Tag: Golf

[Business Day One] Times That Are, In Fact, A’Changin’

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Well well well. The internet’s still here. I swore this whole thing would’ve flamed out by now, but here it still is. Looks like the ol’ site is here too. Hello readers! I’m Serpico! And I write about sports, the business of sports, and fan reaction to sports. At least, I did, way back when. And I suppose I ought to do it again.

So let’s jump right in, shall we?

The big news this weekend is Tiger Woods-related, and I’m so happy to be able to write that. Read More

Business Day One – My Day At The Open

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Happy Belated Father’s Day, Nerds.

My dad, in honor of both his special day and the best tournament in pro golf, took me to the U.S. Open at Bethpage. I soaked in the sights, sounds, and startling Golgotha-esque levels of mud and muck. For sake of both speed and thoroughness, I’m going to list out both the Stunning Highs (SH) and Astonishing Lows (AL) of my experience at the public course at Farmingdale. Here we go.

SH: The conditions of the fairways and greens. Everyone on the East Coast has been aware of the monsoon currently soaking the seaboard. What everyone is not aware of is that there are hundreds of men and women with hundreds of grass-drying tools constantly working to keep Bethpage playable. If nature was left to its own devices, the entire town would be underwater. But due to the magnificent interference of the bold water wickers, only about 99% of it is. The remaining 1% was where the best golfers in the world were.

AL: The mud has to go somewhere. And that somewhere was the grandstands and foot paths. I’m not mad or anything, since I was wearing a pair of throwaway sneakers. But still, being on your feet for seven straight hours and having those feet constantly in mud gave me a sense of what Valley Forge might’ve been like.

SH: The quality of the play. I saw Tiger nail a birdie, Phil nail two, and players from all over the world content with the conditions with impossible levels of skill.

AL: How terrible I am at golf. Watching the highest levels of play remind me why I hung up the soft cleats a couple years back. I can’t drive without an ugly slice. My short game doesn’t come into play until I’m already one over on the whole. And I keep equating my score with my self-worth.

SH: The food and drinks. Lemonade, stuffed pretzels, hot dogs, sandwiches of all sorts, served from concessions tents spread throughout the course.

AL: The press of people at those concession stands. The lunch rush was overwhelming, and since you couldn’t bring in food or drink, there’s a good chance you could wait in line for an hour to get water. Seems dangerous, considering the number of older folks that had been hoofing it around all day.

SH: An efficient bus transportation network that connected all of the satellite parking lots.

AL: Having to pay $35 to park at a gas station due to flooding.

SH: Seven hours with my dad.

AL: Seven hours trying to keep up with my dad.

SH: The noise from the New York gallery.

AL: The failure of the golfers to keep a straight face when hearing some of the comments.

And the biggest SH of all: My clubs are now in the trunk of my car.

Rolling Along on a Sunday

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What’s going on around the blogosahedron?

Couple weeks ago, I mentioned Kyle Kendrick’s “trade” to Japan. Well, last week he got his revenge. [Balls and Sticks]

With the drunkenness of St. Patrick’s Day fast approaching, you should get your eyes adjusted to the disgusting things that you will probably see. The Florida Marlins are starting a male dance team called the Manatees (yup, like the cows of the sea — Dancing Cows of the Sea). [Ump Bump]

Tony Kornheiser is huge fan of the bloggers:

It’s a real, it’s a real mistake, and it happens. And I don’t want to single anybody out in this area, but, you know, some people sit at home and they watch TV and they watch radio and they “blog” about certain “things,” and they think they know what they’re talking about, and they think they have sources. They have no sources. They make stuff up. They’re toads. They’re little toads. Actually, they’re pimples on the behind of the greater body politic in this country and in this city (everyone in the studio cackles for no reason). And because, because they have access to airwaves and three or four people read them, they think, ‘Oh, I’m very important.’

In fact, in fact, if a huge dumpster landed on their mother’s house (cackling), and got all the way into the basement and crushed them (more cackling), nobody would care. Nobody would miss them. They provide nothing good, no service that’s any good at all. They, they are, they are, they are sucking mole rats (more cackling), and that’s the nicest I can be to them. But because, because they have a name, or, you know, because they get feedback from others, you know, they think they’re very important.

[Washington Post][Washington Post Again]

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TVlog: 5 Minutes of ESPN Firsttake

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Since Jonathan Lee Riches decided to give me a day off by suing Martha Stewart for the benefit of Rachael Ray, I had to come up with a new subject. So, in a first for NerdsOnSports, I’m going to write running commentary on what I’m watching on TV. At 11 AM. I don’t have a job to go to until Monday. So I watch things like “Firsttake” (f/k/a “Cold Pizza”) on TV. It really is this bad.

All times EDT.

11:00: OK, They’re talking about Steve Spurrier’s history vis-a-vis LSU. Interesting, perhaps, but I tuned in right in the middle, so I’m really not sure what the operative thesis is here. I think it’s something about how Spurrier’s had a great coaching career and has performed well against LSU, or hasn’t, either way he’s a football coach. Read More

I Once Heard That Golf Was A Sport

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Orange Dinosaur In Saugus, MAGolf is the businessman’s game of choice, because you can relax, drink heavily, and have conversation while still playing and not get sweaty. At least that’s my guess, for I am no businessman. So I will let Tiger Woods and the businesspeoples of the world have their golf because I get my golf delivered in other forms…

First off there is miniature golf. It’s like regular golf if you decided to play regular golf in Holland* at a castle** that was probably previously owned by Dracula trying to defend himself from Mr. Belmont***. I like miniature golf because it doesn’t take nearly as long as regular golf and there’s no slicing into the woods off the tee. Also each hole is usually a surprise and you have to guess which of the 3 holes in the barn will place the ball closest to the cup on the lower level. Also, how many PGA courses have big orange dinosaurs?

For my next crazy golf event, I give you: Underwater Golf. Read More

[Business Day One] Eye On The Tiger

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Tiger WoodsMuch to my disappointment, Tiger Woods did not capture the victory at the Masters this past weekend. The green jacket went instead to Zach Johnson, a perfectly pleasant-sounding man from Iowa. While I do not begrudge the former Drake Bulldog for outplaying everyone (include Tiger) on the beefy Par 5s of Augusta, I am still upset that the best golfer in the world didn’t take the title.

I root for Tiger Woods, for reasons that are probably a bit selfish. I want to be able to say that I watched the most dominant athlete in the world during his prime. I want the premier sportsman of the decade to be a well-educated man with no criminal record instead of a hard-luck case from Newark, NJ that overcame a murder conviction to be the best strong safety in football. I want to be able to talk about a great golfer while playing golf with other golfers. Selfish justifications, perhaps, but not bad ones.

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