a jerk. Let's be honest. I wish it were Colin Montgomerie.

-GM