Hurd By The Bay

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.