Golf

Craig phoned yesterday morning to say that “Tiger is leading after three rounds and has only lost a tournament once in fifty-two times after doing so. So come over. He’s teeing off in an hour.” Click.

I watched a lot of Sunday golf as kid, usually after kicking around the school grounds with classmates Roger Nay and Ben Gerwing. I would go to Roger’s house and sit with him and his folks in high-backed rockers while Jack Nicklaus, Lee Trevino and Gary Player took turns winning.

The greens in those early days of colour TV. That, and the blonde heads of Nicklaus and Johnny Miller floating over them. Also the slowness. The voices of the commentators, but especially the tee shots, how they hung in the air forever.

What I noticed this time were the out-of-bounds shots. How gallery members, as they are known, race towards an out-of-bounds ball and stand within inches of it. Course officials enter the crowd and ask everyone to step away. Those closest move back an inch at a time, careful to maintain a front-row view.

The golfer arrives scratching his head, circling the ball, crouching down to look at it one way, then another. This is the closest the spectator gets to watching a player in play -- more often than not when that player is in peril.