Then the big guy sort of disappeared, appearing only briefly to answer absolutely ridiculous charges by his former swing coach, Butch Harmon, that Daly was only interested in drinking beer. Daly denied the absurd allegation, pausing on occasion to adjust the plastic six-pack holder that he'd pulled onto his head and made into "eyeglasses."

But now Daly is back. He played in last week's British Open and is playing again this week.

In Russia.

There, as you might imagine, Daly has drawn hordes of loyal Russian golf fans who follow him down the streets of Moscow, staring, hands clasped over their mouths, thousands of them pointing and whispering "Oo mi godsky, ets Boris Yeltsin bak frum deadski."

In the opening round of the Russian Open, Daly shot a respectable 70 and was five strokes behind leader Vladimir Lenin, who shot a 7-under 65 and then immediately advocated the state's takeover of all mines, factories, banks and utilities.

Daly is playing this week with an injured wrist. He played last week with an injured elbow. Both injuries, according to doctors, are common to golfers. Specifically, golfers who won the 1995 British Open and now regularly wrestle a full keg of beer up the steps of a recreational vehicle.

"It's hurting pretty bad," Daly said, referring either to his wrist or the relentless throbbing in his head.

He said he was lucky to shoot a 70.

"I probably hit two of the worst iron shots that I have ever shot," he said. "They just went dead right off the tee."

Daly's only worse moment with an iron came a few weeks ago around a late-night campfire in an RV park when a cowboy accidentally branded him.

He said it was "great to see Russia getting into golf," and also said he's soaking up the cultural experience in that country, which is the world's largest and covers one-eighth of the planet's land area. By comparison, Daly now covers three-eighths.

He then surprised Russian reporters with his knowledge of literature, saying his three favorite writers are Tolstoy, who wrote "War and Peace,"  Dostoevsky, who wrote "Crime and Punishment" and his old high school buddy, Denny, who keeps writing "Wash Me" on the back window of Daly's Winnebago.

Do you dust yourself off and vow to get better, MJ-in-high-school style? Hell no. You sue.

In a move that lands smack-dab in the "This is why they hate us" file, Andrew Giuliani, son of former mayor/presidential candidate Rudy Giuliani, has filed suit against Duke University, claiming that the coach of the golf team has "interfered with Giuliani's efforts toward becoming a professional golfer."

Giuliani's claims came in a 198-page lawsuit. One hundred and ninety-eight pages. That's a serious complaint, and one which will no doubt endear Giuliani to future college coaches, swing coaches, employers, sponsors, and so on, and so on. Thing is, the coach may have had a point -- he wanted to cut the size of the team in half, apparently, and, well, look who's on the lower end of that half: Andrew Giuliani, placing 12th of 14 golfers for the 2007-08 season. (Visor tip to commenter Harvey S for the find.)

Clearly, the golf coach was unswayed by Andrew Giuliani's repeated references to 9/11 in every backswing. Traitor.

Craig Forney and Bill Evans started golfing 46 days ago in Vermont, and on Tuesday holed out at the 18th at Kapolei in Hawaii. In between, they knocked down 900 holes in every single one of the 50 states. I'm no math major, but it sure seems they had to play in more than one state a day somewhere along the line. They drove to the contiguous 48, and took flights to Alaska and Hawaii. (That's neither Forney nor Evans in the picture, but it is a cool shot of golf in Alaska, no?) 

So how in the world did these guys get away from their families and jobs for two months? In a genius move -- for several reasons -- they did the whole thing for charity. Their "50 in 50" campaign was devoted to raising $1 million for cancer research. They don't know if they hit the goal yet; they were taking donations hand over fist as they played.

I tip my visor to these gentlemen. First and foremost, anything done for cancer research is, of course, a noble effort. Second, making it across the country playing golf with the same partner for 900 holes without killing the guy makes you something close to a saint. Third, they've given all of the rest of us the perfect justification for a 50-day road trip/gambling junket/Hooters visit: "But honey, it's for charity!"

Phil Mickelson has been gnawing at the muscles in his forearms.

John Daly has been beating himself over the head with a three-wood.

What's wrong with these men? They've all figured something out: in 2008, you injure yourself, you win a major. (Well, not Daly; that's normal weekday behavior for him.) Tiger Woods blew out a knee, and he won the U.S. Open. Padraig Harrington's wrist crackled like an icy tree branch in January, and he won the British Open. I'm no pollster, but I'm prepared to declare this a trend!

Now, granted, two majors isn't much to go on. Statistically speaking, it's worthless. But then, what good are numbers anyway? I say it's all about the drama. And what's more dramatic than someone triumphing over adversity to win a major? TV loves it! The fans love it! Us cynical media types love it! It's flawless! (Thomas Bjorn there is already getting a jump on the competition.)

Picture this at next month's PGA Championship at Oakland Hills. It's Sunday, there's fog thick enough to hang your golf bag on, and nobody can see any of the golfers. Suddenly, a shape approaches the 18th green. Stumbling out of the fog, bloody and battered like Bruce Willis at the end of Die Hard, limping and holding himself up with his pitching wedge, his golf shirt in tatters, his visor askew, there to claim victory at last, is ...

... well, we'll have to wait and find out. But you've gotta admit, that's a hell of a setup, right? Who needs Tiger when you've got that kind of drama?

It was.

Frankly, I hadn't had that much fun since Lindsay Lohan slid behind the wheel of the Ferrari, adjusted her calfskin driving gloves, glanced at me in the passenger seat and said, "Buckle up. I want to try something."

And believe me, I'm not a whiner. Que sera sera, you know? But if I have one little complaint about my weekend at Tiger's place watching the Open it would be this: Rocco Mediate could have been a little quieter when he was cleaning the pool. At times Rocco was out there banging the chlorine buckets around so hard I could barely hear the TV announcers say anything stupid.

But I'm not the kind of guy to complain. It was, all in all, a great time. Just me and the knee-hobbled Tiger. (His daughter Sam and wife Elin Nordegren were back in Sweden for the weekend, swapping meatball recipes with Uncle Thorbjorn, who insists on using the traditional family ratio: two parts herring to one part caribou.)

Speaking of Tiger's knee, well, he seemed pretty reluctant to talk about it. Except for those 10,000 times he brought it up. Hey, I'm sure the big guy's knee still aches a little. And we're all quite aware of that whole ‘Guess who won the U.S. Open on one leg?' thing.

But Tiger – and I say this to him as a friend – it's been a month. Get a cane.

Anyway, in between Tiger's fascinating stories about how his recuperation was going (Lars the houseboy rolled his eyes so many times I thought he was having a seizure) we actually got to watch some golf.

On Sunday, for example, Tiger seemed mesmerized watching Sergio Garcia shoot consecutive double bogeys and rack up a startling score of 44 on the back nine. Tiger said he was surprised.

"At the pair of double bogeys?" I asked.

"No," Tiger said, carefully balancing another huge chunk of $5,000-an-ounce cheese on a Saltine. "I'm surprised that Sergio is still playing golf. I had no idea. I guess I should watch these things more often."

Later we watched as the Royal Birkdale course finally and mercifully allowed Phil "Lefty" Mickelson to go home. Phil finished tied for 19th in the British Open, one week after he finished tied for 38th in the Scottish Open. (Clearly, Phil's game is not suited for these courses in the so-called "Mediterranean" area.)

Seriously, I asked Tiger what he thought was wrong with Phil's game. He launched into a complex talk about swing planes and hip turns and quasi-medial rotation of the carpal bones and the elbow position at impact – although mostly what I remember is Tiger suggesting that perhaps Phil should try playing right-handed for a few years.

But Tiger saved his kindest words for the guy who almost won the whole thing, the seemingly ageless wonder from "Down Under," which is what some people call Africa, I think. The Shark. Greg Norman.

"You know," Tiger said when I got back from the kitchen with another ice pack for his knee, "the guy painted like 300 or something covers for the old Saturday Evening Post magazine before he even started playing golf. You know, all those paintings with the barefoot kids and small-town doctors. What an amazing guy."

I quietly told Tiger he might be confusing Greg Norman with Norman Rockwell. The greatest golfer in the world nodded then and a moment later ordered Lars to take away my $65 glass of hand-squeezed Peruvian lemonade.

All too soon, though, the weekend was over and I was getting ready to leave. And like I said, I'm not a big complainer. But the towels in Tiger's guest bathroom were so damn thick I could barely get my suitcase closed.

Just don't miss the ball.

It's an odd pre-swing thought. Certainly not something they'd ever teach here. Definitely not something you'd figure an experienced golfer would be thinking.

But that's the precise thought that infiltrated my head the instant I took my club back on the 8th tee at El Camino Country Club in Oceanside, Calif. on July 14.

Here's why: Tournament golf changes everything.

Let's face it, when you show up at your local muni with clubs in tow, expectations are really, really low. All anyone can really gather about you is that you have six hours of free time and at least $45 in disposable income. Motivations for being there may vary.

Tournaments have a different feel. And to clarify, I'm not talking about a charity scramble or even the monthly events I play with my Northern California golf club. Too little pressure and too much familiarity there.

I'm talking about a tournament full of strangers, identifiable only by the handicap index on their scorecards and perhaps a university affiliation on a golf bag. Ages, swing types and skill levels may differ, but there's a perception that everyone is there with something to prove.

(This is where I should freely admit that nobody really cares how well you play. Any pressure you put on yourself is just that, pressure you've brought upon yourself. The confident golfer is too focused on his own game to notice you having a nervous breakdown on the practice tee. The insecure are too wrapped up fighting their own mental battles to give a hoot.)

So that's the good news. Nobody cares. The bad news? Yeah, you gotta putt everything out.

I can't say I was out to prove anything to anyone when I entered the San Diego County Amateur, part of the amateurgolf.com tournament series.

It's just that I'm approaching two months with my new golf clubs and (hopefully) retooled swing. I've played plenty between then and now but this seemed like a good time to add some pressure to the mix.

And I have to admit, I was plenty nervous standing over my first tee shot for that July 14 shotgun start. I'm long past those first-tee jitters days, but like I said, this was different for me. My home club tourneys are casual. This event had a competitive feel, buoyed by the presence of a huge scratch flight.

Thankfully, I got through that first ball just fine. A decent approach and lag later, I tapped in for par and had a chance to exhale. Until the next challenge, that is. On No. 9 (our second hole) I left myself with a short chip over a bunker with not much green to work with. It's the type of shot that I normally dread approaching. By the time I arrive at the ball I've generally psyched myself into chunking it into the sand or, more frequently, skulling it 15 yards over the green.

If there's a pill to counter the jitters over delicate chips, I'll take a lifetime supply now (Order today and quit leaving birdie putts short at the heart of the cup! Operators are standing by!). Somehow I mustered an up-and-down for par. Then another par. And another. Before I knew it I was even par through seven holes and feeling pretty good.

And then one of my playing partners asked an off-the-wall question.

"Who does your golf swing remind me of?" the man asked. Those of you who have been friends of the blog since Day 1 know I actually had an answer for the guy.

Must be Tom Lehman, of course.

But I decided to play it cool. "I have no idea," I replied. He drove off, fairly confident an answer would come to him.

Well, he found that clarity on the very next tee. And it wasn't Lehman. Or Ernie Els. Or Vijay Singh. All blatantly inaccurate but perfectly acceptable answers.

No, after watching me par seven straight holes the man had come to the conclusion that I was a 37-year-old version of two-time U.S. Senior Open champion Allen Doyle.

In case you're unfamiliar, Doyle has a unique golf swing. Some say he swings like a gargoyle. The more tactful might call it funky. Bottom line, Leadbetter isn't teaching this technique.

His answer hit me kinda hard. You see, when equipment guru Mitch Voges first saw my swing – politely referring to my mechanics as a standard "lift and chop" motion – he compared it to Doyle's. It wasn't meant to be a complement.

So after two months of working on setting up straighter, making a more pronounced shoulder turn and slowing down my tempo, I've gone … absolutely nowhere.

Anyway I'd like to blame the man for what happened next – 11 over par on the final 11 holes – but honestly my demise had more to do with my tendency to shift into a golf version of the prevent defense after a hot start. Instead of trying to make good shots, I try not to make bad ones that might spoil what I perceive to be a "good round."

Tentative thoughts lead to tentative swings and that's when the bogeys start piling up. Even with the shaky finish, however, I slept on the net division lead after one day of play.

Same story, to a degree, the next morning at the Golf Club of California. After a birdie on No. 14, our fifth hole of the day, I stood at 1 over for the final round. It would be eight holes until I recorded another par. Feeling things beginning to slip away, I regrouped to make par on three of the final five holes, including our last two.

When the scores came in I stood as the winner. Not bad for a guy that hadn't entered an event like this since he was shooting triple-digits in the San Jose Mercury News junior golf tournament in the 1980s.

For a general progress check, my best shots are better than ever right now. My poor shots are less punitive. This began as a quest for consistency and my scores at the San Diego Am turned out like this: 41-42--83; 43-43--86. So that's progress.

On the downside my short game is a nightmare. I'll turn a short greenside bunker shot into a disaster and will putt through two cuts of rough if the opportunity arises. So that's the next hurdle to clear.

---

Full disclosure alert: I'm pictured above with Scott Henrikson (right), a Navy guy from Oceanside who took second place. Scott, a lefty with one of those long, fluid swings that makes you wish you stood on the wrong side of the ball, was easily the best ball striker in the net division but was derailed by a few bad breaks and one of the most brutal horseshoe lip-outs I've ever seen. Anyway Henrikson and I represented one-third of the net-division field. So while I'm pleased with my results, there's only so much satisfaction you can garner from taking down a field of six golfers.

I'll be back in a few days with a quick summary of my trip to Chambers Bay, a course that was recently awarded a U.S. Open.

Until then, the tee is yours.

Now comes the second act of Norman's second act. Later this week, he'll tee off at the British Senior Open at Troon, with Tom Watson and Sandy Lyle in his group. He's installed at 6-1 odds to win, only a fraction behind the leader, Bernhard Langer, at 11-2. And after beating on the kids for 63 of 72 holes, he ought to be ready to lay a whuppin' on the codgers.

And in other Shark Week news, Norman has been invited to play in the PGA Championship at Oakland Hills next month. He says he's got other commitments, but come on -- it's the PGA Championship. He's gotta give that one a go. He's said he'll make his decision in the next 24 hours.

So, yeah -- good on ya, Shark! Life does get better as you get older! There's hope for the rest of us. And hey, he's only got two more major wins than I do. I could have that knocked out by April, easy.

Wow. Well played, Ms. Wie. Well played.

The scorecard thing was inexcusable from every angle. Golf is a game whose margins are dotted with land-mines of dorky rules, and the scorecard-signing rule is a prime example. What's the fear, that she's going to lop off a stroke or two while nobody's looking? She's Michelle freakin' Wie, for heaven's sake. On the flip side, though, rules are rules, and how hard is it to forget to sign your scorecard when you've been doing it for tournaments? As the Florida Sun-Sentinel notes, golf is all about precision, and it doesn't stop when you hole out on 18.

But Michelle wasn't done. With the holy-crap-she-got-kicked-out-for-THAT? news still circulating, she announced that it was time to match up with the boys once again. She'll tee off against the men in next week's Legends Reno-Tahoe Open, and it's a move that has been met with, shall we say, a less-than-welcoming response. Sports Frappe leads with the headline "Michelle Wie still can't cut it," and it goes downhill from there. As Deadspin puts it, "Somebody sit this girl down and tell her she's just not good enough." The Philly Inquirer's Joe Logan gets even more succinct: "Dumb. Dumb. Dumb."

Wie's got the kind of career arc that makes people want to bang their heads into walls in frustration. She was one stroke off the lead last weekend when she had the scorecard debacle. And right on the heels of that embarrassment, she's going to play in a men's tournament where there's almost certainly more frustration and embarrassment ahead? Wie was coming along so well in her "career rehab" move, but she's like a poker player who keeps going all-in before the second card is dealt. The more Wie focuses on playing her game well, the less everyone outside the ropes will focus on why she's not.

But is he doing it as well as he could?

Mickelson is now zero-for-nine at majors since his collapse at the 2006 U.S. Open at Winged Foot. And in his last two majors, at Torrey Pines and Royal Birkdale, he's come out of the gate about as well as a horse pointed the wrong way in the Kentucky Derby. Sure, he recovered well this weekend, carding a two-under 68 on Friday and putting himself right back in the hunt, but then proceeded to spit the bit yet again on Saturday.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge Phil fan. How could you not be? The dude looks and acts like the luckiest club duffer you'll ever see. And maybe that's the problem. I hate it when sportswriters get all pop-psychologist, but maybe there's something to the whole "Tiger is a relentless killer, Phil is a great drinking buddy" thing. The links, they don't care how much you smile.

Asking golf fans to stop saying things like this Tiger-free 2008 is "Phil's chance to shine" is like asking the sun to start rising in the west. And maybe Tiger's not the problem at all; maybe it's the constant public pressure. But, come on, Phil -- the No. 2 golfer in the world has to bring some more game than this to the biggest stages, right?

Eubanks: Six is the absolute minimum. I still go with eight or nine. He should have won the 1984 U.S. Open and the 1989 British Open. And, yes, he should have at least made par on 18 at Augusta in 1986, which would have given him the edge in the playoff since Nicklaus had been sitting in an air-conditioned cabin for an hour. With all the talk this past weekend of Norman being "Tiger before there was a Tiger," it's worth considering how many majors Tiger would have won if he had been in the same positions. It's an academic exercise, but the answer is a lot closer to 10 than two.
 
Arkush: Let's not compare Norman to Tiger; nobody looks good in that context. Norman was a truly outstanding player who filled the void in the years between the Nicklaus and Woods eras. If not for Norman, with all due respect to Nick Price, the years between 1986 and 1996 would have been difficult to absorb. Could he have won eight or nine majors? Perhaps. But, in Fuzzy Zoeller, Paul Azinger, Raymond Floyd, Corey Pavin, etc., Norman faced some pretty tough competitors. Five puts him even with Seve Ballesteros.

Way to go, Padraig! And while I feel bad for Greg Norman's sputtering run at the Claret Jug, he apparently had Chris Evert climbing all over him any time he wasn't holding a club. Plus, he can take wine baths in all his money. I think he'll be okay.

Some notes: this is a moderated chat, which means your comments don't automatically get through as soon as you type them. Intelligent questions and funny one-liners work well; shout-outs and "WHY CAN'T I SEE WHAT I'M TYPING" don't.

So get ready to waste your next two lunch hours. See you at 11:30!

Yahoo! Sports' Brian Murphy: Ernie Els, Phil Mickelson, Sergio Garcia
The nine dudes at CBS: Eight different players. Only Sergio mentioned twice.
Sports Illustrated: Sergio Garcia, Jim Furyk, Lee Westwood
Golfweek.com: Sergio Garcia, Ernie Els
Deadspin: An unknown like Andres Romero, Lee Westwood and Nick Dougherty
ESPN.com's Jason Sobel: Jim Furyk, Sergio Garcia, Robert Karlsson
PGA Tour.com: Bart Bryant, Matt Kuchar, Doug Labelle II
Golf Observer: A past Major winner with a strong record in British Opens

Over in the betting column, Sergio is getting 10-1 odds, with Phil Mickelson (12-1), Padraig Harrington (15-1), and Justin Rose (20-1) following closely behind.

So, consensus is that pretty much everyone thinks this is Sergio's year. Nice as that would be, Sergio doesn't often bear up well under that kind of pressure. (Rumors and Rants has more on this issue, with a touch of that salty NSFW language.) We're approaching the ten-year anniversary of the Van De Velde debacle; let's hope for Sergio's sake that there's no similar meltdown in the works for this weekend. And when it's all said and done, let's make sure to check this post to see how well our pundits fared.

My pick? I'll say Adam Scott, just because nobody else has.

And so when Kenny Perry, the hottest golfer on the planet Earth at the moment – I say that because Phil Mickelson is slumping and is from Pluto – had to make a big decision recently, I waited breathlessly. I use the word "breathlessly" because my son Dennis is fat and was sitting on my chest. (The weight problem doesn't bother me as much as the fact that he's 37 and still collects Beanie Babies.)

Anyway, here was Perry's dilemma:

With a victory in last week's big PGA tournament, the Mule Deer Open or something like that, Perry got an invitation to this week's British Open. This is one of golf's majors and will be played at Royal Birkdale in England (proud national motto: "Taking A Big Mouthful of Warm Beer and Not Spraying It Back Out of Our Nose Like Most People Would").

However, Perry had already told officials he'd play in the PGA event this week in Milwaukee ("Gateway to Oshkosh"). Footnote: I love Milwaukee, home of my alma mater – Marquette University. It's because of those four years in Milwaukee that I say now, with great pride, that I am currently No. 14 on the National Liver Transplant Waiting List.

The point is, Perry – who has won three of his last five tournaments – chose the U.S. Bank Championship in Milwaukee over the British Open.

And he is being grilled like a bratwurst on a cool Kenosha evening in mid-September, whatever the hell that means.

From Perry, who also won the Memorial this year and is now ranked second behind Tiger Woods in the FedEx standings: "I committed to all these tournaments when I was ranked 100th in the world. And now all of a sudden I've won twice. I'm not going to back out on them."

Pretty admirable.

Or not.

"To the best of my knowledge you can't win if you don't play," snapped Jim Furyk. "I'd have a difficult time staying home when I had a chance to play in a major."
And from England's Justin Rose, at Royal Birkdale: "He's arguably the best player in the world right now and I find it amazing he's not here. I couldn't imagine opting out of majors. It's what I want to judge myself on by the end of my career."

There are, of course, other measuring sticks.

"I don't want to live in a fishbowl," said Perry, 47. "I don't want Tiger status. My goal was never to be a superstar. I just wanted to make a living and support my kids."

So instead of blasting him, countrymate Furyk and Englishman Rose might want to salute Perry this week. Perhaps they could acknowledge a guy with some principles. Perhaps they could even raise a glass, make a toast and take a big gulp of beer.

Although if I were Rose I'd stay at least 10 feet away from Furyk's nose.

Eubanks: Perry isn't at Birkdale for one simple reason: He doesn't feel he can win. And at this stage in his career, he isn't playing for show. Also, by the time you hit your late 40s, eight-hour flights, five-hour time differences and spotty restaurants cause the shoulders to slump and the chin to sag. He's not going because he has nothing to prove and would rather get ready for the PGA Championship, the Ryder Cup and a run at the FedEx Cup.

Arkush: Of course he can win. The way he's playing these days, he can win anywhere… against anybody. Furthermore, at this stage of his career, he should be playing in the oldest major of them all. At 47, he won't get many more opportunities. Ask Curtis Strange. Two decades later, the former U.S. Open champ still regrets that he skipped the British Open three times during his prime. I suspect Perry will feel the same way someday. There is plenty of time to get ready for the Ryder Cup. It's two months away!

Eubanks: Some players like links golf and others don't. Sam Snead and Ben Hogan didn't care for it. Neither came back after winning a British Open. Perry seems very comfortable with his decision to stay in the States this week, and we should respect that. Nobody knows his capabilities better than the player himself. If the man thinks it's in his best interest to skip the British, we should salute his decision and let it go.

Arkush: Salute him? Salute his decision, at the peak of his powers, to skip a great championship and tee it up instead in Milwaukee? That's outrageous. Perry will be on the Ryder Cup squad and he might even win the FedEx Cup, but because of this decision and his unwillingness to try to qualify last month for the Open at Torrey Pines, the victories won't be the only memories we have of Perry's 2008 season. We will also remember that he didn't take on the world's best in the biggest events.

Last week, brothers Davis and Hanks Massey, aged 9 and 11, respectively, pulled off a feat that borders on the unimaginable for golfers of all ages: They both hit holes-in-one in succession at the Par-3 third at TPC Sawgrass. (Couldn't do it on the Island Green, huh? Shame.)

How amazing is such an occurrence? This amazing:

The odds of two players in the same group making a hole-in-one have been estimated at 17 million-to-1 by Francis Scheid, a retired Boston University math professor who was commissioned by Golf Digest to calculate hole-in-one odds under various scenarios. The odds for a PGA Tour player have been pegged at 3,700-to-1 and a handicap golfer at about 13,000-to-1.

The odds at hitting the big prize in the Florida Lottery are about 22 million-to-1. Various Internet sites put the odds at being struck by lightning in Florida at 240,000-to-1 or being bit by a shark at 11 million-to-1.

Right now, some of you are thinking, "Wow, what an amazing couple of lads! What a heart-warming story!" And others of you, quite reasonably, are thinking, "What a load of ... " (We'll stop there. This is a family-friendly post, after all.)

So I checked with the writer of the story, Garry Smits at the Florida Times-Union. He thinks it's got the ring of truth, for three reasons. First, the kids' father, who watched the whole show, is PGA Tour Marketing Vice President Scott Massey, and in addition to the, uh, questionable judgment a PGA VP would show by lying about this, Smits said that a former colleague of his attested to Massey's upstanding character. Good to know.

Second, you can't just go out and blast a hole in one and expect the USGA to register it; it has to come as part of a legitimate round of either 9 or 18 holes. The Masseys were going out to goof around for a couple evening holes and happened to hit these shots, but in order to make them count, they had to be part of a full round. Problem was, darkness had already set in by the time they were done celebrating. So they contacted the USGA, found out that they could in fact resume the round the next morning, and thus went out and played holes 4 through 9 to make it a legitimate round.

Finally, as Smits says, "All of golf is an honor system. It would be hard to get three people to lie like this. Ultimately, we have to believe them."

[Jacksonville.com via Deadspin]

Got a tip / post / link for Devil Ball to check out? Click here to hit up Jay Busbee with the scoop.

Friends, we have reached that tipping point here. Farewell, Yahoo! Golf Experts Blog. Hello, Devil Ball Golf!

We at DBG plan to be your first and best source for all that's right in the world of golf -- the personalities, the amazing shots, the meltdowns, the golf-cart massacres. Our foursome includes Yahoo! Golf Editor Michael Arkush and writer Steve Eubanks, two guys who, between them, know everything there is to know about the game and its history. There's funnyman Rich Tosches, whose off-kilter take on the world of golf lets a lot of the hot air out of the game.

And then there's me, Jay Busbee. That's me there at right, rocking the godawful matador golf swing. I already run the NASCAR blog at Yahoo! Sports, and to answer the most common comments right off the bat: yes, I do get paid for this. And no, I couldn't come within twenty strokes of the golfers I'll be poking fun at here. Hell, probably thirty.

There's also you, dear reader. You're kind of like the gallery that gets to come inside the ropes and take a couple hacks every now and then. Seen a great golf story online? Had a wacky, once-in-a-lifetime round? Gotten bombed with John Daly and Kid Rock? Bring us in on it! Send us your links, photos, stories, suggestions, all-expenses-paid tournament entries, et cetera by clicking right here.

(Oh, and as for why "Devil Ball" -- Devil Ball's a best-ball-type game, where three players play as a team and the fourth plays his ball -- the "devil ball" -- all alone. Triumph or disaster, no middle ground. Appropriate, no?)

There are two kinds of golfers. There are the ones who test the wind, who fret over club selection and slope rating, who demand absolute silence when they address the ball. And then there are those who'll step up and hammer a tee shot right into the middle of those guys. Which foursome would you rather hang with?

But standing tall above them all is Rick Rhoden, the former Dodgers pitcher there at right who's now won seven of these bad boys with his performance on Sunday. Rhoden totaled 68 points in the Stableford scoring system: six points for eagle, three for birdie, one for par, none for bogey, and minus-2 for double-bogey or worse. (Barkley, the worst golfer on earth, totaled a minus-81.)

These celebrity deals are usually a lot of backslapping and fan-lovin', so it's good to see some celebs can actually play a decent game. (Rhoden won with a final-round 70.) Unfortunately, there's always drama; in this case, it came in the form of Tony Romo, who fell into a pond after a bunker shot during Saturday's action (which, for some reason, completely unhinged this particular writer). No word on whether Jessica Simpson was to blame for the splashdown, but Cowboys fans probably assume she was.

I'll announce exact times once we see what the pairings are this week. Get your questions, witty comments, and "Where's Tiger?" queries ready!

It's always good to take the pulse of the commentariat when writing a blog, and when you're writing a golf blog, there's no better way to see what people are thinking than to write a sharply angled Tiger Woods post. Writing a story about how Tiger Woods will soon be a billionaire fits the bill nicely. Tons n' tons of readers and 850-plus comments later, here is what we've learned from that post:

1. Tiger deserves his money.

2. Tiger doesn't deserve his money.

3. Communists have no sense of humor.

But let's dip a little deeper into the well, shall we? Let's see just what the public at large thinks of Tiger Woods getting rich, about Michael Schumacher being the first billionaire athlete ... and about me, too, especially about my joke about how if you don't like Tiger's money, you're a communist:

"Just a reminder to you Jay Busbee, the McCarthy era is over! Is it some kind of threat or shame to say that one who does not believe in capitalism is automatically branded a communist? And what's wrong with communism besides the countless myths churned out by American news media?"

That sounds like communist talk, mister. Are you now or have you ever been ... ?

"Whe the hell is Michael Schumacher?"

Oh, great. Like Europe doesn't hate us enough already. Thanks, dude.

"jay busbee.. that communist comment was pretty ignorant ... that's why you'll probably never write for the new york times or the wall street journal or anything of great significance!"

The No. 1 sports site on the Internet and the No. 1 golf blog on the Internet would like a word with you, sir.

More, if you dare, follows ...

"Unfortunately, Mr. Woods (along with other financially-successful individuals in the United States) never truly get to appreciate most of what they earn, for the democrats in government always want their piece of the pie first! These tax and spend liberals do NOT believe in capitalism."

Whoa! Who left the talk radio on? Megadittoes, homes!

"just because one is in favor of a redistribution of income when 1% of the population earns over 50% of the nation's income and owns over 70% of the nation's wealth does not make one a communist. communism refers to public ownership of capital, redistribution of income is consonant with keynesian economic theory which is mostly applied to capitalistic societies. "welfare states" and "communism" are not synonomous terms ... "

Aw, hell. This is like one of those dreams where you're in class but haven't studied for the final. Strangely, even when I'm awake I'm still sitting around in my underwear ...

"what a crappy article. Like who hasn't broken down a billion dollars by the minute or second before? As for calling people communists if they don't like your opinion- that's a throwback from the 60's! Dude, keep your day job at Walmart.."

I've got one hell of a comeback to write, but that Huggies display isn't gonna stack itself. When I get a break, though, Mister ...

If I had a billion, I would be giving away a million a month to children's hospitals and I would do nothing else but that. At least I would be remember for something more than just being worth a billion. What will you be remembered for?

Um ... being the best blogger that works at Wal-Mart?

"He earns three dollars and seventeen cents per second. That means, hypothetically speaking, if Tiger was walking up the fairway in a tournament and saw a $10 bill lying there, he'd make more money by walking right past it."

"I hate that example. People used to use it for Bill Gates, saying that it wasn't worth his time to pick up a hundred dollar bill. You've gotta be an idiot to think that. The only way that stands true is if he DOESN'T stand to make his 3.17 per second by bending down to pick up the $10 bill. BUT THESE AREN'T SUBSTITUTES. The $10 bill is additional income to his $3.17/sec. WHY WOULDN'T HE PICK IT UP?"

Because he's in the middle of a tournament, silly! (That, and it's a hy-po-the-ti-cal.)

barberism,greed and hate will always prevail,we are doomed,and the more war and evil i see the better it makes me feel.I just pray for nucleonic dets,yeehaw!

Yeehaw indeed, strange commenter person. Yeehaw indeed.

All right, let's take one more:

"you are an idiot blogger with an mind of an retarded kid. your articles suck and this is my first time reading ur article. get an another job, loser!!!"

Love you too, Mom. Seeya!

The tournament began in 1984 when "Klinger" asked some of his celebrity friends to join him for four days of golf. That didn't work out very well because of the tens of thousands of deep, gouging high-heel marks the guys left on the greens.

Nevertheless, today we're in the midst of the 24th Jamie Farr tournament, with the actor schmoozing at the Highland Meadows Golf Club in Ohio, shaking hands and posing for photos with some of the best women golfers in the world. (In the group photo he's second from the left in the next-to-last row – or the only one in a dress.)

Anyway, if a guy who was a cross-dressing soldier during the Korean War can pull this off, well, there are plenty of other 1970s TV folks who are just as deserving and should have their own tournaments. Here are some possibilities:

The Lou Ferrigno Classic. Named for the original TV "Incredible Hulk." The host could even play, giving us a glimpse of a man who can hit a golf ball out of sight but, when angry, becomes a raging monster who can't control himself and couldn't make a 10-foot putt to save his life. Of course this might not be all that new, in the sense that we already have Sergio Garcia.

The Merlin Olsen Invitational. Named for the ex-NFL great and actor who played poor, hard-working farmer Jonathan Garvey on "Little House on the Prairie." As a bonus, fans could show up a week before the tournament and watch the host use mud and pine branches to build the 250,000-square-foot clubhouse.

The C.P.O. Sharkey Invitational. We should get this one started right now so the main character from that show, Don Rickles, could actually attend for a year or so. Let's face it, the guy's old. What a hockey puck. Just between you and me, he's starting to look like Gene Autry's saddle. Frankly, I'd like to be there when Kevin Stadler is in his backswing and the host bellows, "Hey, Stadler, when's the baby due?"

The James Garner Classic. Named for the "Rockford Files" star, a private investigator who, despite earning a lot of money, lived in a trailer. This one, obviously, brings an automatic lifetime exemption for Daly.

The Archie Bunker Open. Sure, Carroll O'Connor is gone. But his name can live forever with his own PGA event. The tournament would have billboards right out on the course with some of Archie's best lines, such as, "In 50 years he never worked a day. To him, nine to five was odds on a horse." Or "Jesus was a Jew, yes, but only on his mother's side." Or "For too long they've been getting the short end of the totem pole."

This would give tournament spectators something to laugh at until Anthony Kim showed up with the big belt buckle.

The tournament began in 1984 when "Klinger" asked some of his celebrity friends to join him for four days of golf. That didn't work out very well because of the tens of thousands of deep, gouging high-heel marks the guys left on the greens.

Nevertheless, today we're in the midst of the 24th Jamie Farr tournament, with the actor schmoozing at the Highland Meadows Golf Club in Ohio, shaking hands and posing for photos with some of the best women golfers in the world. (In the group photo he's second from the left in the next-to-last row – or the only one in a dress.)

Anyway, if a guy who was a cross-dressing soldier during the Korean War can pull this off, well, there are plenty of other 1970s TV folks who are just as deserving and should have their own tournaments. Here are some possibilities:

The Lou Ferrigno Classic. Named for the original TV "Incredible Hulk." The host could even play, giving us a glimpse of a man who can hit a golf ball out of sight but, when angry, becomes a raging monster who can't control himself and couldn't make a 10-foot putt to save his life. Of course this might not be all that new, in the sense that we already have Sergio Garcia.

The Merlin Olson Invitational. Named for the ex-NFL great and actor who played poor, hard-working farmer Jonathan Garvey on "Little House on the Prairie." As a bonus, fans could show up a week before the tournament and watch the host use mud and pine branches to build the 250,000-square-foot clubhouse.

The C.P.O. Sharkey Invitational. We should get this one started right now so the main character from that show, Don Rickles, could actually attend for a year or so. Let's face it, the guy's old. What a hockey puck. Just between you and me, he's starting to look like Gene Autry's saddle. Frankly, I'd like to be there when Kevin Stadler is in his backswing and the host bellows, "Hey, Stadler, when's the baby due?"

The James Garner Classic. Named for the "Rockford Files" star, a private investigator who, despite earning a lot of money, lived in a trailer. This one, obviously, brings an automatic lifetime exemption for Daly.

The Archie Bunker Open. Sure, Carrol O'Connor is gone. But his name can live forever with his own PGA event. The tournament would have billboards right out on the course with some of Archie's best lines, such as, "In 50 years he never worked a day. To him, nine to five was odds on a horse." Or "Jesus was a Jew, yes, but only on his mother's side." Or, "For too long they've been getting the short end of the totem pole."
This would give tournament spectators something to laugh at until Anthony Kim showed up with the big belt buckle.

And you know what second place is, don't you? Right: the first loser.

Just take a look at Ms. Creamer's comments after the round: "I didn’t know it was a par 71," Creamer said with a laugh. "I thought it was a par 72. If I would have known that, who knows?" She didn't know? How could she play in a tournament and not know the par? Is this the low standards we're allowing for our professionals these days?

Of course, what are we to expect when we're talking about the Farr, named for an actor whose most famous role involved dodging military service? (Jamie Farr, we're talking about. I'm not familiar with Owens Corning's film or TV work.) Max Klinger would be proud of you, Ms. Creamer, but we're not.

...okay, that's enough. Did you read this far without blasting out a furious comment? Congratulations. And HUGE congratulations, too, to Ms. Creamer for her exceptional round! A deep tip of the Toledo Mud Hens cap to the Farr Classic! Everything above? Flip it. And anyone who doesn't think women can golf to the level of the men? Flip them off. (Can I say that?)

Way to go, Paula! Go for the 59 today!

After the jump, Stewart Cink gets his groove on.

Winner, Baller8184198:
Stew Cink does his Carlton Fisk imitation. The ball missed the green by 73 yards.

And sdjerk pulls up just in time:
"From the windows, to the walls, till the sweat..."

A new Forbes report reveals that Woods is on track to become the world's first billionaire athlete by 2011. That, friends, is nothing short of astonishing. We all know about billionaires who've made their money through skyrocketing IPOs or entrepreneurial sellouts -- shoot, I'm one, aren't you? -- but for Woods to make his billion through nothing but paychecks is pretty damn amazing.

[UPDATE: Some reports have Michael Schumacher as the world's first billionaire athlete, as of 2005. No idea why Forbes didn't mention that.]

But a billion is such an abstract number. Let's break that down. Tiger is on pace to make about $100 million this year between endorsements and winnings, even considering the fact that he won't play in another tourney. $100 million a year equals $273,972 a day. $11,415.53 an hour. $190 a minute. He earns three dollars and seventeen cents per second. That means, hypothetically speaking, if Tiger was walking up the fairway in a tournament and saw a $10 bill lying there, he'd make more money by walking right past it.

Does he deserve that money? Hell yes, he does; he makes far more than that for other people and corporations. Is it right that he deserves that money? Well, that's the foundation of a capitalistic society, isn't it? Like it or not. (Yes, teachers and doctors deserve more, but they don't get it.) So, bottom line: If you don't think Tiger deserves to be rich, you're a communist. Plain and simple.

Hey, Tiger? Next time we go out, none of that "I can't find my wallet" nonsense. Not when we know you can buy the restaurant, dude.

Got a tip / post / link for the Yahoo! Golf Blog to check out? Click here to hit up Jay Busbee with the scoop.

The clubs that have hosted the Open include the following nine in the current rotation:

• Old Course at St. Andrews: The "Home of Golf" and one of the most famous courses in the world, it has hosted the Open since 1873.

• Carnoustie Golf Links of Scotland, the host of the 2007 event, first hosted in 1931.

• Muirfield, in Scotland, first hosted the championship in 1892.

Royal Birkdale Golf Club, the current host, has been a part of the Open rotation since 1954.

• Royal Liverpool Golf Club in England has hosted 11 tournaments between 1897 and 2006.

Royal Lytham & St. Annes Golf Club in England has hosted tournaments since 1926.

• Royal St. George's Golf Club in England was the first Open course outside Scotland when it hosted a tournament in 1894.

• Royal Troon of Scotland has hosted since 1923.

• The Westin Turnberry Resort of Scotland will be hosting the event in 2009 for the first time in 15 years.

The courses dropped from the regular rotation include the following:

• Prestwick Golf Club, dropped in 1925 after hosting 24 Opens.

• Musselburgh Links, replaced by Muirfield.

• Royal Cinque Ports Golf Club, which hosted two events in 1909 and 1920.

• Prince's Golf Club in England and Royal Portrush Golf Club in Northern Ireland, which each hosted only a single event.

Future sites include Turnberry (2009), St. Andrews (2010), Royal St. George's (2011) and Royal Lytham (2012). Not a bad rotation, eh? Any favorites among them for you?

He has tried all the usual boredom-fighters: counting the bathrooms in his house, playing games (he particularly enjoys Guess the Names of the Servants and the blindfolded game Pin the Tail on Phil), trying to one-hop golf balls across the half-acre living room and into the Ming vase and, of course, curling up on the sofa, picking up his copy of "Harry Potter" and handing it to J.K. Rowling so she can read it to him.

(For a while he had Stephen King read to him, but doctors said all the screaming, jumping off the couch and crashing through the sliding glass door wasn't doing his knee any good.)

And sure, the big guy gets outside once in a while. But the knee puts quite a limit on what he can do out there. And take it from me, shuffling down to the moat in your $40,000 silk bathrobe and spraying WD-40 on the drawbridge gears, well, that gets old in a hurry.

From his website: "I'm wearing a full leg brace and will be on crutches for a few weeks. To be honest, I'm not sure when my rehabilitation will start. I can't put weight on my leg yet."

That news did little to cheer up his longtime caddy, Steve Williams, who managed a smile and endured some good-natured ribbing from the other guys in the unemployment line, specifically Brett Favre, Michael Strahan and Barry Bonds, who sipped Dom Perignon and munched on $1,200-a-pound cheese as they waited for the next window to open.

On a more positive note, Tiger's post-op plan made it impossible for him to attend the tournament he sponsors, the AT&T National, over the weekend – a small blessing that spared him the ungodly sight of tournament winner Anthony Kim's belt buckle, which looked like something Liberace might have worn to the rodeo.

Actually, the giant, expensive jeweled belt buckle with the initials "AK" was terrific and Kim didn't mind all the jokes the players made about it, and Monday morning he quietly offered it to Ashton Kutcher (a.k.a.  Mr. Demi Moore) for $5.

Anyway, there are hints that Tiger is fading, slowly, from our thoughts. The actual website xRank, which keeps track of Internet searches for sports stars and other celebrities, reports that he dropped from second place right after the U.S. Open to 20th place this week. This puts him a few places behind Britney Spears and Paris Hilton and just ahead of someone named Usher, who I believe is the guy who showed me to my seat at Coors Field last Friday night.

And after we were reminded of his fierce competitive nature during the U.S. Open – and after he hears about this xRank thing – I think we can all assume how the greatest golfer on earth will spend 18 hours a day for the next six months: hunched over his computer, relentlessly conducting searches for "Tiger Woods."

Hey, it's almost time for another major, and next up is the British Open - or, as they call it in Merrie Olde England, "The Open Championship." Kicking off a run of British Open-themed posts here at the still-unnamed Golf Experts Blog with these cool and fascinating facts about the tourney. So grab your kippers and your bangers and mash and take a lorry to the loo or whatever. Away we go...

• The British Open is the oldest of the four majors, and while its purse has historically been the lowest of the crew, since 2002 it has been the highest.

• That dapper fellow there at right? No, it's not the Gorton's fisherman, it's the immortal Willie Park Sr., who won the first Open on October 17, 1860.

• The first Open was pros-only, and the field totaled eight, including a wheezing Colin Montgomerie. The field played all three rounds of the tourney at the Prestwick Golf Club in a single day; Willie carded a 174.

• The initial prize at the tourney was a big ol' boxing-style Champions' Belt, pictured at right on Willie's belly. The first cash prize was rolled out in 1864, and totaled the princely sum of £6. That's six pounds, or about $3.6 million in today's limp dollars.

• Record scores at the Open are held by a couple of familiar names: Greg Norman recorded an aggregate 267 in 1993, and in 2000 a fella by the name of Tiger Woods shot a -19, which happens to be the record for all majors.

• Expecting another round of Monday golf if we end up tied? Don't hold your breath. The Open's method for determining a champion is a four-hole playoff, with sudden death following if the match is still tied.

• The Open rotates between nine hallowed courses in England, with the iconic St. Andrews hosting the tournament every fifth year.

• The earliest winners of the Open were all Scotsmen, and included everyone from greenskeepers to club makers. Scotland still leads all nations in the number of wins at 42, with the U.S. in second at 41. Proving, as always, that if it's not Scottish, it's crap.

Arkush: Great choice but I'll go with another that featured Nicklaus in a losing role, the 1972 Open at Muirfield. The Golden Bear, going for the third leg of a Grand Slam that seemed quite attainable, was trailing by six strokes heading into the final round. He then mounted one of his typical charges. Yet, amazingly, Lee Trevino holed out from the bunker at 17 for a par, and prevailed by one shot. Nicklaus vs. Trevino, both in their primes. You can't get any better than that.

Eubanks: Good call, but the "can't get better than that" line is not accurate; 1977 was better. In the final hour of the final day in 1972, the match came down to Trevino and Tony Jacklin, great champions but not the caliber of Nicklaus and Watson at Turnberry. Conversely, in 1977, Jack holed a huge birdie putt on the final green after driving it in the right rough, which forced Watson to follow with his own birdie. It was a battle for the ages, one that we'll remember as long as the game is played.

Arkush: Imagine if Nicklaus had somehow overtaken Trevino on that final day at Muirfield. Imagine the anticipation everyone would have felt leading into the PGA at Oakland Hills. It would have been unprecedented. We'll never know, of course, because of the magic displayed by one of the game's all-time characters, Trevino. For him to pull it off, on that stage, against the greatest player ever, with so much at stake, remains just as captivating as the historic duel at Turnberry.

My Yahoo! colleague Brian Murphy is already asking if Kim qualifies as a possible heir to Tiger. He recounts a cell phone conversation at the end of the tourney between Tiger and Kim that seems like a real-world version of those Charles Barkley / Dwyane Wade cross-generational plays, one in which the mythical torch is passed (though we hope that Kim brings a little more to the table, personality-wise, than the linoleum-esque Wade.)

Anyway, while the Tiger's-heir thing is an interesting angle, and one that no doubt will plague Kim for the rest of his playing days, what I want to know is, where the hell does Anthony Kim get his wacky belt buckles, huh? The top pic there at right is from this past weekend's tourney, while the lower one is from The Players' Championship. Shoot, with that kind of buckle, Kim doesn't belong on a golf course; he ought to be on a riverboat somewhere fleecing folks at a poker table, with a little pistol concealed in one boot.

Is Kim the Tiger rival we've been waiting for since Day 2 of Tiger's arrival? We won't know that until Kim and Woods sprint for the finish on some Sunday in Augusta. But what we do know is that Kim is setting a new standard for fashion on the links. Rocco Mediate's peace sign? Pfah. So June 2008. We fully expect someone to be wearing a trash can lid as a belt buckle by the British Open.

(A quicker and more spectacular way to fall off the face of earth, of course, is to be actor Michael Richards and decide to give stand-up comedy a shot. But today we'll stick with the LPGA and Lewis.)

As you recall, the 23-year-old Lewis lit up the Open last week. Just 19 days after she turned pro she pounded the Interlachen links. After a third-round 67 she led the whole darn thing by a stroke.

TV couldn't get enough of the jump in her walk and her Hollywood smile and the relentlessly grinning guy – her father – lugging her golf bag. Lewis was stealing the show and making people forget Lorena What's-Her-Name and Annika somebody. On Sunday, though, Lewis shot a 78. She finished five strokes behind the winner. TV announcer Johnny Miller, though, labeled Lewis the next LPGA superstar.

And the LPGA was so excited about the meteor named Lewis that it promptly put her, figuratively, on singer Kenny Rogers' train bound for nowhere. (Footnote: Judging by the plastic surgery, it's possible Kenny also has a dream of playing on the LPGA Tour.)

So, despite her dazzling performance at the Open, Lewis has disappeared. There's no mention of her on the LPGA website. She is not on any list of statistics and not, for crying out loud, even on the list of LPGA Tour rookies, a list that includes:  Chris Brady (I believe she was Marsha's youngest sister, Amie Cochran ("If the Foot Joy-brand calfskin golf glove doesn't fit, you must acquit"), Germany's Sandra (Oh What A) Gal and fellow German Anja (More Fun Than a Barrel of) Monke, and even Thailand rookie Onnarin Sattayabanphot, who suffered a minor back injury last week when she tried to put on her name tag.

But Stacy Lewis' name appears nowhere, even though she won some $162,000 in last week's Open – a one-event figure that would have put her 80th on the LPGA's money list for the entire 2007 season. The U.S. Women's Open, however, doesn't count on the LPGA list because it is not co-sponsored by the LPGA. This leaves Lewis likely heading to the Tour Qualifying School so she can play a full schedule next year.

"The only thing that could have helped me was to win," Lewis said after the Open.

She's playing this weekend in the Northwest Arkansas Championship, one of six events she can play this year – including the Open – to earn enough "real" money to get her exemption from Q school. The LPGA policy protects the established players and tries to prevent someone like Lewis from blasting through the Open and earning her tour card without the weekly grind.

But Lewis is the real thing. Last year, as a junior at the University of Arkansas, she tied for fifth at the Kraft Nabisco Championship. And then she won the NCAA championship.

Current star Ochoa, as she showed at the Open, won't win every week. Sorenstam is leaving. Lewis has all the tools and personality to be the next streak of light on the Tour.

And the LPGA is going to send her to Q school. Great idea.

Then again, just like the men's tour these days, it can have the perfect scenario: A Sunday leaderboard that looks like it was stolen from the federal witness protection program.

From Steady Burn comes this tale of golfing woe. It happened in Milwaukee, but it could happen to you. Seems some folks were playing at the Brynwood (not to be confused with Bushwood) Golf Club and...

When the party of six, four golfers and two caddies, reached the 16th tee shortly after 11 a.m. a lone gunman emerged from nearby woods and said, "Give me your money," according to police. Armed with a handgun and covering his face with a mask, the gunman robbed two of the golfers and one of the caddies before fleeing into the woods at the club ...

Best part of the story? The guys kept on playing. Now that's dedication! Who's going to let some punk thief deprive you of the final two holes of your round?

The gun would appear to be an essential aspect of the crime; you don't want to go challenging golfers with just a knife, seeing as how they've got a lot more reach with their driver.

Let's hope this doesn't become a trend; golf is already difficult enough to explain away to our significant others without having to add on the fact that we lost the cash and credit cards to some random thug.

Then again, there are other golf course crimes that some would call victimless, and other golf course victims whose crime remains unsolved. Sounds like a job for CSI: Nineteenth Hole to me.

"When I'm done (urinating) into the cup who fixes the two huge depressions in the green where my knees sunk in?"

"If I want to pee into the cup while I'm still in the fringe can my caddy leave the flag in?"

Ok, I obviously made those up. Except for the second one. (That Daly. What a nut).

Anyway, this is indeed an historic week, a time when pro golfers join athletes in other sports such as baseball in saying, "We are athletes and we are drug-free and we are proud and… wow, is that a hot air balloon or is Barry Bonds wearing a brightly colored hat?"

Last year each golfer got a 40-page manual detailing which drugs are allowed and which are not. On the approved list are most over-the-counter pain relievers such as Tylenol, while heavy-duty, pain-killing, mind-numbing narcotics such as morphine are not allowed. Although an exception to that rule will be granted for any player who is paired with Sergio Garcia.

Not everyone, as you might guess, is happy. Take U.S. Open runner-up Rocco Mediate, who said this: "This is the biggest joke in the history of the world." (Footnote: This knocks the one about "a priest, a rabbi, Jack Nicklaus, Abraham Lincoln and a monkey named Kenny walk into a bar" down to No. 2 on the list.)

More from Rocco, who has, according to TV announcer Johnny Miller, repeatedly tested positive for high levels of chlorine from falling into Tiger Woods' pool: "It's stupid. There's nothing we can take to help in golf. We're not Olympians here. If I take steroids, I'm not going to shoot better scores."

Which is probably true.

But I think I speak for many of us who love the game when I say this about steroid use: After you miss that next three-foot, $25 putt, think of how much better you'll feel when you scream, "$8%#%$" whirl around twice and throw your putter 1,500 yards.

Arkush: Seeing the game grow around the world is one thing; seeing the U.S. being so thoroughly dominated is another. Just like in women's tennis, when there are few Americans competing for the top prize in major championships, women's golf suffers in pure drama, and the LPGA can not afford a dip in that area if it wants to attract a greater fan base. It already is far overshadowed by the Tiger Tour. American players comprise an essential part of the landscape. They don't have to win the big events all the time, or even half the time, but eight of 35 is pathetic.

Eubanks: Last time I checked Maria Sharapova and Ana Ivanovic were pretty popular. And just like women's tennis, the international influence in women's golf has opened a treasure trove of riches unseen a decade ago. Korean television rights are a huge cash cow for the LPGA, and people from Stockholm to Tokyo tune in every week to watch the women's tour, a phenomenon the men would love. As for winning more majors, there's one easy answer for the Americans: just play better. Lowest score still wins.
 
Arkush: The average fan in the United States could care less about how much money the LPGA takes in every year. The average fan cares about personalities they can better relate to. No doubt Lorena Ochoa, Annika Sorenstam, Se Ri Pak, and a sizable chunk of the other elite foreign players have become compelling characters to follow in women's golf. But the scarcity of top-level American competitors–there are only three U.S. players in the top 15 in the latest world rankings–leaves a definite hole in the sport.

So for those of you Tiger-starved fans, here are some tidbits for you to chew on, digest, and regurgitate. Those of you who aren't Tiger fans can skip right to the regurgitation:

• Did you buy tickets to the AT&T National in Bethesda, Md. hoping to see the tournament's host, one Mr. Woods, in action? Hope you can scalp 'em, because Tiger has decided to rest and won't be making the trip.

• Along those same lines, CNBC's Darren Rovell questions whether sponsors should be entitled to some of their money back if their big-name attraction decides not to show up.

• ESPN's Jason Sobel believes Tiger will come back stronger than ever. He'd better, or golf won't make Sportscenter ever again.

• Interested in the technique used to repair Woods' knee? It's called a "double-bundle," and if it works, it's going to make its creator a very wealthy doc.

That's it for now ... stay tuned for our plan to actually auction off excess chunks of Tiger Woods' knee cartilage. (No, not really, of course. But somebody would if they could.)

However, he's also riding at the top of the golf world right now following a win at Sunday's Buick Open. That makes two tournament wins in June and six top-six finishes for Perry in his last six tourneys. Not bad for a guy within spitting distance of 50, huh? Perry is now ranked third in Ryder Cup standings and second in the FedEx Cup standings, assuming Tiger Woods sticks to his word and doesn't come back until next year.

Here's another interesting fact about Perry. Seems he tried and failed twice to reach Q-school. On his third attempt, a benefactor staked him $5,000, with the stipulation that Perry didn't have to pay him back, just pay 5 percent of his lifetime earnings. It turned out to be a great deal; Perry passed $20 million in career earnings in 2006. The money goes to the benefactor's alma mater, Lipscomb University.

So if all of Perry's competitors for the Fedex Cup end up kneecapped, and Perry takes home the $10 million prize, I'd start looking right here for suspects.

Stacy Lewis, in her first tournament as a pro, is currently leading the U.S. Women's Open. Not bad, huh? Amid all the Ochoa/Wie/Annika hype -- in which, yes, we participate -- Ms. Lewis is on the brink of stunning the golf world. Can she keep it going for one more day? Is she a female Rocco? (Would you even want to see a female Rocco?) Will one of the announcers figure some way to slag her heritage? Tune in and see. And voice your thoughts on the tournament right here. Tee off!

Oops. My mistake. That's not what happened.

I must have been thinking of this week's U.S. Women's Open.

Imagine this: LPGA superstars Lorena Ochoa and Annika Sorenstam didn't really show up for the Open. At the halfway point neither was in serious contention. It was shocking. Like finding out Ian Poulter is not in contention in the Funny Pants Contest. Or that Jack Nicklaus isn't in contention in the Good-God-How-Long-Can-You-Stand-Over-A-Three-Foot-Putt Contest.

Or that I'm not in contention in the Idiot Contest.

The men's U.S. Open a couple of weeks ago reminded us of a few things. One, of course, is that Tiger Woods could apparently beat every other golfer on earth even if he had a wooden leg and a parrot on his shoulder. ("Squaawwkk! Phil's in the rough again. Squaaawwkkk!")

The other reminder was that top-level drama requires the right actors. In that amazing men's Open – decided on the 91st hole – we had Woods playing the role of Zeus, the most powerful god. And, and according to TV announcer Johnny Miller, we had Rocco Mediate playing the role of Chlorinaeus, the guy who cleans Zeus' pool.

Now we have the women's Open, where a whole bunch of Davids were duking it out. Meanwhile, Goliath has spent a lot of time over there in the trees, thrashing around in the tall grass and mumbling in Spanish. And Zeus, well, Zeus has a bad case of the yips and looks about as comfortable on the greens as a guy in a nudist camp who's just been told he's the catcher on the baseball team.

Ochoa came into the Open on a breathtaking run. She had won a startling six of the 10 tournaments she entered this year, a feeding frenzy not seen since the night the owner of a fish and chips diner in London accidentally welcomed Colin Montgomerie on all-you-can-eat night. (A week later the London Times ran this story: "Puzzled Biologists Say Haddock Now Extinct").

Anyway, Ochoa was smoking hot.

"I'm ready for this one," she said before the first round.

Uh-huh.

And then there's Sorenstam. Retiring, you know. Her 15th and last U.S. Open. Nostalgia. Sentiment. Final hurrah and all.

But golf, as anyone who plays the game knows, doesn't much care about any of that. What it mostly cares about is putting. And Sorenstam has putted in the 2008 Open like someone who is being Tasered.

She needed 66 putts in the first two rounds. By comparison, the great Tiger also had 66 putts. Between 2001 and 2006. (I'm just kidding, of course. He had 67 putts during that span.)

Sorenstam, the 10-time major winner and three-time U.S. Open winner, said this about her putting stroke: "It's short and jabby and then the ball sometimes jumps and you don't get the roll you want."

I think I speak for all of us who love the game so much when I say this to the talented and brilliant Swede: "Velcoom tu zee klubb."

Lonnie Nielsen -- not, of course, to be confused with Leslie Nielsen of Airplane! and Naked Gun fame -- is the defending champion at this weekend's Commerce Bank Championship in New York. And it's easy to see why -- while his highest finish in a major was a tie for 11th at the 1986 PGA Championship, the dude is friggin' money in New York tournaments. All but a fraction of his 36 professional wins have come in New York; he's like some kind of superhero whose powers don't function once he gets outside the Empire State.

At this writing, Nielsen is only one shot off the lead, and if I were the field, I'd be terrified. You're on Lonnie Nielsen's turf now, guys. And remember, if you're thinking of challenging him ... he knows Nordberg. I think.

Enter the Wilhelmina 7 -- not to be confused with the Oceanic 6 -- a group of seven LPGA pros who are now being represented by Wilhelmina Artist Management, part of the same group that also includes Fergie and Heather Graham in its stable. (Hmmm ... should I say "stable" when referring to women? Let's just say "roster" instead.)

Anyway, where you stand on this issue probably depends on where you stand on women's sports as a whole. If you prefer the sporting aspect and believe that the gender of the participant is irrelevant, this is probably the kind of thing that makes your blood boil. On the other hand, if you think of sports as part of the total female package, so to speak, you're probably cool with it. The Wilhelmina 7 (which does not, by the way, include Gulbis) will be posing in all kinds of cute outfits, including swimsuits, evening gowns, and other glamorous apparel that isn't seen often on the links. (Check that: isn't seen often enough.)

Me, I'm for anything that raises the profile of the LPGA. And yes, it's very easy to say that this is exploitative of women, but the Wilhelmina 7 don't exactly resemble a group of kidnapped golfers smuggled here in a shipping container. (Jezebel has a different take on the issue, and makes a good point about the skeeviness of the guy in charge of the whole program.)

We shall see if a similar program makes its way over to the PGA. Phil, don't spend too much time sitting by the phone.

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"I want to be more consistent!" I hear this from so many of my students. Consistency is almost impossible in the game of golf. Even Tiger can shoot 62 one day and 72 the next. Is that consistent? The bottom line is that we are human, and our bodies are different every day. We do our best to swing consistently, but it does not always happen. That is what makes the short game so important, as it helps us make up for full-swing mistakes.

The one place I think a golfer can be consistent is what he does before he hits a ball. The way I look at it, poor aim and alignment is a mental error while hooking or slicing is a physical error. Observe how to set up for proper aim and alignment:

You should practice this like you would practice your swing. If you go to a tour event, you will see all kinds of alignment aids on the ground on the practice tee. Tour players are so good that they can make their balls go to the target even with poor aim and alignment. Unfortunately, they have to alter their swings to make this happen, which eventually leads to poor swing mechanics. Setting up correctly matches up with good swing mechanics, and now you are well on your way to better golf.

It is important to realize that on the golf course, we tend to aim and align ourselves based on our ball flight tendencies. If you are a right-handed golfer who hooks the ball, you will tend to aim right. If you are right-handed golfer who slices the ball, you will tend to aim left.  In short, correct aim and alignment does not guarantee good swing mechanics, but it helps! My recommendation is to spend some of your practice time with an alignment aid so it becomes more second nature on the golf course. 

The players with the best alignment tend to be the straight hitters. Annika Sorenstam and Fred Funk tend to be good aimers. They also tend to hit a v