Golf


I'm not exactly sure why I've gotten into golf. The combination of having Sky Sports, a flat of my own and not enough friends certainly helps. I would never call myself an expert and right now I'm a Major whore who can't be frigged with any other tournaments (oh, except that the Ryder Cup is on soon and I'll be having some of that), but even so:

The final round of the USPGA last night was fucking amazing.

It was one of those sporting occasions where all the right factors fell into place to ensure a dramatic conclusion. Harrington and Garcia resumed their battle from last year's Open, Sergio gunning for revenge but Padraig looking every inch a two-time Major winner and now with a taste for more. Behind them, the evil Ben Curtis - a man with absolutely sod all on his CV except, somehow, a flukey Major win. Surely he couldn't claim another?

Player after player had denounced the Oakland Hills course after falling victim to its brutal difficulty level, and yet last night saw these guys playing great shot after great shot amidst some pretty dire weather. Butch Harmon was creaming himself silly in the commentary box and you couldn't help but be swept along with him.

Harmon, by the way, is exemplary in the booth, as is Bruce Critchley whose mellifluous tones remind me of a more measured, less eccentric Peter Alliss. Just like the Sky darts team, who initially drove me up the wall with their constant yammering, these guys take a bit of getting used to after listening to the BBC mic men for so long, but they really are worth getting to know.

As it was, Curtis came up short (hah!), Garcia threw it away from a winning position again (sigh) and Harrington continued his unlikely ascent into the upper echelons of golf's greats. It really couldn't happen to a nicer fella. Now, what price a 3-way Tiger-Padraig-Sergio tussle at the Masters, I wonder? Poor Butch would struggle to contain himself.

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