Gold Glover

Bethpage State Park -the par 70 Black Course - the first public course to host the U.S. Open. Long Island, New York - home to some of the drunkest golf fans I've ever seen on national television - and some of the worst fescue grass known to man. And all this was already there. Now, bring in the weather and the drama.

This wasn't your typical U.S. Open. If fact, it couldn't have been more left to last year's right. Last June was West coast; this was mostly certainly East. Private course vs Public. Sunshine vs rain. All-stars vs all the rest. But it's still golf and their was still a major to be played. So we play on.

Thursday kicked off with some familiar faces. Tiger, Rocco and Mickelson came ready to play; unfortunately so did Mother Nature. The gallery looked like a gumball machine as the round, colorful umbrellas became the backdrop for most of the afternoon. The rains came and suspended play as many wondered how they would squeeze four rounds of golf into three stormy days. For now, they would try to squeeze the water from the soaking greens.

Virginia Tech grad Drew Weaver enjoyed the lead for about as long as Bethpage enjoyed sun; ACC standup. The biggest emotional roller coaster was rode by both fans and players alike. Riding shotgun, bearing the biggest burden, was Phil Mickelson, who's wife Amy was at home awaiting surgery for breast cancer. Lefty's phenomenal putting was on display Sunday afternoon, nailing two long birdie putts on both 16 and 18 with ease. While unable to hoist the trophy, Phil's triumphant comeback on Monday, which took him to -4 for a share of the lead, was good enough to feed the New York crowd's hunger for some competition.

The darker side of the story came straight from the Tiger's mouth. Sitting at home on Father's Day Sunday watching golf, as I'm sure several father-son/father-daughter duos were, I noticed something different about Tiger. His concentration fell apart, anger boiled over and the world's number one golfer became human, if only for a day. Forget Tiger's putting, which was a disaster, his attitude was worse. Throwing clubs. Cussing audibly on national television. Tiger was throwing a 2-year-old temper tantrum as 26-year-old Ricky Barnes rose to the occasion. If it weren't for Tiger's repeat chip-in on 17 - which saved his dignity and most likely his caddie's life, who became Tiger bait when play turned ugly - the defending champ would have left New York a total loser. Instead, he left New York the 6th place loser with some coin in his purse and in serious need of an attitude adjustment. Dear Tiger, America likes their freak-show athletes to be just that. Please check your human qualities at the door.

All in all after a wet and wild weekend, golf gave away their trophy to a no-name who gets enough props from me with the title of this blog, Ricky Barnes' choke job will go down as one of the best (at least he placed in something) and the obnoxious, rained-out fans got their money's worth, even if they had to bitch about it. It just goes to show, you can take New Yorkers out of the city but you can't take the city out of New Yorkers.