The Crowne Plaza

Hamlet Revisited

Date Written: June 1, 2009

To paraphrase Willy Shakespeare's Hamlet: "To be (a winner) or not to be (a winner), that is the question." If it's true that "One bad swing doth not a bad round make," then little, Timmy Clark needs a bigger lead coming home before he figures out how to win. It seems that whenever he imagines himself hoisting the trophy at days end, things go sideways. Even Lady Luck and her merry band of Fates gave him the brushoff once again at the jousting field called Colonial. Given a one shot lead going into the 72nd hole, little Timmy, the world's straightest driver, jerks it into the trees, allowing the two Steve's (Stricker, the eventual winner and Marino) to sneak into a playoff. Then, on the second extra hole, our little Timmy hits the pin flush on his second shot and instead of landing softly a few feet away for an easy birdie, the ball rattles 20 feet away. Clark misses, Stricker makes...end of story.

Methinks one day, Master Timmy might have to undergo a ritual exorcism or a stake burning to rid himself of that insidious inner voice that tells him he's not good enough to win. I seem to be repeating myself at least once a year with Timmy as the heartfelt subject. No matter what insight the commentators try to offer, he remains, "Mr. Second Place." Statistically, he wears the ignominious PGA crown of "most money ever earned without ever winning." Over a ten year, PGA career, he's earned a whopping $13.3 million with nary a win.

Personally, I can offer some solace. If it's worth anything, I'd trade him jobs. I don't like to travel much but I like the money he makes. He can take my place in my lowly foursome here in Sun Valley and I'll guarantee he'll be a winner.

The Bad News Dept: Timmy caused four pool players who picked him this week, major apoplexy. Bright and early Sunday morning, they awoke with hopeful hearts. They mapped out their day carefully. In no order, their mission was to finish all their chores by television tee time, take their phones off the hook, beat their respective wives and children, set out a nice, deli lunch..all in hopes of defying the odds and gaining a giant payday with their pick of Sir Timmy. After it was all over and their finger nails were bitten to the quick, they could only rue the million dollar payday that slipped through their grasp.

The Good News Dept: Bill Sundali, one of the lucky/unlucky ones to have Timmy, creeps over The Muffins into first place. For the record, I play with this guy, Sundali. His predictions in the pool are way better than his reverse-pivot golf swing.

Countdown to the US Open just a few weeks away. Tiger's in the field this week at the Memorial, obviously trying to sharpen his tools for Bethpage Black. Seven of us have the defending champ, Kenny Perry, four have 'Thorny' Rose, and three like the Canadien Weir-wolf. There are no, "no-shows" for the first time this year.

Finally, for your John Daly fix, comes this trivia from the LA Times:

John Daly has taken to wearing the most appallingly garish pants yet seen on a golfer, which is saying something. The Times of London recently offered a sartorial salute with a 10-photo spread, but was less enthusiastic in its commentary. Noting that the trousers come courtesy of a promotional arrangement with a California company, the newspaper said Daly has appeared in bizarre outfits in four European Tour events this year, "each time looking like an escapee from the circus."