Moving Day

Saturday of the U.S. Open is known as "Moving Day," because it is the day each player attempts to make his charge so that he will be in the best possible position to win on Sunday. If you're not within striking distance by the end of the day Saturday, then you won't be in contention for the Championship Sunday. It will be interesting to see who makes a charge today to position themselves within reach of the Title tomorrow.

I spent much of Thursday and Friday of the Open following Kansas Citian Tom Watson. Watson, at 60, was older than the combined ages of his playing partners Rory McIlroy (21) and Ryo Ishikawa (18).   Watson quipped Thursday on the 1st (10th) tee: "I'm playing with my grandkids here." He then asked them good naturedly "How many U.S. Open's have you played in?" This brought a few laughs as Watson reminded the gallery he'd played in 32. If I hadn't heard him say it I would have thought he was trying to get inside the young guys' heads. I think it was his way of settling them down a bit and saying "hey, it's no big deal, go out there and have fun."

Watson seemed to enjoy playing with the youngsters and was reported to be very impressed with Ishikawa and even said that he reminded him of himself at 18. Ishikawa put on a display for the living legend Watson as the Japanese teenager shot a one under 141 over the first two rounds tying him for second place.  McIroy struggled both days shooting 75-77 and missed the cut at +10.

One of the reasons I followed Watson Friday was that I thought it might be his last U.S. Open and would likelly be the last opportunity I would have to see him play competitively. However, Watson's even par round of 71 was just good enough to keep him above the cut line and keep him at Pebble Beach over the weekend. So...we'll have an opportunity to follow him some more.  Players making the cut had to be in the top 60 (plus ties) or within 10 strokes of the leader. Watson's +7 was exactly 10 shots behind leader Graeme McDowell who is at -3.

Watson's round included three birdies and three bogeys. His putter failed him on the bogeys and also kept him from grabbing a couple other birdies when his play tee-to-green put him in position to do so.  A particularly impressive birdie came on the 495 yard par 4 10th hole. Watson's 3 was well below the average score of 4.375 for the field on that hole.

Pebble Beach Exceeds Expectations

Or who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb, when I made clouds its swaddling band, and prescribed limits for it and set bars and doors, and said, 'thus far shall you come, and no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stayed?'  Job 38:8-11

It seems like every time we turn around someone is trying to sell us some type of product, service or person. These sales pitches bombard us daily, and are chock full of spin, embellishment and hype--many the brainchild of some ad agency's high dollar marketing campaign. These systematic assaults have left us largely jaded and grossly underwhelmed when we eventually encounter the focus of the hype.

Today I encountered Pebble Beach Golf Links for the very first time. I'd been told things like "it is breathtaking" and "you won't believe how beautiful it is." I usually thought to myself 'I bet it's nice, but it can't be that nice.' I reasoned that at some level Pebble Beach was just another "product" being over-billed by the media and golf establishment and that it would be certain to fall short of expectations. I was wrong.

The English language sometimes falls short when called upon to adequately describe a product of God's creation. Our language has met its match at Pebble Beach. Words like "breathtaking" and "beautiful" don't scratch the surface of what I saw today. Pebble Beach, if anything, is under-hyped. Perhaps those that come here year after year take it for granted and have lost a little of the wonder that comes with the certain astonishment of a first encounter.

Pebble Beach has been called the "greatest meeting of land and sea." It's hard to dispute this claim when looking out at the Pacific Ocean as its waves crash the shore beneath the 7th green. We know God created the Monterey Peninsula, but we must also acknowledge its designers Jack Neville and Douglas Grant, who, being created in God's image, wonderfully reflected their Creator in fashioning this property into arguably the best golf course in the world.

Some other first impressions and observations of Pebble Beach and today's practice round...

• I knew a good bit about holes 17 and 18. These are nice golf holes, but numbers 6-9 were especially surprising and certainly more beautiful than 18. These really caught me by surprise.
• Hole 17 is relatively flat. When I've watched it on television over the years I had gotten the impression that it had a pretty steep decline from tee to green toward the ocean. Not so.
• U.S. Open caps are expensive. The merchandise tents were asking $34 a piece.
• The rough looks pretty wicked and the greens appear postage stamp sized.
• Kenny Perry has lost a lot of weight.

That's all for today. We'll try to write some more each day. In the meantime, take a look at some other photos from today's practice round.

Note: This piece was posted simultaneously on our sister blog http://www.finleyriver.com/. There because it's supposed to be funny. Here because it's sports.

Ah, Pebble Beach…the greatest meeting of land, water, and unadulterated greed. As we prepare for this week’s United States Open, to be held at the venerable Pebble Beach Golf Links, imagine the following exchange taking place in a bedroom near a master bath....


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“Hi honey, I’m home!” says husband to wife.

“You’re late dear!” says wife to husband. “I tried to call you but your phone just went to voicemail. I was worried sick! Did you have to work late again?”

“No dear,” says husband, “remember, I went to the U.S. Open today. We discussed that this morning at 3:57 a.m. while I was leaving for the airport.”

“Oh that’s right sweetie,” says wife, “You’ll have to forgive me, my Advil P.M. was still hard at work keeping me comatose when you kissed me goodbye. That seems like yesterday!”

“Well, sweet cakes, that’s because it was yesterday,” says husband. “It’s now 1:45 a.m. on Friday. Yesterday was mostly Thursday!

“Why, I declare,” says wife to husband, “I guess it is Friday. At least you can sleep-in tomorrow and go to work late.” (The wife’s voice fades as the husband steps in the shower near the master bath)

The husband eventually emerges from the shower, shaves, and puts on new golf attire. “Honey, I’m off again to the Open. I’ll be home again in about 22.5 hours. Would you mind washing this plaid Izod outfit you bought me at the thrift store? I want to wear it again Saturday.”

“Saturday?!” The wife sits bolt upright in bed. “What do you mean Saturday?” Her slumber is now supplanted by slow burning but accelerating wrath.

“Would you rather I wore it Sunday? I can wear the argyle Satur-“

“Sunday?!?” The wife gasps. “But that’s Father’s Day! You were supposed to assemble the grill we bought you then cook for the neighborhood!”

“Darling, we’ve been over this a thousand times. I’m commuting this year to the United States Open. I went to great lengths to explain this to you while you were alphabetizing the spices a few weeks ago.” The husband reaches into his briefcase to reveal a camouflage dossier and travel itinerary. “Once again, our recreation budget would not allow me to book an affordable hotel room within 100 miles of the Monterrey Peninsula. I had two free flights on Southwest and found deals on two other airlines for $300 each—round trip. One night at the Monterey Marriott is $757.78. I sleep about as well on the plane as I would at the Marriott. So…I’m commuting. Now give me a big smooch and fry a couple of eggs over easy…please honey lover?!”
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If the above scenario seems far-fetched, think again. If this story’s dialogue seems slightly over-the-top, you’re right. But only the wife’s anger at her husband has been embellished under the umbrella of “literary license.”

You see, golf fans everywhere who would like to attend this great golf tournament are being forced to reconsider because of the outlandish and opportunistic price gouging perpetrated by the hospitality industry in and around Pebble Beach and the larger Monterey/Carmel/Pacific Grove area of California. Even thought tickets to the event are reasonable and at least three airports—San Francisco, Oakland, and San Jose—offer travelers reasonable airfares, the tournament attendee is slapped in the face when attempting to find a room—any room— in an inn.

Even rooms at Motel 6, the brand whose spokesman Tom Bodett promises to “leave the light on” for you, have been going for rates exceeding $300 per night. So much for “economy lodging.”

So why wouldn’t an astute golf fan consider community to the Open to avoid paying these outrageous room charges and their accompanying “hospitality taxes?” I believe the idea has merit.

Originally at this point in this “essay” we had planned to demonstrate the infinite wisdom demonstrated by commuting to Pebble Beach this year. However, in the interest of sound journalism we must confess that the idea has a few holes. Not the least of which we’ve discovered is traffic, drive time, traffic, unprecedented inconvenience, and the lack of a direct flight from Kansas City International to Pebble Beach’s number 1 Fairway.

So I’ll leave it to Michael Lewis (The Blindside, Moneyball) to research the market inefficiencies of commuting to Pebble Beach from Garden City, Missouri. For now, we’ve done our job. We’ve floated the idea out there for the general public and academia to digest.

Thus, instead of flying home tomorrow night after Day 1's competition, we'll just sing to our GPS System: Do you know the way to San Jose?

The Greatest Week in Sports?

The first two weekends in April serve as bookends for what many consider as "The Greatest Week in Sports." It's in this ten day period that we get to experience the NCAA Final Four, opening day for Major League Baseball, and the most prestigious tournament in golf--The Masters. 

This Monday will be the busiest day of all, as it will contain the MLB opener as well as the NCAA Championship Game. It's a great day with something for everyone. In baseball, every team--even the Royals--are still not mathematically eliminated from the pennant race. Hope springs eternal as the boys of summer take the field. And after this winter, we need a foreshadowing of summer.

As for basketball, Monday is the climax and conclusion of the 2009-2010 college season. And even though 62 teams and their fans are disappointed they don't have more at stake Monday night, most of the pain of losing in earlier rounds has subsided to a sufficient degree so that the Final can be watched and enjoyed (Go Butler!). As soon as this year's champion is crowned, we'll all be looking to next year as our hopes are rekindled.

Tuesday morning we'll wake up and look to Thursday and the start of the Master's. It should be an interesting week as many eyes turn to Tiger Woods and his returns to the Tour. And whatever you think of Tiger, the Master's signals that Spring is here--or at least it's in Augusta, Georgia and will be coming to a location close to you very soon.

As you watch the Masters on television this week, contemplate what you'd do if you busted a drive off the no. 13 tee and had to carry a 3-wood about 235 over Rae's Creek to reach the green. Would you lay up with a 7-iron or go for the chance at eagle? Maybe it depends on whether or not you were leading the tournament or doing everything you could to make the cut.

What would you do if you were just you and had the chance to play there? How would you manage the challenge of hole 13 at Augusta National?

The legendary Bobby Jones said this about hole no. 13 and this potential dilemma: "Whatever position may be reached with the tee shot, the second shot as well entails a momentous decision whether or not to try for the green. Several tournaments have been won or lost here, even though the decision may not have been obvious at the time." (From the Masters' Official Website)

My friend Jim Elliff posted an excellent piece which uses this dilemma to highlight a spiritual principle. I encourage you to read it at http://ow.ly/1u4M3. I think you'll say "Amen," but not because you've just successfully played Augusta National's holes 11-13.

Enjoy the week!

Bracketology and a Clear Conscience

I will never be a bona fide Bracketologist.

During the month of March, no word and  its affiliates are more overused than that of "Bracketology." Sports fans everywhere this week have been reading blogs, perusing newspapers and diligently watching ESPN in an effort to get a one-up on their comrades so that they may achieve office pool immortality.  It's all about picking a winning bracket, and some will stop at nothing in their quest of winning the title.

But I will never be a good bracketologist. I'm too much of a homer. And I can't pick against my heart. And I'm not a multi-task, multi-bracket kind of guy.

I pick Kansas to win every year, because that's what I want to see happen. So if historical odds ring true, Kansas will not win the title again for another 18 years. But it would be treasonous to pick another team to win--even if that's what I thought would happen. I'd rather lose with dignity than win in Benedict Arnold fashion.

This emotional roller coaster bleeds over into non-Kansas games as well. If I'd like to see Cornell beat Temple (I do) then I'll pick Cornell to beat Temple (I did--and this tip is free with the purchase of this column).  Similarly, if I want to see Missouri (the lower seed) beat Clemson (the higher), I'll pick it that way--and did (another free tip).

I believe it's folly to pit a bracket against the heart. Why root for the team you think should win over the team you want to win. It's tantamount to the Biblical mandate of not acting contrary to conscience. Well actually that last statement is a little extreme. It's not that bad but it's not good. The reality of this approach, however, as it has established me as a perrinial loser in any and all Bracket Challenges in which I enter. I'm starting to get invites to participate in such challenges from all over the world. My participation in your pool ensures that you will not come in last place.

Another thing I avoid at all costs is filling out multiple brackets. I can't even keep track of one, let alone forty-five. I wonder how many possibilities there are of winning brackets in a field of 65? How many brackets would one have to complete to ensure a winner? Probably more than there are dollars in the Federal Budget Deficit, or its sister metric the National Debt.

But I don't want to be conflicted with numerous possibilites and combinations of wins and losses. I'm going to pick a bracket and stick to it. I won't look to the left or to the right.

My eyes are on the prize, and I'll sleep well keeping track of one bracket that reflects the sum total of my basketball heart, even if it means I've checked my brains at the front door.

Follow your heart young man, follow your heart. If you do you may not win $5 in the office pool, let alone the ESPN Bracket Challenge.  But you will have your dignity, and you won't be conflicted between your alma mater and a number one seed.

And you'll be true to your school--just like the Beach Boys.

Scott Drew and the Jayhawk Pre-game Video

In the interest of full disclosure, I should reveal that I have a degree from the University of Kansas. But I've also long admired Baylor Basketball Coach Scott Drew. So I watched with interest last night as Drew pulled his team off James Naismith Court just after they were introduced at Allen Fieldhouse. Drew apparently gave his starters final instructions in the much quieter hallway underneath the Fieldhouse stands. This decision ruffled more than a few Jayhawk feathers, however, as Drew's pregame talk was held during the Kansas player introductions and viewing of the Jayhawk pregame video.

I thought Drew's move was sheer coaching genius, and I'll bet he'd been planning it since he walked out of the building after a 100-90 loss February 9, 2008. I've watched a number of games at Allen Fieldhouse over the last several years. The pregame video is like nothing I've ever seen. It gives goose bumps to the most stoic college basketball fan. It's a fascinating, motivating, comprehensive history lesson in Kansas basketball. Even those who aren't Jayhawk fans usually watch it with at least a modicum of admiration and awe.

The video is designed to reinforce KU's traditions of All-Americans, conference championships, Final Fours, and national titles. But lets face it, the video has two other, perhaps primary, purposes. The first is to get the crowd as jazzed as possible, to create a euphoria and decibel level that will dizzy the opposition until the first television timeout. The second purpose is to intimidate the opposing team as much as possible, and the video does that, par excellence. I've observed several teams which have come into the storied arena with video cameras and picture phones, appearing to believe they are fortunate just to be able to suit up in the place (some, undoubtedly are). They've then watched the pre-game video with their heads cocked, looking upward to the scoreboard in a trance-like state. Then they've promptly been run out of the gym.

So to the Jayhawk fans that feel like Scott Drew dissed them and Coach Bill Self's team, I say: let's get over ourselves. Scott Drew came to Lawrence as a man on a mission. He was on a business trip, and he did not feel obligated to participate in Kansas's pre-game pep rally. Perhaps he'd learned something about his teams in previous contests at Allen Fieldhouse. Perhaps he'd seen in his players' eyes not a steely resolve to win, but instead a fear that they were to become yet another notch in the storied program's belt.

Since when should we expect any team to participate in the other team's lovefest? Scott Drew is obligated to take every fair, legal, and ethical measure necessary to give his team the best chance to win. I don't see how subjecting your team to "The Video" does that. This isn't the Harlem Globetrotters vs. Washington Generals. These guys don't hang out together after the game. They don't ride the same bus or fly the same airplane. No one should be forced to join the other team's admiration society. Kansas fans shouldn't expect any team to bow down to the statue of Phog Allen.

I'm sure Drew would have preferred to not co-mingle missing the video with missing the Jayhawk introductions. The two are almost inseparable, however, so that would have been difficult. And, the jury is still out on whether or not it ended up being a good move in the end. Kansas's Sherron Collins's outstanding play last night was reportedly fueled by the perceived disrespect Baylor showed by skipping the video. Other teams may decide to skip the video at their peril. Be that as it may, Baylor schooled the Jayhawks in most phases of the game during the first half. They bettered Kansas in many of the game's final statistical categories as well. The Bears were the first team to shoot over 50% from the field (52%) against the Jayhawks over Kansas's last 92 games. They almost ended the Jayhawks' home court winning streak at 52. So despite irritating Collins (and apparently Self), Drew's decision still probably gave the Bears their best chance to win.

I must say I think the issue going forward is not whether or not the other team is watching the Jayhawk pre-game video. The issue, instead, is whether or not the Jayhawks should be watching their own video. No matter how storied a program, the only game that matters is the next one. It appears the Jayhawks sometimes think watching Mario's Miracle or Danny and the Miracles is enough to make the other team take a dive. Scott Drew proved it is not.

The Jayhawks should bask in their tradition but forget about it come game time. They need to do that before their upcoming Big Monday contest with Missouri. Fortunately I get to go to that game as well. It will be interesting to see whether or not Mike Anderson and his Tigers will hang around after they're introduced. And it will be equally interesting to see whether or not the Jayhawks think the video will be enough to get them their 54^th consecutive win at home. To do so, it may take an effort superior to the one Kansas delivered last night against Baylor.

Colt McCoy and the Rock

I am not a fan of the University of Texas, and  I wasn't necessarily a fan of Colt McCoy as he suited up for the BCS Championship game against the University of Alabama last week in Pasadena. I wanted Texas to win the game, but my interest in that outcome came from a moderate allegiance to the Big XII Conference and a moderate distaste for Alabama given my wife's family's ties to Alabama's arch rival Auburn.

I had cautiously admired from a distance the outspoken brand of Christianity practiced by McCoy and his fellow quarterback from Florida, Tim Tebow. They seemed to be the real deal, never neglecting an opportunity to give glory to Jesus Christ. Those opportunities were fairly prevalent as they have torn through most of their opponents over the last two-to-three seasons.
But in my observation the relationship between sports and Christianity has always been a bit tenuous.  Athletes point to heaven after home runs and touchdowns and field goals as if God had just pulled some sort of cosmic lever, thus changing the outcome of the game, ushering in their success not unlike the bartender in a Buffalo Wild Wings commercial. After these wins the glory would also be given to "God," but it is often uncertain whether that "God" was the Sovereign King of the Universe as revealed through Jesus Christ or simply some nondescript deity fashioned in the player's image. So any spiritual reference uttered by an athlete, no matter how apparently solid, was usually sifted through my suspicious grid.

My own personal experiences had reinforced this disconnect. I'd been party to numerous pre-game prayers designed to curry God's favor in the imminent contest. These were usually vain repetition, verbal insurance policies designed to cover the proverbial bases of preventing injury and pleading for victory. During and especially after the game, God was usually forgotten. There appeared to me no motivation to pray had it been known beforehand that we were going to a.) win the game, and b.) be injury-free.

In an article entitled God is the Gospel, Minneapolis-based pastor John Piper discusses how people often do not want God for God, but simply want him for the benefits he might provide them. He observes how many desire forgiveness, or a job, or a spouse, or to be healed from a disease--all reasonable things to seek--but they don't seem much to want God. He appropriately questions the efficiency and efficacy of these motives and provides these chilling words: God will not be used as currency for the purchase of idols.

But do we do that? I have. I've wanted God to close a real estate deal or give me a listing or help me shoot one last 74 without really wanting Him, for Him. I'd like to sugarcoat it, but I can't. That's idolatry. I might as well worship a golden calf. And my assumption is that many athletes, not unlike us, simply want to leverage their relationship with God to secure their earthly desires, their earthly fames and fortunes.

This assumption is bolstered by the conspicuous absence in sports of Christians giving glory to God in defeat. In fairness, we don't usually care much what the loser has to say and the networks don't always seek out comments from losers. After all, they're losers. What do they have to offer us? And, often defeat is so stunning, so painful, that it renders a believer speechless. In some small way, even the strongest believer probably expected God to come through for him, and doesn't know how to explain why He didn't. This is understandable, but in some cases I fear defeat exposes a counterfeit faith that was only manufactured to engender God's blessing. A faith that may have only been legal tender at the idol store.

Enter Colt McCoy on January 7 in Pasadena.  McCoy took five snaps from under center before leaving the game with a nerve injury in his shoulder. He couldn't feel his arm, so he was forced to watch the final and most important game of his career from the sidelines.  He had to watch his inexperienced understudy compete gallantly but unsuccessfully in their 37-21 loss.

When interviewed after the game, a devastated McCoy took a few seconds to compose himself, then said, "I always give God the glory. I never question why things happen the way they do. God is in control of my life, and I know that nothing else, I'm standing on the Rock."

How refreshing. McCoy's "Rock" is Jesus Christ. In Matthew 7 and Luke 6 we find the "Parable of the Two Builders." In both these passages, Jesus speaks of the wisdom of the man who follows obediently after Himself. Jesus says "the man who hears My sayings and does them...he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when the flood arose, the stream beat vehemently against that house, and could not shake it, for it was founded on the rock." 

The wise man who built his house on the rock is contrasted with the unwise man who built his house on sand. When the floods came upon that man, "the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall." 

The Apostle Peter calls Jesus Christ "a rock of offense." (I Peter 2:8) Indeed He is. I observed some Facebook animosity this season spewed toward Christian athletes, particularly Tebow. I believe the venomous comments were grounded in the "offensive" way in which the players like Tebow and McCoy proclaim Christ—their Rock.

An equally memorable depiction of Jesus Christ as the rock is found in the 1836 hymn by Edward Mote called The Solid Rock. The hymn is based on the parable of Matthew 7:24-27 and its chorus reads:

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

McCoy of course is fallible but he challenges me to live a genuine faith, a sincere pursuit that looks the same in season and out. A faith that is identical in winning and losing. A faith that is not shaken by anything the world can dish out because it comes from a world that is wholly other than this one. In this lifetime, we'll undoubtedly have more opportunities to give glory to God through disappointment than through triumph. And the trials, disappointments, and even devastations we experience are the crucibles through which God's grace shines most brilliantly. It's through these experiences that we learn to want God, for God, and we look to the eternal at which we may now only glimpse dimly.

May we too follow after and cling to the Rock, certainly in victory, more so in defeat. All other ground is sinking sand.