Awe-Inspiring

That's all I could think of to say about the U.S. Open. From the amount of people to a little man named Tiger, the U.S. Open came to Oakmont and the course gave a tour de force performance. I don't think that I've ever seen so many golfers struggle to break 80. These are pros, and sometimes it is nice to see that they are human.

I must say I did not know so many people could fit on a golf course. The crowds were absolutely insane. Of course, there were also the members who got to sit in their nice little houses right by the course, sipping on whatever it is they drink (I assume liquid gold), lounging with their feet up, basking in the shade of the trees. Meanwhile, us normies struggle to find a place nearest to the ropes, trying not to glare directly into the sun, attempting to catch a glimpse of someone, anyone, who we've heard of before. Sometimes, if you're lucky, there are places in the grandstand. Of course this is at eleven o'clock in the morning, four hours before the leaders tee off. Would you want to wait that long, watching as some no-names come in shooting +27 and putting for bogey? I didn't think so.

And, I've gotta tell you, you need to see this golf course. This is the most difficult place to play, ever. Ever. Just standing by the rough almost, but not quite, makes you appreciate Phil's eloquent description, calling the course "dangerous." Needless to say he missed the cut, and complained of a wrist injury, but that's beside the point. Back to it. The rough is so thick, yet so fine, the ball will automatically sit down, and you've got to punch it out. They say if you miss the fairway, you've lost a shot, and whoever they are, they are right. And to further this, the fairways are pretty much as hard as, well, your kitchen floor, with an ever so small layer of grass covering it. So basically, you've gotta hit it in the perfect spot, every time, every round. Yet, with a winning score of +5, it would seem that Mr. Cabrera didn't do that every time, he just got away with some mistakes.

Which brings me to the reason for the crowds. The reason for the ratings jumping 36% from last year. That's right. Tiger Woods. His effect is, as I've stated, awe-inspiring. As you walk by the gallery, even in the morning hours, you hear "Well HE tees off at..." or "I think we'll see HIM..." or "I don't even care about HIM." Even if it's negative, Tiger Woods' effect on golf is incalculable. His presence weaves its way through the gallery as three o'clock (his tee time on Sunday) nears. The tension is palpable, even from four or five holes away. Again, you hear "HE'll be hear two groups after this one" or "I think HE just bogeyed." The eyes of everyone shift to the old-fashioned leaderboard that is changed by human hands, and not electronically. When his score is removed, people gasp. And then it is put up that he bogeys, and a great awe goes through the crowd. As he approaches the last few holes, the anticipation of what might, and what could heightens. And then, for those who have waited, for those who have been patient, he strides down the fairway. You see HIM, and everyone, EVERYONE, says "There HE is." Gasps, cheers, "YOU DA MAN"s, are always present. You see his focus, his determination. It is not a miserable, or angry look; it is a fierce, driven look. HE is in HIS own world, and no one can take HIM out of it. The last holes get even crazier, with everyone focused on HIS every shot, as HE is the last man on the golf course. After finishing 17, the crowd sprints to the 18th tee, and after HIS drive, the crowd surges ahead. And HE is on the green, with a chance to tie. Optimists call HIM six feet away, while in reality, of which the crowd knows none, HE is over twenty feet away. But still, HE is Tiger Woods. HE can do anything.

And then he shows that he is human. And a Duck can beat him. Suddenly, the crowd becomes sober. Mr. Tiger Woods' effect slowly drains out of our system. And we wonder what could have been, what we could have witnessed. And then we leave, and play golf the next day ourselves. And we try to swing like him, we try to putt like him, we try to be him. Notice, I said TRY. But there really is only one Tiger Woods. Although, I'd like to maybe be half as good. So maybe there could be one and a half? I suppose not.

I STILL hate Angel Cabrera...