I will preface this entry by saying I’ve watched next to zero “live” Olympics coverage from South Korea. One of the most frustrating things about the 2018 Olympics is obviously the time zone difference, especially when you think you’re watching something live but turns out to have been airing as tape delay. I don’t know how people watched the Lake Placid Olympics of 1980, but imagine finding out in some parts of the world a full day later the result of the ‘Miracle on Ice’? Around the same era, imagine reading actual stats and results in the newspaper even the next morning? Kids today have absolutely no idea how easy they have it, and I can admit I’m addicted to this thing called Twitter, but I must digress.
More onto the point of the blog, I need to ask a simple question: Since when is a medal that isn’t gold considered a failure? Obviously there are instances in which certain countries during certain events have higher expectations than others, and the actual effort may result in being considered a failure (think USA basketball, Canadian curling, USA gymnastics, etc.) but to receive a medal at an event which features the most gifted and physically fit athletes in the entire world and not so much toss it into the stands, that really pisses me off. Sorry for being so honest. Example A, Lindsey Vonn’s father. It is without question in my mind that Vonn is the greatest skier I’ve ever seen. My father can list a handful of other skiers who may be better suited for this consideration, but he’s watched much more skiing than I and there isn’t anyone more exciting or notorious than Vonn in my eyes. It isn’t any secret that she is near the end of the line as far as Olympic competition goes (she indeed announced this would be her last Olympics) but reading this report about how her father wasn’t impressed with her skiing which led to a bronze medal and a record for oldest Olympic skier to receive a medal, what the hell is she supposed to do? “Just little, little spots,” he added. “Just not quite risking enough. Not straightening the line out, just the ski was little … not quite carving in some places like it should have.” DUDE?! Really?! Example 2, the Canadian women’s hockey team. The defending gold medalists from Sochi were the obvious favorites to repeat as champions, but team USA has always said they aren’t far off to retain the top spot for the first time since Nagano in 1998. This is one of those rare examples where I can see the expectations running so highly for a team that anything less than gold would be a disappointment. Yet once again, it was filmed all last night that players couldn’t care less about receiving a silver medal in Olympic competition. Not very polite, eh?
Finally, Example D which doesn’t relate to the Olympics, but rather the World Junior Classic played in January between Canada and Sweden. The Swedish, who I always thought were very sincere and a real people, showed "captain" Lias Andersson receiving a silver medal and shortly thereafter tossing into the Buffalo crowd for a lucky fan. Captain you say? Well du suger, mis amigo. The point of this blog is simple: if I were skilled enough to participate in Olympic competition, I would damn well perform my hardest and be proud that I was even given a plane ticket. I’ll revert back to my idol and long lost best friend Rickie Fowler when he participated at the Rio games when nobody else would. He didn’t medal, but guess what? He came away with a sick ass tattoo and ultimately met fellow Olympian and current girlfriend Allison Stokke. People forget she almost ran be over at an In-N-Out parking lot in Scottsdale two weeks ago, but again I digress. Get over yourselves and be proud of what you accomplished, no one else will do it for you.
...and the best part happened about a mile away from the course. I'll explain... Throughout my life I’ve been fortunate to find myself attending many incredible sporting events, and never take a single second of it for granted. I’ve been to Red Sox-Yankees (World Series by the way), Bruins-Canadiens (Stanley Cup Quarterfinals by the way) and even a Celtics-Cavaliers game (back in 2007 and LeBron decided to sit out). Among the countless other Bruins and Red Sox games over the years mixed with college hockey, basketball, baseball, etc. there is truly nothing like attending a professional golf tournament in person. To clarify, there are golf tournaments, and then there’s the Waste Management Phoenix Open. My first experience at a PGA tournament was in 2009 at the then Deutsche Bank Open in Norton, MA which is always played on Labor Day weekend with a Monday finish. Unlike all other sporting events, golf tournaments allow you the freedom to watch who you want to watch, walk where you want to walk and share virtually every vantage point similar to the pros. Being able to position yourself in a gallery following Tiger Woods who is standing a mere 10 yards away is a much greater experience in person than say in front of a TV. Much like the Deutsche Bank, the Arnold Palmer Invitation last year had its full slate of big names most notably Rory McIlroy who agreed to an interview on my phone (whether he knew it or not) and my man Rickie Fowler who I was able to share a practice-session photo op with (again, more on him later). There was an unfortunate and somber vibe throughout the tournament, as it was the first year without the King himself in attendance, but still had an amazing time walking the course and seeing Tommy Fleetwood’s flow up close and personal. This brings me to the WMPO, which as the cliché goes: a certified party with a golf tournament thrown in just for fun. Thinking back to what I mentioned earlier about pro sporting events, this was clearly nothing I had ever seen in my entire life and still can’t believe what I was able to witness. I attended Thursday, Friday and Sunday rounds in the morning and am proud to say I was part of the gallery which broke the single tournament attendance record yet again (total attendance for the weekend included me and about 719,178 of my closest friends, give or take.) That’s not including the 216,818 on Saturday alone. Are you kidding me? Watching the endless amount of Twitter videos and television coverage I learned that the Mighty Ducks, Power Rangers, Teletubbies and Sesame Street gang are all fans of the sport of golf and were in attendance on the infamous 16th stadium hole at what is an absolute beauty of a course at TPC Scottsdale. I was fortunate to find a solid vantage point at the 16th both Thursday and Sunday and it is truly an experience everyone should put on their bucket list. If you’re daring enough to be in line at 5am on Saturday and sprint the full ¾ of a mile to get to the hole from the opening gates on a Saturday, hey more to ya. You’ll be rewarded with free breakfast burritos, beer and a DJ all before 8am, and that’s only a mere five hours before a golf shot is even hit! Trust me, it sounds like a long day but it goes by quickly and everyone I’ve spoken with say it’s worth every second.
Gary Woodland ended up winning in a playoff against Chez Reavie late Sunday, but my mind was elsewhere at that point and now wish I had stuck around after witnessing whatever mess that was out in Minnesota. Now we get to the point of my blog, which features a moment in my life in which I will truly remember for the rest of time and am convinced that the universe knows EXACTLY what it’s doing, whether it’s hard to believe or not. Monday evening rolls around and I’m on day number five of being in Arizona. The weather had been perfect, my dear friends Jim and Jillian have been incredible hosts, but I was delivered some devastating news early Sunday where I simply wanted to chill out and be alone for a while. I had been craving In-N-Out Burger from the minute I landed in Phoenix and decided I’d grab some for my last meal, which is fitting because I did the same the night I moved home from San Diego. The restaurant location my phone brought me to ended up being across the street from the golf course and thought it was cool to see at dusk and reflect on the week. After crushing two double doubles with fries, I notice two guys next to a Mercedes rental with a pro golf bag outside the trunk. “Sick” I thought, as I walked back across the parking lot to throw my trash away. As I walked closer to the car, I noticed the cartoon of the Oklahoma State Cowboy stitched on the all-black Cobra bag and a dude sporting a backwards snap back yapping away on his phone. What happened over the next five minutes was a true example of a divine intervention, one which I am 100% certain was a gift being delivered from the angels above watching over me. After some life-altering news, a mere 24 hours later I experienced the most incredible moment of my life. The Waste Management Phoenix Open…not just a golf tournament.
Example A, Lindsey Vonn’s father. It is without question in my mind that Vonn is the greatest skier I’ve ever seen. My father can list a handful of other skiers who may be better suited for this consideration, but he’s watched much more skiing than I and there isn’t anyone more exciting or notorious than Vonn in my eyes. It isn’t any secret that she is near the end of the line as far as Olympic competition goes (she indeed announced this would be her last Olympics) but reading this report about how her father wasn’t impressed with her skiing which led to a bronze medal and a record for oldest Olympic skier to receive a medal, what the hell is she supposed to do? “Just little, little spots,” he added. “Just not quite risking enough. Not straightening the line out, just the ski was little … not quite carving in some places like it should have.” DUDE?! Really?!
