Hurd By The Bay

OK, so now I will be able to remember a big goal Patrick Marleau has scored. After a decade, I would hope so.

You say I’m not a big Patty fan? Guilty as charged. Nothing in particular, really. The guy has got ridiculous talent --- speed, soft hands, great vision, a feel for the game --- and without him, the Sharks would not have become one of the most consistent of the really good teams in the NHL.

But the Sharks have said their mission is not to be really good consistently. It is, rather, to be a champion. They’ve been talking that way since I covered the team at the start of century, and for years, they’ve told their customers that Marleau is a guy who can get them there.

As the years have gone by, I’ve become more and more skeptical. And I remain that way, because in victory and in loss, Marleau always seemed to be the same. I don’t want to say he struck me as a JaMarcus-type, detached and uncaring, because 1) I’m not ever around him and 2) his performance in the regular season has proven that would be an unfair assessment.

That said, I’ve just never gotten the feeling that his motor runs as hard as it needs to run to lead your team to great heights in the playoffs. It says much that for close to 10 years, Marleau has been considered the Sharks’ most talented player but that with Marleau, the team has won seven playoff games in one season only twice previously.

Interesting thing is that both the Sharks and Marleau seem to be presented with a new opportunity to paint the canvas. The Sharks have established themselves as the team to beat in the Western Conference, just as any team that takes a 3-0 lead on the New York Yankees in any baseball playoff series does the same. Marleau, and his former invisible teammate Joe Thornton, have shaken off some of the old criticisms. It’s as if the epitaph still has yet to be written.

With free agency fast approaching, what seemed to be a certainty among fans --- namely, the wish to see Marleau earn his riches elsewhere --- might be back up for debate. Should make for a fascinating few weeks, especially since the bandwagon already is getting bigger.

I've never really understood the popularity of golf. Both watching it or playing it. Still don't.

I say this because the Presidents Cup is in San Francisco this week, so every media professional I know is drooling like a bulldog. Friends are dipping into the college funds to get tickets. And golf pros are, well, being golf pros.

My friend Buzz relayed a story about an incident during a practice round. One golfer, Geoff Ogilvy, a former U.S. Open champ (who knew?), who was about to hit a 6-foot putt. He went through his routine, lined it up, etc., when off went a cell phone. Ogilvy fired the evil eye. He lined it the putt again. Again the cell phone went off. Three times this happened.

Ogilvy, apparently, was ready to sentence the offender to death, if you were to judge by his eyes.

Turned out, an elderly marshal couldn't figure out how to turn off his phone.

Which brings me back to the original point. I just don't get the allure. A baseball player has to hit a ball that's moving upwards of 90 mph with 55,000 people screaming, and a golfer can't handle a little bit of noise?

Here is a sport that flaunts wealth, is a status symbol for class fragmentation and is all about the individual (90 percent of the time anyway). And even when a Presidents Cup or something of that ilk is held, the event is still a massive stage for jackass behavior.

As far as playing the game, just watch Robin Williams in his "Live on Broadway" show (see below) from a few years ago. Tells you everything you need to know.

Funny thing, my oldest son, Clayton, is totally into golf, so I won't be able to ignore it forever. If you can please tell me the allure, I'm open for suggestions. But frankly, I'd really rather he prefer to fly a kite.