Link is here, a short, wry comment on the degradation of language that has led us to this present impasse.
OS, meanwhile, will turn his attentions to The Open Championship.
Live feed is on that site, as well as PGA.com and Facebook. Satellite TV feed features four channels. OS is watching the UK feed, since the ESPN staff feels compelled to chatter and gossip endlessly. They think the event is about them, poor boys.
Showing posts with label Open Championship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Open Championship. Show all posts
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Oosthuizen Takes His Walk Up 18 At St. Andrews
And finally allows himself that smile of relief. A brief hug with his caddy as he walks off the tee, after seeing his tee shot land safely on the right side of the green, well away from the Valley of Sin. No need for heroics with a seven-stroke lead.
The wife, holding the baby daughter, daubing tears from her eyes. The occasional South African flag waving. The put for par drops, the big smile, the big kiss from his bride, and the kiss for his baby girl. The warm applause. The engraver adding his name to the Claret Jug. The calm, smiling young man, modestly talking with the BBC interviewer. Credit given to Ernie Els for mentoring the young champion.
The bookies had him at 200-1 on Wednesday, and here he is on Sunday.
Polite, cheerful, sober crowds in the stands. No vuvuzelas! No riots. No storefronts smashed. No one, on either the field of play or in the stands, injured. No players cursing at referees, no ejections, no yellow cards, no grudge matches, no controversies about the score. No vitriol from the runners-up, and no gloating or trash-talk from the winner. No multi-million dollar long-term contracts from teams that use municipal bonds to build stadiums that will be abandoned long before the term of the debt issue.
The low amateur, Mr. Jang, is recognized first, with a silver medal.
The runner-up, Mr. Westwood, is recognized with a silver tray.
Mr. Oosterhuizen gets the gold medal, the Claret Jug, and begins his remarks by wishing Mr. Mandela a happy 92nd birthday. Thanks to the R&A, his mom and dad, to his mentor Ernie Els, to the fans, Mr. Gary Player, and his wife and baby.
It's a great game. It's everything the NBA, NFL, NASCAR, and Premiere League aren't.
The wife, holding the baby daughter, daubing tears from her eyes. The occasional South African flag waving. The put for par drops, the big smile, the big kiss from his bride, and the kiss for his baby girl. The warm applause. The engraver adding his name to the Claret Jug. The calm, smiling young man, modestly talking with the BBC interviewer. Credit given to Ernie Els for mentoring the young champion.
The bookies had him at 200-1 on Wednesday, and here he is on Sunday.
Polite, cheerful, sober crowds in the stands. No vuvuzelas! No riots. No storefronts smashed. No one, on either the field of play or in the stands, injured. No players cursing at referees, no ejections, no yellow cards, no grudge matches, no controversies about the score. No vitriol from the runners-up, and no gloating or trash-talk from the winner. No multi-million dollar long-term contracts from teams that use municipal bonds to build stadiums that will be abandoned long before the term of the debt issue.
The low amateur, Mr. Jang, is recognized first, with a silver medal.
The runner-up, Mr. Westwood, is recognized with a silver tray.
Mr. Oosterhuizen gets the gold medal, the Claret Jug, and begins his remarks by wishing Mr. Mandela a happy 92nd birthday. Thanks to the R&A, his mom and dad, to his mentor Ernie Els, to the fans, Mr. Gary Player, and his wife and baby.
It's a great game. It's everything the NBA, NFL, NASCAR, and Premiere League aren't.
The Open Championship: Final Day
OldSouth freely admits it: Golf gets in the blood, and he's got the bug.
The first groups tee off in less than an hour from this posting--no, he's not going to force himself to stay awake for the moment, just to say he did it. He'll need some sleep to tune in to the early afternoon groups. Luis Oosterhuizen (who dat?) has come from obscurity and wrestled St. Andrews to the mat for three days in a row. All he has to do stay focused, come in at a couple under, and not worry about Casey and Kaymer and Westwood turning on the afterburners to catch up. And the weather has to cooperate.
That's all.
It should be entertaining. Someone may yet ace the 18th hole. Woods came tantalizingly close on Friday, and a number of tee shots blew past the hole this week. OS cannot imagine a 300+ yard drive through the wind...but that's why he's watching it on TV, not out there doing it himself. Alas, he caught the bug some forty years too late.
And, speaking of TV, OS has truly enjoyed his DirectTV service this week, as they feature four channels of coverage--the normal ESPN feed, 1st and 18th holes, Road Hole, and the International Feed, which wins hands down. No commercials, and jolly, wonderfully informed narration of the story of the tournament by the crew that broadcasts the European Tour every week. The camera work is less detailed, with lots of tower shots, and very little whiz-bang-computer-generated stuff like helicopter shots down the fairway. But the cameras do capture the sweep of the course, and the grandeur and atmosphere of the event.
The Open is like no other event, especially at St. Andrews. Time stands still, and genteel competition and good will rule the day.
The Open Championship site here.
It features video and audio links, live scoreboard, and more, in case you can't get the TV broadcast.
Enjoy!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Even If You Don't Follow Golf...
...do yourself a favor, and tune in to The Open this weekend.
There is no place like St. Andrews, and it feeds the soul to see the old game played on The Old Course.
The Open website carries live video and radio if your local TV doesn't broadcast.
OS could not stay awake for the opening proceedings, (3 a.m. in this time zone), but his heart was mightily cheered this morning to see that young Rory McIlroy had tied the Open record for an opening round with 63, and is three strokes clear of the field at this point. He's only twenty-one, and it is a joy to watch him play. At the other end of the age spectrum (much closer to where OS exists), to see Tom Watson par the 18th for a round of one over is also cause for cheers, and the gallery certainly gave him a lot of well-deserved love.
It's a great game, with dignity and fair play woven into the very fabric of the rules and practice. OS has a colleague with an enthusiastic grade-school daughter who has embraced the game with her whole heart. Her dad just beams when he talks about his duties as her caddy, and her growth as a young lady. He's a crack pro musician, and she studies music as well. One of his proudest moments came when she connected the dots between the two disciplines.
If OS could be King For A Day, he would arrange for every child to sing in a good choir, learn a musical instrument well, and learn to love and play golf.
Who needs LeBron, when you can have sports heroes like Rory, Phil Mickleson, Vijay Singh, and Ernie Els? The bad actors, like John Daly, get to disintegrate publicly, in both game and life, occasionally showing the old magic, as he did this morning.
Mr. Woods now lives on the bubble, and both his golf and life are under scrutiny, to see if he will choose to recover. If he blows up on the course this week, it will be a long long road back. Good wishes go his way, with the hope that his really great years lie ahead.
There is no place like St. Andrews, and it feeds the soul to see the old game played on The Old Course.
The Open website carries live video and radio if your local TV doesn't broadcast.
OS could not stay awake for the opening proceedings, (3 a.m. in this time zone), but his heart was mightily cheered this morning to see that young Rory McIlroy had tied the Open record for an opening round with 63, and is three strokes clear of the field at this point. He's only twenty-one, and it is a joy to watch him play. At the other end of the age spectrum (much closer to where OS exists), to see Tom Watson par the 18th for a round of one over is also cause for cheers, and the gallery certainly gave him a lot of well-deserved love.
It's a great game, with dignity and fair play woven into the very fabric of the rules and practice. OS has a colleague with an enthusiastic grade-school daughter who has embraced the game with her whole heart. Her dad just beams when he talks about his duties as her caddy, and her growth as a young lady. He's a crack pro musician, and she studies music as well. One of his proudest moments came when she connected the dots between the two disciplines.
If OS could be King For A Day, he would arrange for every child to sing in a good choir, learn a musical instrument well, and learn to love and play golf.
Who needs LeBron, when you can have sports heroes like Rory, Phil Mickleson, Vijay Singh, and Ernie Els? The bad actors, like John Daly, get to disintegrate publicly, in both game and life, occasionally showing the old magic, as he did this morning.
Mr. Woods now lives on the bubble, and both his golf and life are under scrutiny, to see if he will choose to recover. If he blows up on the course this week, it will be a long long road back. Good wishes go his way, with the hope that his really great years lie ahead.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Welcome to the Future, Bailout Nation
Watching the Open this morning, and Tom Watson is inspiring! More on all that another time.
While surfing during ads, ran into the story on CBS about United Breaks Guitars.
It's one man's poetical revenge, posted on YouTube, on United Airlines, who negligently destroyed a prized guitar, and offered NO (that means ZERO) compensation.
With over three million views, and growing, this is a public relations disaster for United.
However, since it is one the growing number of zombie firms bailed out (during the Bush Administration), it can be confidently predicted that:
1. No one will be fired as a result of this humiliation.
2. The shareholders will not demand a change in management, even though it is patently incompetent.
3. When United bleeds more red ink(because the customers stay away in droves), Tim Geithner, with his $700 billion credit card, will send more money its way. After all, it's too big to fail, and it has a unionized work-force, whose votes need to be bought, and it's based in Chicago (now, who else do we know in Washington from Chicago?).
What this means, also, is that the 29-year-old lower-middle-management employees, who shake their heads in frustration at the stupidity of their employers at United, will not likely have the chance to create the next (functional!) incarnation of an airline, because Uncle Sam, Cousin Timmy, and Godfather Barack won't let United go under, as it should.
This is our future in Bailout America. The future is now, actually, since Flying Guitars are actually a common occurrence, and there are few victims of airline negligence and stupidity with the resources to push back with such imagination.
The airlines(and banks, and auto companies, and insurers, etc.) know this, and they know they have unlimited access to Federal largesse.
November 2010 is now fifteen months away. It's our first big opportunity to push back.
While surfing during ads, ran into the story on CBS about United Breaks Guitars.
It's one man's poetical revenge, posted on YouTube, on United Airlines, who negligently destroyed a prized guitar, and offered NO (that means ZERO) compensation.
With over three million views, and growing, this is a public relations disaster for United.
However, since it is one the growing number of zombie firms bailed out (during the Bush Administration), it can be confidently predicted that:
1. No one will be fired as a result of this humiliation.
2. The shareholders will not demand a change in management, even though it is patently incompetent.
3. When United bleeds more red ink(because the customers stay away in droves), Tim Geithner, with his $700 billion credit card, will send more money its way. After all, it's too big to fail, and it has a unionized work-force, whose votes need to be bought, and it's based in Chicago (now, who else do we know in Washington from Chicago?).
What this means, also, is that the 29-year-old lower-middle-management employees, who shake their heads in frustration at the stupidity of their employers at United, will not likely have the chance to create the next (functional!) incarnation of an airline, because Uncle Sam, Cousin Timmy, and Godfather Barack won't let United go under, as it should.
This is our future in Bailout America. The future is now, actually, since Flying Guitars are actually a common occurrence, and there are few victims of airline negligence and stupidity with the resources to push back with such imagination.
The airlines(and banks, and auto companies, and insurers, etc.) know this, and they know they have unlimited access to Federal largesse.
November 2010 is now fifteen months away. It's our first big opportunity to push back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)