The sh*#iest Summer weather in anyone’s recent memory makes this one of my weirdest golf blogs so far. Normally on the day after Father’s Day, one of America’s favorite long-hitting, amazing-chipping, wicked-putting Dads is all over American front pages and web sites, hoisting and kissing that shiny silver cup that says, “Hey, I’m the U.S. Open champ!!!”
But, as I write, they are slogging out to their spots, and re-starting round 4, which was suspended by darkness after one of the wettest (if not THE wettest) Opens of all time.
As funny as Tiger’s near meaningless chip-in from the sh#t in Round 3 (and his reaction) is the amount of time the network analysts are spending gauging whether he is still alive in the championship. In my non-expert opinion, “Noooo waaaay, duuuude!!!” Even Eldrick The Great can’t come back from 7 strokes back on a Bethpage (or is that BATHpage???) Black course, which is designed to make par a good score for these guys.
Although…
Face it, the wet conditions, which make long iron shots to the green “stick-able” under current conditions, could give Woods the opening he needs today. But he’ll have to make some putts…
Still, Ricky Barnes and Lucas Glover (yes, THAT Lucas Glover – just kidding, nobody knows who he is) sit at -7, sporting a 5 stroke lead over Phil Mickelson, the rejuvenated David Duval, Hunter Mahan and some guy named Ross Fisher. If Ross wins this, I’ll laugh my ass off. It’s been that kind of week at the Open.
Regardless of what happens in the final round, Dads everywhere have been deprived their annual ritual of sitting on their ass all day, surrounded by family, eating badly and drinking their way to the finale of the U.S. Open. Then again, there could be an outbreak of the Bathpage Black flu!