Posted by John Anderson
My boy Stroh (best man at my wedding, friend since kindergarten and one half of the greatest JFK school yard Nerf football team ever) spent some time checking out the golfers and the girls -- not necessarily in that order -- at the FBR Open last weekend.
See, Stroh was transplanted to the Valley from Sconny several years ago, but he quickly learned the truth about tour week at the TPC Scottsdale: It ain't the birdies, it's the birds.
Stroh might not be much of a player (read: golfer); however, he is a player (read: playa) and the FBR -- Fabulous Babes Roaming -- Open provides unbelievable views of high Sonoran Desert peaks and acres of ... wait, that will never get by the editors. [Ed's note: Uh, nope.]
Anyway, when Stroh told me someone in the field caught his eye, I wasn't expecting it to be, you know, a guy. Wearing slacks. Carrying a tour card.
"Who the heck is J.B. Holmes?" asked Stroh.
"Q School medalist and, from what I hear, one ridiculously long hitter," said your typist.
"Ridiculous," said Stroh, "is a ridiculous understatement. The roof of my mouth got sunburned just watching the dude's drives."
That's great. Super. My summer golf is now ruined and it's still three months until summer. Your golf too, although reasonable playing temperatures may arrive sooner.
Long hitters, like Holmes and Tiger Woods and John Daly and Bubba Watson, drive golf balls and club sales at the speed of sound, but they slow public play to a snail's pace. Well, somewhere between a snail and Ben Crane.
Every time one of these bombers wins a tournament, there's an additional wait on the tee. Johnny Rae Shoulderturn fires up the new 460cc Exploder with deluxe graphite slammer shaft and proceeds to knock it 15 yards farther into the water or woods or halfway house. This prompts a 10-minute search (because those Pro V1x balls aren't cheap) that begins 25 yards too far down range because Johnny's certain that he "pretty much killed it." Repeat eight to 14 times, and you're staring (and standing) at a five hour-plus round.
And that's if Johnny doesn't:
A) Return to the tee to hit a second.
B) Try his Tiger miracle recovery shot (three times).
C) Spend countless minutes trying to figure where the ball crossed the hazard line.
D) Get eaten by a bear.
Add extra waiting time on par-5s, as everybody and his big dog think they can get home in two these days, on anything measuring less than 578 yards. Tick, tick, tick. Do I hear six hours?
There's more standing around doing nothing on a muni track on Saturdays than at a Border's -- only the books and scones are missing.
Technology and Tiger have combined to drive up the cost of the game and ruined the pace of play. Holmes just made it worse by launching balls into low earth orbits this past weekend in Phoenix.
Length off the tee has always been important, but there was a time when width was worth just as much.
One week out of the year, that's still true -- God bless the U.S. Open.
Now, if the group in front of me would just let me play through, then maybe I can get home in time to see the first round from Winged Foot in June.
