The Open 2015
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Larry Gude
Strung Out
Just as long as he doesn't contend again. Far too stressful watching him wear out when it's in reach
Tilted
..
That may have been the most heartbreaking thing I've witnessed in my sports spectator life, even as a life-long Redskins fan.
I suspect he had millions of people cautiously emotionally invested in the hope that he could finish the deal, and that by the time he hit his approach shot on 18 most of them had allowed themselves to be all-in on that investment. Exciting, hopeful stuff. To me, uplifting stuff - life-refreshing I'd say.
That said, I don't think he has it in him anymore to contend over the course of four rounds. I think he is, remarkably, still pretty darn close to being able to. But I think the window of plausible opportunity has closed.
Larry Gude
Strung Out
Yup. It was awful. He was simply spent and doing all he could do to just finish. Awful. But that is part of why we are fans.
Tilted
..
See, for me it wasn't awful. Yeah, it would have been great if he'd have been able to finish the amazing feat. It would have made for an all-time great sports story, and an incredibly inspiring one. But I think it was pretty darn inspiring anyway, and the experience of getting to watch it and root for him and hope for him was still very enjoyable, quite invigorating, what I like to call life-affirming.
When it comes to things like sports - things that by their nature are more representational life experiences than essential life experiences, where their value is in their substitution for normal life challenges - it is the fight that matters. It is having the chance that matters, struggling to succeed that matters, the experience that matters. That's the whole point. We create the rewards and accolades so that the struggle seems important, so that it feels real. But the accompaniments of success are there to facilitate the experience, to enrich it; the experience isn't there to facilitate the accompaniments or the success. It's an aspect of life where the adage, in its various forms, holds true - it's the journey, not the destination.
To be clear, in other aspects of life that's not the case - or not as much the case. It's the accomplishment itself, and what goes with it, that matters. But in this case especially, with Mr. Watson, the fight was the thing. And we got to vicariously experience that fight with him. Whether he has 5 Open titles to his name or 6, he has to go down as the greatest Open golfer and champion in the modern era. And I suspect he has enough cash that the prize money wouldn't have changed his life much. And he's rightfully beloved and his character admired regardless. Winning would have been great for him, I'm sure he wanted it very badly. But after the fact it can only matter so much. It was in the wanting - in those moments when he was playing and trying to win - that the greatest value could be found. Win or lose, that couldn't be taken away. He got to live that again, one more time - all the way until the last stroke on a Sunday evening at the Open. He got to be the great Tom Watson again, with his game firing on all cylinders and hoards of golfing fans - perhaps more than ever - rooting him on. He got a chance to once again be the best and he got the thrill that comes with the realization of that chance - the thrill of butterflies challenging his mind's control over his body and calling into question his ability to precisely execute simple motions he'd been doing all his life. I suspect he didn't think he would get to feel those things again (or at least wasn't sure he would), but he did. That's the prize, that's what he earned with his amazing play that week. And he got to inspire countless people on to who knows what - to reaching for things they might not have thought possible.
I can be happy for him for that even though he didn't win. He still got that. And we got what sports fans get, the thrill of rooting for him and the experience of hope that what we desire will come to pass. Really, what difference does it make in my life that Tom Watson did or didn't win the 2009 Open? Or that the Redskins did or didn't win the 2014 Super Bowl? As sports fans what we get is the experience, the hope. If we think there's more than that to be had, we've let ourselves go too far into (or rather, stay too long in) the illusion. The illusion that a particular team or competitor winning matters to our lives is only there to facilitate the experience, and that illusion need only be temporary to fulfill that purpose. Once a game is over, or a championship is won, it's time to move on to the next such illusion.
So, anyway, far from being an awful thing, that Tom Watson performance was terrific for me. I thank him for it. In that moment immediately following his failure to get it done, it was heartbreaking. That was the way that particular sports fan experience got metabolized, that's the way that some of them are. But metabolized it was; a source of life-affirming energy it became. And thus, at this point and as is the case with many things in life, it is the memory of the experience that is left and that matters - and I mean the experience of hoping and rooting for him, not the experience of knowing the result.
(Plus, by him not winning we got the bonus of Stewart Cink - to whom such a victory probably mattered more in real terms - winning.)
Larry Gude
Strung Out
See, for me it wasn't awful. Yeah, it would have been great if he'd have been able to finish the amazing feat. It would have made for an all-time great sports story,It would have been THE greatest sports story of our recorded time. Bar none. and an incredibly inspiring one. But I think it was pretty darn inspiring anyway, and the experience of getting to watch it and root for him and hope for him was still very enjoyable, quite invigorating, what I like to call life-affirming.
When it comes to things like sports - things that by their nature are more representational life experiences than essential life experiences, where their value is in their substitution for normal life challenges - it is the fight that matters. It is having the chance that matters, struggling to succeed that matters, the experience that matters. That's the whole point. We create the rewards and accolades so that the struggle seems important, so that it feels real. But the accompaniments of success are there to facilitate the experience, to enrich it; the experience isn't there to facilitate the accompaniments or the success. It's an aspect of life where the adage, in its various forms, holds true - it's the journey, not the destination. Not in this case. Tom already made the journey, the fights, the struggles, the heart breaks, the soaring success, over decades. To make the cut at 60 is beyond imagination. To still be in contention Saturday night, outrageous. To be LEADING to the last freaking hole Sunday evening??? Simply unthinkable. That's not even acceptable as pure 100% Rocky fantasy. To then have to go play four more holes, done, spent, finished, the cruelest thing I've ever seen in sport that didn't involve actual physical harm.
To be clear, in other aspects of life that's not the case - or not as much the case. It's the accomplishment itself, and what goes with it, that matters. But in this case especially, with Mr. Watson, the fight was the thing. And we got to vicariously experience that fight with him. Whether he has 5 Open titles to his name or 6, he has to go down as the greatest Open golfer and champion in the modern era. And I suspect he has enough cash that the prize money wouldn't have changed his life much. And he's rightfully beloved and his character admired regardless. Winning would have been great for him, I'm sure he wanted it very badly. But after the fact it can only matter so much. It was in the wanting - in those moments when he was playing and trying to win - that the greatest value could be found. Win or lose, that couldn't be taken away. He got to live that again, one more time - all the way until the last stroke on a Sunday evening at the Open. He got to be the great Tom Watson again, with his game firing on all cylinders and hoards of golfing fans - perhaps more than ever - rooting him on. He got a chance to once again be the best and he got the thrill that comes with the realization of that chance - the thrill of butterflies challenging his mind's control over his body and calling into question his ability to precisely execute simple motions he'd been doing all his life. I suspect he didn't think he would get to feel those things again (or at least wasn't sure he would), but he did. That's the prize, that's what he earned with his amazing play that week. And he got to inspire countless people on to who knows what - to reaching for things they might not have thought possible. Not one loss, ever, was the result of physical failure. it is one thing to blow it, to pull the putt, to choke, whatever. It is quite another to reach the point where it is right there and you simply have given EVERYTHING to have and there is NOTHING left. Beyond heartbreak. This was damn near watching a man who could no longer struggle silently and with nothing left but dignity, slide beneath the waves.
I can be happy for him for that even though he didn't win. He still got that. And we got what sports fans get, the thrill of rooting for him and the experience of hope that what we desire will come to pass. Not me. This was so FAR beyond ANYTHING I can even think of, making the cut, contending, having it WON, I mean, this is Micheal Jordan coming back at 60 and having a free throw to win a title. This is Cal Ripken at 60 needing only to field a slow roller and throw to first to win the World Series. This is Gretzky at 60 with an empty net and whiffing on it to lose the Cup. This is Secretariat, at, what, 12 years, with 12 lengths breaking down right before the line. Really, what difference does it make in my life that Tom Watson did or didn't win the 2009 Open? Or that the Redskins did or didn't win the 2014 Super Bowl? The Redskins had every tool necessary, youth, strength, ability and simply lacked the talent, skill and coaching. They COULD have. There is NO way, ever, Tom Watson contends on the weekend. NONE. Making the cut is ridiculous. As sports fans what we get is the experience, the hope. If we think there's more than that to be had, we've let ourselves go too far into (or rather, stay too long in) the illusion. The illusion that a particular team or competitor winning matters to our lives is only there to facilitate the experience, and that illusion need only be temporary to fulfill that purpose. Once a game is over, or a championship is won, it's time to move on to the next such illusion. In any other context I'd agree but Watson in '09 is in a chapter to itself in a book with nothing else in it in a library with ONE book.
So, anyway, far from being an awful thing, that Tom Watson performance was terrific for me. I thank him for it. In that moment immediately following his failure to get it done, it was heartbreaking. That was the way that particular sports fan experience got metabolized, that's the way that some of them are. But metabolized it was; a source of life-affirming energy it became. And thus, at this point and as is the case with many things in life, it is the memory of the experience that is left and that matters - and I mean the experience of hoping and rooting for him, not the experience of knowing the result.
(Plus, by him not winning we got the bonus of Stewart Cink - to whom such a victory probably mattered more in real terms - winning.)
Cruel. That he went on and still plays after that, THAT is the real story here. The REAL affirmation.
There is Watson '09 and that's it. There is NOTHING else that even comes close.
Tilted
..
I agree Larry, for me that would have made for the greatest sports story ever had he won it. As it went, it's still one of the greatest.
I think our disagreement may boil down, more or less, to this: You think it would have been an amazing, unbelievable, indescribably awesome thing had he won. I agree. But you think, because he didn't, it's tragic. I think it's just not quite as amazing, not quite as unbelievable, not quite as indescribably awesome, because he didn't win. I think it was still something truly wonderful and I'm thankful for having been able to witness it and having experienced the hope - not knowing the result. Because it was that experience that means something to me (and a whole lot more to him I suspect), not so much how I'd get to feel afterward depending on whether he actually won or not. The result was never going to be the defining aspect of the memory for me, the thrill of rooting for him fighting to win was going to be. The actual result has no ability to alter that, only that he was (or wasn't) in it until the end did.
Maybe I'm misreading you a bit and what you think is tragic is just the reality that he didn't win. That you still think the whole thing was - for you, the whole memory is - great despite him not winning?
I think we also disagree some about why he didn't win. I didn't see it as him being so exhausted, having given it everything he had, to execute at the very end (at least, on hole 72). He was exhausted, sure. But I think it was those butterflies I referred to earlier. In that final moment, realizing it was right there for him if he just executed, I think the adrenaline got him. He wasn't able to control the stuff going on in his body at that moment - it had been so long since he'd been in that kinda pressure situation. He may never have been in THAT kinda situation with the sensations it offered up, I don't know that any golfer has. It wasn't just winning a major championship, this was the chance to do something truly unique in its specialness, something truly historic. I think the rush of adrenaline got him. There's no way you hit that approach shot over the green. No way. You pick a club that has no chance to leave you over the green. You pick a club that leaves you 40 feet short and make your 2-putt. But the adrenaline got him, and the ball took off - he didn't do the most important thing in golf, and for top pros the most basic, control his distance. I think that had to be caused by an unusual rush of adrenaline. But maybe I'm remembering things wrong.
When I play golf I want very badly to score well. I want to win whatever game I have going on with the group or with particular golfing buddies. It matters to me. But only until I've holed the last putt. Once I've done that, I don't much care what happened in that round - what is now the last (i.e. the previous) round. The competitive desire to win doesn't make it off the 18th green, the round just becomes something to laugh about - to have enjoyed with my buddies - regardless of how well or poorly it went. At least, that is what I aspire to. I probably don't always achieve that mindset, but for the most part I do. Every now and then a round or a putt or a shot stays with me for a bit. My point is, that's kinda how I experience spectating sports as well - or hope to.
I think our disagreement may boil down, more or less, to this: You think it would have been an amazing, unbelievable, indescribably awesome thing had he won. I agree. But you think, because he didn't, it's tragic. I think it's just not quite as amazing, not quite as unbelievable, not quite as indescribably awesome, because he didn't win. I think it was still something truly wonderful and I'm thankful for having been able to witness it and having experienced the hope - not knowing the result. Because it was that experience that means something to me (and a whole lot more to him I suspect), not so much how I'd get to feel afterward depending on whether he actually won or not. The result was never going to be the defining aspect of the memory for me, the thrill of rooting for him fighting to win was going to be. The actual result has no ability to alter that, only that he was (or wasn't) in it until the end did.
Maybe I'm misreading you a bit and what you think is tragic is just the reality that he didn't win. That you still think the whole thing was - for you, the whole memory is - great despite him not winning?
I think we also disagree some about why he didn't win. I didn't see it as him being so exhausted, having given it everything he had, to execute at the very end (at least, on hole 72). He was exhausted, sure. But I think it was those butterflies I referred to earlier. In that final moment, realizing it was right there for him if he just executed, I think the adrenaline got him. He wasn't able to control the stuff going on in his body at that moment - it had been so long since he'd been in that kinda pressure situation. He may never have been in THAT kinda situation with the sensations it offered up, I don't know that any golfer has. It wasn't just winning a major championship, this was the chance to do something truly unique in its specialness, something truly historic. I think the rush of adrenaline got him. There's no way you hit that approach shot over the green. No way. You pick a club that has no chance to leave you over the green. You pick a club that leaves you 40 feet short and make your 2-putt. But the adrenaline got him, and the ball took off - he didn't do the most important thing in golf, and for top pros the most basic, control his distance. I think that had to be caused by an unusual rush of adrenaline. But maybe I'm remembering things wrong.
When I play golf I want very badly to score well. I want to win whatever game I have going on with the group or with particular golfing buddies. It matters to me. But only until I've holed the last putt. Once I've done that, I don't much care what happened in that round - what is now the last (i.e. the previous) round. The competitive desire to win doesn't make it off the 18th green, the round just becomes something to laugh about - to have enjoyed with my buddies - regardless of how well or poorly it went. At least, that is what I aspire to. I probably don't always achieve that mindset, but for the most part I do. Every now and then a round or a putt or a shot stays with me for a bit. My point is, that's kinda how I experience spectating sports as well - or hope to.
Larry Gude
Strung Out
I agree Larry, for me that would have made for the greatest sports story ever had he won it. As it went, it's still one of the greatest.
I think our disagreement may boil down, more or less, to this: You think it would have been an amazing, unbelievable, indescribably awesome thing had he won. I agree. But you think, because he didn't, it's tragic. I think it's just not quite as amazing, not quite as unbelievable, not quite as indescribably awesome, because he didn't win. I think it was still something truly wonderful and I'm thankful for having been able to witness it and having experienced the hope - not knowing the result. Because it was that experience that means something to me (and a whole lot more to him I suspect), not so much how I'd get to feel afterward depending on whether he actually won or not. The result was never going to be the defining aspect of the memory for me, the thrill of rooting for him fighting to win was going to be. The actual result has no ability to alter that, only that he was (or wasn't) in it until the end did.
Maybe I'm misreading you a bit and what you think is tragic is just the reality that he didn't win. That you still think the whole thing was - for you, the whole memory is - great despite him not winning? How do I say this? IF he was 50 and came close it would have been thrilling. 51, 52, maybe even 55. That he was 50 and so ENORMOUSLY above the wildest remotely plausible fantasy of who could win the British Open, I mean, there is NOTHING that comes remotely close to this and, on that basis, so epic, so singular, ONE putt. One damnable putt.
I think we also disagree some about why he didn't win. I didn't see it as him being so exhausted, having given it everything he had, to execute at the very end (at least, on hole 72). He was exhausted, sure. But I think it was those butterflies I referred to earlier. In that final moment, realizing it was right there for him if he just executed, I think the adrenaline got him. It would be interesting to watch it together, the final 9, and see if we still have the same differing impressions. To me, I saw an athlete expend it ALL at an age he had NO business making the cut let alone be ONE putt from WINNING. I didn't see nerves or butterflies. The last couple holes I just felt him draining away, beaten physically. Barely able to finish. That he then went on a even walked 4 more holes let alone play, epic. Epic, epic. I saw a man simply depleted. Entirely. He wasn't able to control the stuff going on in his body at that moment - it had been so long since he'd been in that kinda pressure situation. He may never have been in THAT kinda situation with the sensations it offered up, I don't know that any golfer has. It wasn't just winning a major championship, this was the chance to do something truly unique in its specialness, something truly historic. I think the rush of adrenaline got him. There's no way you hit that approach shot over the green. No way. You pick a club that has no chance to leave you over the green. You pick a club that leaves you 40 feet short and make your 2-putt. But the adrenaline got him, and the ball took off - he didn't do the most important thing in golf, and for top pros the most basic, control his distance. I think that had to be caused by an unusual rush of adrenaline. But maybe I'm remembering things wrong.
When I play golf I want very badly to score well. I want to win whatever game I have going on with the group or with particular golfing buddies. It matters to me. But only until I've holed the last putt. Once I've done that, I don't much care what happened in that round - what is now the last (i.e. the previous) round. The competitive desire to win doesn't make it off the 18th green, the round just becomes something to laugh about - to have enjoyed with my buddies - regardless of how well or poorly it went. At least, that is what I aspire to. I probably don't always achieve that mindset, but for the most part I do. Every now and then a round or a putt or a shot stays with me for a bit. My point is, that's kinda how I experience spectating sports as well - or hope to.
I quit because EVERY stroke stayed with me. I've never played something so damnably hard and so unforgiving and indifferent to effort and practice. Tiger spoiled a generation by making people think that level of play over time was plausible. We got used to a ridiculous level of gold their for 15 years.
I think Tom was failing physically. I'm older than you and about 10 behind him. When you get that tired, you lose feeling, you certainly lose focus. Being able to gather yourself is virtually impossible. It's a whole different sort of fatigue. I liken it to the old bull finally succumbing to the younger one because he simply has nothing left.
Tilted
..
They replayed Tom's approach to the 72nd hole in 2009 yesterday. I might have been misremembering it.
It looked like there was a pretty good wind behind him, and the ball rolled a good bit to finish off the green (and into little bit heavier rough). So I'm not so sure that was adrenaline. He just didn't (as it turned out) hit the right club and it rolled too far past the hole. It was still the wrong miss in that situation, but an understandable one. I don't necessarily think it was exhaustion either though. The playoff, that's another matter - he may have been too beat by then to have much of a chance.
Anyway, my heart broke all over again watching the replays of that 72nd hole. But pretty quickly I was right back to feeling good about it and feeling good for him and what it must have been like to be in that moment, to have that day and that week.
It looked like there was a pretty good wind behind him, and the ball rolled a good bit to finish off the green (and into little bit heavier rough). So I'm not so sure that was adrenaline. He just didn't (as it turned out) hit the right club and it rolled too far past the hole. It was still the wrong miss in that situation, but an understandable one. I don't necessarily think it was exhaustion either though. The playoff, that's another matter - he may have been too beat by then to have much of a chance.
Anyway, my heart broke all over again watching the replays of that 72nd hole. But pretty quickly I was right back to feeling good about it and feeling good for him and what it must have been like to be in that moment, to have that day and that week.
Larry Gude
Strung Out
Oh, btw, Paul Azinger referred to Tiger as a middle of the pack hack - not cruely, he was kinda showing sympathy for him.
I feel for Tiger and root for him to get it together, but man... that was funny.
Dan steinberg wrote one of the silliest pieces I've ever read in the post yesterday about tiger. Did a Willie mays comparison.
PsyOps
Pixelated
This is the saga of The Open - the weather. Every time I watch this tournament, I think of those guys smacking rocks around passing the time while tending their sheep, in the rain and wind just like today. Look at what they invented. If they only knew.
Tilted
..
Oh Phil. After all these years, Phil is still Phil - maybe more so these days than ever. If you're rooting for him, he takes you on a roller coaster. That's part of why so many root for him and love to watch him play.
Through 16 holes today he played one of the best rounds of golf you'll ever see. He was 6 under even though he'd missed maybe a half dozen very makeable birdie putts. It seemed like he had a chance on almost every hole and for a moment it looked like he might actually be playing himself into a chance to win from 8 strokes back - if the weather turned bad enough for the leaders.
But then he hooked his tee shot on #17. It came to rest on a balcony of the hotel. I'm not sure how that happened, it was a small balcony a floor or two up with what looked like a concrete floor. But that's out of bounds. He made a triple bogey and that was that, maybe next time...
Through 16 holes today he played one of the best rounds of golf you'll ever see. He was 6 under even though he'd missed maybe a half dozen very makeable birdie putts. It seemed like he had a chance on almost every hole and for a moment it looked like he might actually be playing himself into a chance to win from 8 strokes back - if the weather turned bad enough for the leaders.
But then he hooked his tee shot on #17. It came to rest on a balcony of the hotel. I'm not sure how that happened, it was a small balcony a floor or two up with what looked like a concrete floor. But that's out of bounds. He made a triple bogey and that was that, maybe next time...
Tilted
..
It's part of why I think the Open is the best major. No human decides how hard the course is going to play or what it will take to win. Mother Nature decides.
PsyOps
Pixelated
I just get a little annoyed that I don't get to watch the finish when it extends into Monday.