In Mom-orium

Apparently Sunday was the 100th Mother's Day - at least in the official holiday sense. It was No. 43 for me, but my first without my mother to call and thank for literally everything.

My mother, Eileen Michaux, died in November - just more than eight years after injuries suffered in a traffic accident on the way home from making her own mother's funeral arrangements left her wheelchair bound and limited her communication. Later this month she would have turned 77.

While her absence on Mother's Day was certainly disorienting, I can't say that this Mother's Day was empty. I woke up with the mother of my two children (who, as usual, were also in the same bed). We opened cards and gifts and had ice cream cake with my mother-in-law. I talked at length on the phone with my father and spoke to my brother-in-law, whose first child is due in August. Mother's Day was happy and fulfilling with family all around.

And for that I can thank my Mom again.

So as one last goodbye to my mother, I've attached the text of my tribute spoken at her memorial service last year.

Thanks again, Mom. I love you.

   I’m Scott Michaux, Eileen and Bill’s youngest son. While my brothers are 10 and 8 years older than me, I probably spent the most time with Mom. I wanted to just share a few stories about our mother.

   Mom was strong-willed and opinionated and never hesitated to let you know what she thought. Yet she supported every solid or stupid choice in life that any of us have ever made, whether it was to quit steady work and travel around the country or use all those years of expensive education to become a sports writer.
   She enjoyed a good laugh but hated if it came at her expense. But some of those moments are the favorites of our lives.
   Like the time the whole family went to the jailhouse in Woodbine, Georgia, after Mom went through a red-light trap. She’s still mad about it. Or the time when Dad and I dragged her out of bed in the middle of the night to drive from St. Pete to Charlotte to see if we could scalp tickets to see Richmond play in the second round of the NCAA Tournament. She demanded that we drop her off at the Tampa or Jacksonville airports, and each time we approached one Dad whispered to me “keep driving.”
   On another road trip to Florida when I was a teenager, we had made it as far as North Carolina when Mom suddenly realized she had forgotten to pack her only bathing suit and demanded my father turn the car around and go home to retrieve it. Dad simply said, “Eileen, after 25 years I think you deserve to buy a new one.” She didn’t like that idea but we kept going.
   She was one of the smartest women I’ve ever known. She was a voracious reader, consuming books in a few hours that would take the rest of us days to finish. A common refrain in our house. “Mom may not always be right, but she’s seldom wrong.”
That was seldom overruled.
   She was smart enough to do anything, and in another generation she might have. But she chose to become what is so insufficiently described as a “homemaker.” My brothers and I, we were her life’s work. Her nine grandchildren are the extension of that. She devoted herself to our family.
   My brothers were lucky in that their children got to know their Grandma. My children will have to see the true her reflected in me. But in other ways I was much luckier. I didn’t have to share my mother under the limitations of a young family trying to make ends meet. I had her mostly to myself. She was everywhere in my life.
   When I played soccer in high school, it was a winter sport. I’ll never forget one game with a blizzard coming down. When I looked into the bleachers, she was the only person there. She never missed anything we ever participated in.
   It should be noted that whatever athletic prowess any of us have came from her. Mom and I learned how to play golf together at Willow Oaks. I was 12 and she was 45. By the time we started keeping score, I was better than her. Yet every round we ever played she never failed to keep offering her sound advice – keep my head down and swing slower. Like any normal son, I have been ignoring that advice for 30 years and continue to suffer the consequences.
   About 15 years ago on a family trip to the beach in North Carolina, Tommy [the middle brother] and I played with Mom and Dad at a course called The Gauntlet. It didn’t take long to realize that my brother and I were in trouble. Mom was crushing us both. The further into the round we got, the more Tommy persisted in trying to invalidate what was happening. He protested that it wasn’t fair to compare since Mom was playing from the ladies’ tees. He reiterated that argument only two days ago.
   It was the only time Mom ever beat me over 18 holes and the only chance she ever had to beat us both. That was her major championship and I’m glad she won it - fair and square.
   The greatest lesson our mother and father taught us was through the example of their relationship. That brings me to my favorite family story that goes back to before we were a family.
   Fifty-six years ago our parents met at a Richmond/Randolph-Macon football game on a blind date that lasted only as long as halftime. It could have easily ended there and my brothers and I wouldn’t be here today.
   But each of them decided to give the other another chance. The salesman in my father refused to yield to the first two denials of going out on Friday or Saturday. But he talked her into a second date on Sunday for dinner in Williamsburg. After it was over, my mother couldn’t remember my father’s name and was too embarrassed to ask him again. But she did know him well enough to tell a friend, “I’m going to marry that man.”
   Since we’ve established she was seldom wrong, my father proposed to her that December. Not much more than a month after that, Mom contracted TB from the patients she took care of as a nursing student at MCV. As it will come as no surprise to anyone who has been around my parents for the last eight years, this frightening news did not deter my father. He gave Eileen a ring the day before Valentine’s Day in part to help cheer her up before she left to spend the next 10 months in Charlottesville hospitals fighting a disease that killed as many people as it didn’t in those days. He stuck by her with regular visits.
   Mom eventually weighed the pros and cons of undergoing surgery to remove a wedge of her lung. On the pro side, if successful it held the promise of living a normal life and having children. On the con side was that 60 percent of patients typically didn’t survive the surgery.
   Mom didn’t hesitate to take her chances. After 16 hours of major surgery, she walked to the phone booth herself to speak to her mother. When doctors warned her that her lung was not re-inflating and would have to be removed in the morning if it didn’t, she exerted herself by walking the ward all night filling everyone’s drink glasses and re-inflated the lung.
   Those committed, dedicated and courageous decisions by both of our parents are the reason we’re here today – some of us quite literally.
   That story of love and devotion lasted 56 years. It deserved, and my mother deserved, a better ending. But the woman who was seldom wrong had plenty of proof that she made the right decision about the man she married.
   We thank her. We love her. And we’ll dearly miss her.

Shut up, Monty!

As possibly America's foremost Colin Montgomerie fan (small club, I know), it pains me to write this.

Shut your whining mouth, Monty. Wealthy, middle-aged men in the decline of their career should not be begging for charity. And griping about the opportunity of others is unseemly.

Monty is miffed that he won't be getting a get-out-of-oblivion-free card otherwise known as a special international exemption into the Masters Tournament field. He's ranked 75th in the world (and falling) and doesn't appreciate that his presence at Augusta National won't greatly enhance the TV ratings in Scotland next week.

At least not as much as the presence of India's Jeev Milkha Singh (No. 80), Thailand's Prayad Marksaeng (93rd) or China's Liang Wen-hong (111th) will in their native lands. They all got the coveted "special" invitations this winter. 

"There has been no call from Augusta and I am not expecting one," Monty told reporters in Munich at a promotional event for June's BMW International Open. "Now, if I were the only person in the country, à la China, I might get in. It is a strange way to make up a field for a major championship – television rights. They are quite open about why. They were when I missed out last time in 2005 when they picked Shingo Katayama who was 67th in the world and I was 51st. They picked him over me for the Japanese rights. And they have done the same with Thailand and China this time.

"I am not the only one who feels that way and not just because I am not in. In or not I'd be saying the same thing. It is a strange criterion to pick a major field.

"The Masters is the only one you can get invited to. At the Open, the U.S. Open and the U.S. PGA you have to qualify. But the Masters have their own rules so we will leave them to it. It would be easier to swallow if no one was invited and it was done on sporting and not commercial criteria."

Hey, Mrs. Doubtfire. First of all, the other Opens have options to offer a special exemption or two as well, and occasionally exercise that right. Secondly, the Masters has qualification standards, too, and you failed to qualify.

Granted, I can't stand the Masters special exemption either, but not for the same reasons as Monty. I think the option should be available to ANY golfer in the world, and not just those born outside the United States. Now that the Masters invites more international players than Americans on an annual basis, the need for the international back door isn't necessary.

But what in the world is Monty's beef this time? He had his chances to qualify and failed miserably. (Don't choke at Winged Foot and you wouldn't need to beg). He's done little of merit this year, yet he's complaining about three Asian golfers who have shamed him on the course this year.

Singh has decisively beaten Monty in the last three events they both played in (Doral, Johnnie Walker and Dubai) and finished second in the Korean event Monty jilted last month so he could come to Bay Hill and miss the cut.

Marksaeng finished finished ninth in the Johnnie Walker where Monty missed the cut, their only common stage. Wen-Chong drubbed Monty in both the Johnnie Walker and HSBC Champions, though to be fair Monty did edge the Chinese golfer by one stroke at Doral.

Wen-Chong, incidentally, has cashed a check in three PGA Tour events this year - two of which required making cuts. Monty has cashed only guaranteed checks.

I was all for Monty receiving a a special invite three years ago when he was ranked 51st in the world at the deadline. (see here http://chronicle.augusta.com/stories/032705/mic_3737036.shtml ) Monty had weathered a rough patch in his life and career and turned things around with a strong push toward qualifying for the Masters. I thought he deserved a break.

This time he deserves nothing. He's played like a dog outside of a couple good rounds in the Match Play (sadly for Monty, the majors count all of his strokes) and now he's howling like a dog because he feels he deserves special treatment for all the top 10s (1 in 15 tries) he's had at Augusta.

I don't hear Japan's Ryuji Imada (one of the hottest playes in the world right now) complaining. Or Welshman Bradley Dredge, or Irishman Graeme McDowell, or South African Louis Oosthuzien, or Australians Rod Pampling and Brendan Jones, or New Zealander Mark Jones, or Indian Jyoti Randhawa or Swede Peter Hanson. They're all ranked ahead of Monty and none of them are coming to Augusta.

And let's not forget Davis Love III, Chris DiMarco or Chad Campbell, three Americans who have actually threatened to win the Masters but don't even have the option of receiving special dispensation from the club.

So Monty should shut up and work on his game to try to EARN an invitation next year. (It's the only way he'll ever get back).

If he'd like to head up to his homeland in Scotland to watch it on TV, he can at least be thankful Sandy Lyle's got that demographic covered.

Sneak peak at Augusta National

Phil Mickelson has a green jacket waiting for him at Augusta National, but it wasn't enough to qualify him for the member Jamboree this weekend.

"I tried to get an application to join, but I couldn't find any around," he said Thursday at Doral Golf Resort & Spa.

Mickelson spent Wednesday at Augusta National, and it wasn't to prepare for the WGC CA Championship that started near Miami the next day. The Masters is very much on the mind of the two-time winner.

"The point was to see the changes and kind of get a feel for the course and get a visual," Mickelson said. "The ball chips and putts on those greens so different than any where else that going into my off week I wanted to have that mental picture of what I needed to practice."

Mickelson was curious to see the changes made, particularly to the 7th and 9th greens. While the softening of some slopes on the 9th were barely even perceptible, the extension of the back right on No. 7 might prove significant.

"The softening of the back of the 7th green, I thought that was the most dramatic change," Mickelson said. "It changes the hole because now long is okay. You can go over the green and get up and down possibly whereas before that wasn’t really realistic."

His review was more positive than that of Canadian transplant Stephen Ames, who said the alteration to No. 7 doesn't fix the problems caused by the recent lengthening of what used to be an intriguing short par 4.

"It's the only hole on the golf course that's really bad," Ames said after playing the course on Monday, the same day native Canadian and 2003 master champ Mike Weir took in his own sneak peak.

The players are starting to make more visits to Augusta National, and Mickelson said his timing this week was perfect except for the windy weather that prevented him from spending more time. He flew up there from Miami early Monday, picking up member Fleming Norvell on the way and meeting Warren Stephens at the club to fill out the group.

"The course is in tremendous shape," Mickelson said, noting that the upcoming Jamboree helped. "Great coverage of the grass."

He plans to go back to do his usual extensive preparation with Dave Pelz. Some notable other players who have said they might take an advance trip to Augusta in the two weeks left before the Masters starts are Tiger Woods, Ernie Els and defending champion Zach Johnson.

Mickelson's caddie, Jim "Bones" Mackay, walked the course with his boss Wednesday and was particularly impressed with the new spectator viewing area adjacent to the 16th hole. A bank was cut through what had been trees from the 6th tee down to the seating area across the pond from the 16th green, allowing viewing of three greens (6, 15 and 16) for more than 2,000 additional spectators.

Bones believes securing a spot near the top where you can watch play on the 5th green as well as the 6th and 16th would be his priority if he were just coming as a fan. With a stone staircase running from the top to the bottom of the hill and two new walkways giving access to the top and the middle of the bank from the rear entrance, it's an area that is likely to fill up fast.

"That would be the place I would want to stake out," said Mackay.

The King holds court

If Arnold Palmer chooses to have his press conference at 9 a.m., you get up and go. If he hits off the first tee at Augusta National at 8 a.m., you get up and go. If he invites you to play in his tournament, you should go. If he asked you to come clean his gutters at dawn, you'd get up and go.

Arnold Palmer is 78 years old. And after more than 50 years of holding court on the world stage, you don't take these things for granted.

So we all dutifully and reverantly arrived on Wednesday at the Bay Hill Club & Lodge and took our seats and took off our hats (most, at least) and endured an awkward sponsor introduction to listen to the King hold court.

As always, there was a little news. Mr. Palmer confirmed that he will return to Augusta National Golf Club on the 50th anniversary of his first Masters victory and reprise his role as the honorary starter. And in an added bonus, he said he has "given considerable thought" to joining fellow legend Jack Nicklaus in the Par 3 Contest on Wednesday.

"I have had the starter at the Par 3 register me to start," he said. "I don't know whether I will or not."

All good news. But the best nuggets from Palmer this day came once again when the old man in him came to the forefront. Arnie is never more entertaining and engaging than when he gets on one of his senior rants.

This one came in response to a question about what influence he hopes to have on successive generations of golfers.

"I don't know where a player comes off, a young player particularly, that is being asked to give an autograph and he scribbles something down there that you can't read," he said. "Well, who in the hell knows what it is? Why take the time to do it? Why not make it legible? Jack Nicklaus, you can read. You never have a question about Jack Nicklaus's autograph or Gary Player's autograph, But then all of a sudden you run into something that this looks like a scribble. I don't understand. So if I can influence him, if you're going to give an autograph, make it legible so that people know what the hell they have in their hand."

There was more.

"Be cordial," said the King of cordial. "You don't have to stop and talk all day with someone, be cordial to them and then get on with what you're doing. If I can influence them in that way, I think that would be very good. Most of my feelings are how you act."

And then this.

"If you walk up here to this clubhouse and you go in the dining room, on the door in front of the dining room there's a sign," he said. "It says: 'Gentlemen, please remove your hats.' That's no big deal, but I've had arguments with these guys about wearing their hats when they are eating with ladies at the table or their children at the table. If I can influence them that way, I am going to do it. I can promise you that. And I will personally walk in and ask them to take their hats off when that arises."

"I don't know if you ask them," PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem interjected.

"I won't comment," Palmer replied with a wide smile.

So after 62 wins and seven major titles, this is a legacy most will remember.

"I'm pleased that I was able to do what I did from a golfing standpoint. I would like to think that I left them more than just that."

Sadly, not everybody gets the message. Mr. Palmer was cordial enough to invite John Daly to his tournament on a sponsors exemption. Yet while the King was addressing the media, Daly was missing his pro-am tee time and adding another self-destructive chapter to his autobiography.

If only John had bothered to get up a time or two and listen to advice from a true master at the craft of being a gentleman. He would at least have known to get up and go honor his tee time.

Ode to a sportswriter dying young

You didn't know Jeff Carlton. Unless you picked up a newspaper when driving through Greensboro, N.C., you probably didn't read him either. Please don't let that stop you from reading a little something about him here.

Jeff was a friend and colleague of mine when we worked together at the News & Record. He went to work in Greensboro almost nine years ago on the recommendation of another friend and sportswriter, Rob Daniels, who went to work there himself on a recommendation by me. We were three University of Virginia alums working on the same sports staff in North Carolina, which seems pretty good for a school that has no journalism program. We presume it is the first time that's ever happened outside the Commonwealth.

Six years ago at the fresh age of 30, Jeff was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Surgery and treatment sent it into remission and he went on with his life. Two years ago it came back. On Monday, Jeff was going to start some aggressive chemotherapy to beat it again. The week before he could get started, he fell at his house and had to go to the hospital. Before he was to be released two days later, Jeff slipped into a coma. A day later he died. He was 36.

His older brother, Walter, is not a sportswriter. But he wrote and delivered a tribute for Jeff that was as beautiful as anything I've ever read in a sports section. It was the finest choice of a sports analogy I've ever heard. That's one of the things I wanted to share, though my paraphrasing barely does it justice.

Like all of us who work in sports, Jeff loved games. Baseball was his particular favorite, and the Phillies his favorite team. He was the kind of baseball fan who made special trips each year with his brothers and friends to visit new ballparks.

During the inaugural season of the Washington Nationals - before the cancer came back - Jeff went to a game and sat in the bleachers. Outside the door of the memorial service, a picture was blown up of Jeff showing off a foul ball that he had caught that day in RFK Stadium. He naturally held the pine-tar scuff mark to the camera to prove it was genuine.

Walter was sitting right in front of him, and his natural brotherly instinct was blinding jealousy. All their lives they've been waiting to catch a foul ball and this one fell right out of the sky into Jeff's lap. The luckiest man on the face of the earth, his brother fumed.

Walter held the ball up for everyone at the standing-room only service to see. And in his sorrow he explained how sublime this luck was. Because Jeff always admired the batters who fought off pitchers with foul balls. Foul balls meant staying alive. And that's what Jeff was doing himself.

Strike one was delivered six years ago, and strike two came four years later. They were the kind of bogus called strikes off the plate that Jeff used to complain about when Maddux and Glavine made a habit of it in Atlanta.

For the next two years, Jeff kept fouling off pitches. He stayed alive not for himself but for his team - family and friends. He never complained about the bad calls he suffered. He never let it slow him down until strike three cruelly slipped by him last week.

It was easy to be sad for someone taken away too soon by such a savage and random disease. But it was the beauty of his life and not the ugliness of his death that lifted everyone who attended his service.

Another former colleague, Jim Young, delivered a nice tribute to Jeff. With his permission I have included it here. It struck me as a beautiful way to remember somebody by cherishing what you had instead of dwelling on what you lost. And while you probably didn't know Jeff Carlton, you know someone just like him and may one day be forced to live without them.

...

Like everyone here, it’s been hard these last few days thinking about where Jeff won’t be.

He won’t be at the desk next to me in the office, spinning around in his chair to offer a bit of wit, insight or maybe a sarcastic comment about my Atlanta Braves and Bobby Cox.

He won’t be sitting across from me in a booth at lunch, offering his wit, his insight, or maybe a sarcastic comment about my South Carolina Gamecocks and Steve Spurrier.

He won’t be sitting around the table during a poker game, offering his wit, his insight or maybe a sarcastic comment about how lucky I got the hand before.

He won’t be a lot of places in my life anymore, which is leaving an enormous hole that I have no idea how to fill.

But I’m going to try, as Jeff and other Phillies fans like him have learned over the decades, to accept crushing disappointment and move on.

To that end, I’m trying to stop focusing on the places where Jeff won’t be and to spend more time thinking about the place where Jeff is now. Rob Daniels and I started riffing on this Thursday while in the office. It’s exactly the sort of thing Rob, Jeff and I would have hatched over lunch at Fisher’s.

Where Jeff is now – it’s always 1980 for the Phillies.

Where Jeff is now – the Washington Capitals are the most clutch playoff team in hockey.

Where Jeff is now - Al Groh is not Virginia’s football coach and Craig Littlepage has no authority of offer contract extensions.

Where Jeff is now – Virginia Tech is on probation. Looooong probation.

Where Jeff is now – a road trip to see minor-league baseball has already been planned and the car’s got a full tank of gas. That car, by the way, has an XM station that plays only the Fixx, all day long and another that plays only Cracker.

Where Jeff is now – Ronald Reagan is probably the president. Yeah, Jeff was a bit different than the average journalist in that respect.

Where Jeff is now – he’s always getting the card he needs on the river.

Where Jeff is now – he’s got television with a channel that shows only Seinfeld, another that shows only Sopranos episodes and another in which every baseball game he watches is broadcast in the voice of Harry Kalas.

Where Jeff is now – deadline is always thirty minutes later.

Where Jeff is now – the copy editors always let him add five inches to his game story.

Where Jeff is now – he has the personal cell phone numbers of all the coaches and they all call him back, IMMEDIATELY.

Where Jeff is now – he has a dog that looks and acts a heck of a lot like Floyd.

Where Jeff is now – he’s happy, at peace and waiting for the rest of us to join him one day … and probably making a sarcastic comment about how long we’re taking to get there.

...

Lifetime experiences

I met Ernie Harwell on Friday and I've been driving around with him ever since.

I can't say I'd ever thought much about Mr. Harwell before last week. I knew who he was. I was aware of his importance. I had heard some clips of his radio broadcasts for the Detroit Tigers. I'd seen some features before on him.

But Ernie was just one of those distant figures until he came home to his birthplace of Washington, Georgia, to be honored on the eve of being inducted into the Georgia Sports Hall of Fame. So I went to talk to him and didn't expect much more than that.

I certainly didn't expect to leave as one of his biggest fans. I didn't expect to borrow $20 so I could buy his four-disc audio scrapbook that has been mesmerizing me through the dashboard CD player. I certainly didn't expect to ponder my own life habits and how I need to change them so I might be as swift of mind and energetic of step when I turn 90 years old.

Mr. Harwell was simply one of the nicest, most fascinating people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. In just a few short minutes I found him captivating. I was wishing we had more time to talk and not as many other people around fishing for autographs.

A few days after our encounter, Mr. Harwell sent me a thank you note - a simple matter of etiquette that has been largely lost since his generation. That he delivered it via email shows just how current he is for a 90-year-old man.

"Dear Scott-- I am home now in Michigan and really enjoyed the column you wrote so well about me. You were more than kind and I deeply appreciate your comments. All my best --ernie harwell."

Now that Ernie Harwell has vaulted to the top of my list of unexpected pleasures in life, something else he said stuck with me. He quoted the "right-handed English poet" Alfred Lord Tennyson (really, how many people involved in sports do such things?) with a line from Ulysses -- "I am a part of all that I have met."

In a career where I have met and interviewed many of the modern giants of the game - Tiger Woods, Wayne Gretzky, Michael Jordan - there have been just a few who stand just a bit above the rest as truly special experiences. Here are my top-5 in addition to Mr. Harwell (in no particular order).

Lou Brissie: Maybe it is something about their generation (Mr. Brissie also sent a hand-written thank you note) that truly makes them the greatest. But listening to the World War II veteran and former major league all-star talk about his life experiences in the living room of his North Augusta home was enthralling. I look forward to visiting again.

Sam Snead: When I was working in Greensboro, I spent nearly five hours alone with Snead in his winter Florida home, and it was the best five hours I've ever enjoyed. He recounted many of the famous tales and shared many others I had never heard before. He cried talking about his late wife and his favorite dog who had recently passed. He curled a 50-pound dumbell, challenged me to "hit me in the stomach" to prove how tight he was at age 86 and showed me how he tries to fill in all the O's on a book page to exercise his deteriorating eyes. Then he drove me back to my car in his brand new Lexus that was delivered during our interview and thanked me for spending the afternoon with him.

Jim Whittaker: If you know who he is, you know more than I did when I was a college student and went to an outdoor outfitter in Charlottesville, Va., to interview another retired athlete. But for more than an hour, Whittaker kept me riveted with stories of being the first American to reach the summit of Mt. Everest (a feat he accomplished the year before I was born). Very cool.

Jim Murray: This wasn't actually an interview. It was just dinner. While sitting alone in the hotel restaurant in San Francisco on the eve of the 1998 U.S. Open, a friend and fellow reporter (Ron Green Jr. of Charlotte) came in and asked me to join their party for dinner. At the table (along with all of their spouses) was his father, Ron Green Sr., Ed Pope of Miami, Larry Guest of Orlando and Jim Murray. The available seat was nearest to Murray and his wife, Linda. I don't know if I said anything beyond "Pleased to meet you," but I do remember sitting there for a couple of hours just listening to more collective wisdom than I've ever been in the company of since. The next day in the media center, I was walking out when Mr. Murray walked in and said - and this is an exact quote - "Hello Scott. Dinner was a pleasure." I don't remember much else that happened that day. A month later I was sitting in a hotel room in Spartanburg, S.C., working on an NFL training camp story when a news bulletin on the TV said that venerable L.A. Times columnist Jim Murray had died. I just started weeping uncontrollably.

Jack Nicklaus: We can only dream that Tiger Woods will ever become as engaging and accessible as the man he will soon surpass as golf's greatest. Among the countless encounters with Mr. Nicklaus - including one outside the R&A Clubhouse at St. Andrews when he turned and threatened me if I was ever to repeat a quip he just made regarding a certain golf course, which is when I realized he knew who I was and where I worked - my favorite was nearly three hours spent in the back of a pickup truck as he surveyed the progress of his nine holes at Champions Retreat. During that time we learned architectural philosophy, the history of Redan holes and I believe that there is a pine tree that remains standing and another that was turned into mulch on the fourth hole based on my amateur recommendation. In lieu of a check, the occasional invitation to play would be appreciated.

I could go on and include Byron Nelson (nicest man EVER!), Arnold Palmer (always cool), Sam Rutigliano (only coach to ever buy me an ice cream), George Simkins (dentist who challenged racial discrimination in Greensboro, NC) and Charles Barkley (you never know what is going to come out of his mouth next), but I promised only five plus Mr. Harwell.

My wife tells me I'm an old man, and I guess this list proves it. But if we all are a part of who we meet, I feel truly blessed.

UGA proposes playoff

Michael Adams has never liked the idea of a football playoff. Stretching the season into a second semester always troubled the academic sensibilities of the University of Georgia president.

However, the lack of sensibility in the current BCS system has pushed the university leader and the chairman of the NCAA executive committee to change his mind. And for fans desperate for a legitimate postseason tournament, Adams' proposal Tuesday is a major step in the right direction.

Concerned by the concentration of power and influence at ESPN and with the conference and bowl commissioners, Adams submitted a proposal for an eight-team college football playoff to be organized and operated by the NCAA. He submitted a formal letter to Myles Brand, the president of the NCAA.

That Georgia's Bulldogs - who ultimately finished No. 2 in the AP poll - were overlooked in the lobbying campaign to determine the BCS title game participants left a bitter taste in the president's mouth. He alluded to the hint of collusion that "leaves an air of dissatisfaction with the fans of most institutions."

"This year's experience with the BCS forces me to the conclusion that the current system has lost public confidence and simply does not work," Adams said in a statement issued the day after LSU beat Ohio State in the BCS Championship game. "It is undercutting the sportsmanship and integrity of the game."

Adams suggests establishing an NCAA selection committee to determine and seed the eight participants in a playoff. Those eight teams would play in the four established BCS bowls - Sugar, Orange, Fiesta and Rose - during the usual New Year's bowl period. The winners of those four games would advance to semifinals played the first Saturday at least a week after the bowl games. The national championship game would be played the following Saturday.

While still concerned about stretching the season for four teams into the second semester, Adams suggests restoring the 11-game regular season to alleviate wear and tear on the student athletes.

"I will propose to Myles Brand and the NCAA board that this playoff process be put into place as soon as contractual arrangements allow and that it be run by the NCAA," Adams said. "I am confident the NCAA has and will have a better record of managing events of this type than the BCS has exhibited to date."

Whether Adams gains the support of his presidential peers and can get a playoff established in the near future is unknown. It remains a long-shot just as playoff rhetoric in recent years had always been shot down.

But after another unsatisfactory conclusion to one of the great years in collegiate football memory, just initiating the debate among the people who matter is a welcome step.

How would you fix the BCS?

Most rational people agree that college football has the most absurd way of deciding its "champions."

But how would you fix it? I will be offering my own proposal before the holiday bowl season gets started, and I want to incorporate some other people's ideas into the debate. Please post your own thoughts, and it you care to leave a way for me to get in touch with you (send me an email if you prefer to keep yours private), you might get to be part of the printed debate as well as this cyber chat.

Together, maybe we can offer the plan that brings sanity to the college football world.

scott.michaux@augustachronicle.com

Title game should bypass UGA

I'll say this once and say it quickly before everything gets set later tonight.

Georgia deserves a chance to play for the national title in college football, but the Bulldogs do not deserve to play in the BCS Championship game.

 Understand?

Here's what I mean. UGA is certainly the hottest team in college football and worthy of a chance to compete in playoff system for a national championship. Nobody would want to draw them. They could win it all.

The problem is, there is no college football playoff system. And without it, Georgia should be bypassed in the current format by LSU.

Nothing against Georgia, but unless you can win your own conference or even your own division, you shouldn't get to compete to win the whole thing in the one-game system that has been set up. It should be that simple.

Why LSU? Because LSU won the SEC West then LSU won the SEC Championship game against a Tennessee team that Georgia lost to by mile. LSU lost its only two games in overtimes to winning programs. Georgia lost to a South Carolina team that lost its last five games.

And LSU beat more teams currently ranked in the polls (four) while Georgia beat only two (Florida and Auburn, which LSU also beat).

 Just because Georgia was ranked higher in the most recent BCS poll doesn't mean it should automatically move up into the title game against Ohio State. Any polls submitted before Sunday should be considered irrelevant. If you're going to have a stupid system based on popular acclamation, make a final assessment based on the whole season and not any preconceived notions.

Georgia turned a potentially bad season into a great one. It deserves a place in a marquee bowl. But without a playoff, is doesn't deserve any more than that.

Golf places to go before you die

There are places on the planet where you simply feel more alive, where the world in front of your eyes enriches the soul and makes you think “I’m glad I came here.”

Golf is filled with such places. Some have historical significance. Some just have a pretty view.

In a sport obsessed with lists and rankings, here’s another to clutter the field. This is my list of golfing views any lover of the game would feel blessed to experience before they died. All of them are readily accessible without having to travel to a far side of the world most of us will never get to. The only exclusive club on the list at least opens its gates to ticket holders once a year.

Most of these places I’ve seen first-hand, with a few still serving as destination goals. That there is a strong bias towards links golf is undeniable, since the landscapes lend themselves to panoramic views as well as unrivaled golf.

Like Nigel Tufnel’s amplifier in Spinal Tap, this list goes to 11. Barely missing my cut are Waterville, Old Head and the European Club in Ireland, the view toward Ailsa Craig at Turnberry, Troon or Western Gailes in Scotland, the panorama from the clifftop 12th tee at Llanymynech in Wales, the view back toward the clubhouse at the Homestead's Cascades Course or the deer silhouetted at sunset against the ocean waves at Pacific Grove.

The fulfilling options out there are truly limitless.

1. The Old Course, St. Andrews, Scotland, 1st tee. With the Royal & Ancient clubhouse at your back, the medieval town to your left, the Chariots of Firebeach to your right and the holiest golfing ground on earth stretched out in front of you beyond the Swilcan Burn and its iconic stone bridge, there is simply no adrenaline rush quite like it. The view from the 18th tee looking back is more spectacular, but by then the loop, the tee shot over the Road Hole shed and all of the beguiling swales and bunkers save for the Valley of Sin will be behind you. Savor the moment that you push the peg into the ground and gather yourself for the first strike while people watch you from every side, wishing they were in your place. It will live with you forever.

2. Augusta National Golf Club, Georgia, 12th tee. Not everyone is lucky enough to stand in Amen Corner with a club in their hand, but anyone can try to get a ticket to stand behind the box during the Masters Tournament. The pictures on television and office walls are familiar to anyone with a passing knowledge of the game, but they can’t do justice to being there. This is the only venue that oozes as much history as St. Andrews, and the beauty of this particular corner in full bloom can stand up to any seaside vista.

3. Royal County Down. Newcastle, Northern Ireland, 9th tee.From the highest peak on the course the understanding of why County Down is considered the most scenic venue of the Royal links is clear. The view looks out over the clubhouse to the town of Newcastle to the Mountains of Mourne that rise hard against the Irish Sea. That the quality of the course surpasses the quality of the view makes it a fixture in any top-10 list of greatest venues.

4. Ballybunion (Old), County Kerry, Ireland, 11th tee. Herbert Warren Wind hailed it as “the finest seaside links course” he’d ever seen and the greatest American links master Tom Watson said it’s natural to believe “the game of golf originated there.” From the 11th that plays along the Mouth of the Shannon River you’ll wish you could play there forever. These are dunes no human could create without being branded a surrealist. To play golf among them is truly divine.

5. Cruden Bay GC, Aberdeenshire, Scotland, 9th tee.You won’t believe that the greatest clubhouse view you’ll ever see can be topped, until you’ve scaled the tallest dune that towers above the eighth green and realize you’ve only been looking at half the course and coastline. To the north the dunescape sweeps all the way to the quaint fishing village and the ruins of Slains Castle, reputedly the isolated cliff-top abode overlooking the North Sea that inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Then to the south lies the hidden sprawl of the course’s quirkier back side. You have to see this place to appreciate its immense beauty.

6. Gullane No. 1, East Lothian, Scotland, 7th tee.Some claim the highest point on Gullane Hill as the greatest viewpoint in golf, and it’s tough to argue. The view sweeps from Edinburgh Castle all the way to Bass Rock that looms over North Berwick and beyond to Dunbar. Across the Firth of Forth lies the renowned Kingdom of Fife. The tee box overlooks Muirfield on one side and a half dozen courses on the other, giving you a glimpse into the 20 courses that line 25 miles of coastline.

7. Lahinch Golf Club, County Clare, Ireland, 8th tee.Perched high above the beach overlooking Liscannor Bay, this spot offers another one of Lahinch’s many surprises. Who knew there was surfing in Ireland? Beyond the beach and the limits of sight are the Cliffs or Moher and the unique landscape of the Burren. But it’s the old course that emerges from the heart of town like at St. Andrews and winds through impossibly high dunes like Ballybunion that is the real treat.

8. Pacific Dunes GC, Bandon, Oregon, 17th tee. Any golfer who’s ever been to this coastal golf resort that’s less than 10 years old gushes that this is the only place in America where the true style and philosophy of the links golf experience exists in North America. Sure the private clubs on Long Island have figured out the architectural aspects, but to truly “get it” a links must be accessible to the public. Until the exchange rate with the British Pound gets under control, this is the most affordable alternative to a links pilgrimage.

9. Royal Dornoch GC, Sutherland, Scotland, 7th tee.By the time you’ve finished the first six holes, you already understand where Donald Ross got the inspiration for Pinehurst No. 2 and every course he designed. But it’s not until you’ve walked uphill through walls of gorse and emerged at the top where the significance of this place hits you. From this spot overlooking most of the rugged course, you look across the wide Dornoch Firth and wonder how Ross got from here to America more than a century ago to spread the genius of this links course.

10. Pebble Beach Golf Links, California, 7th green. There may be no more picturesque golfing spot in America, with the short par-3 green situated below on the rocky point jutting into the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean. It might not be the challenge that nearby Cypress Point offers at its 15th and 16th holes, but it’s on publicly accessible land you’re entitled to visit even without paying the exorbitant greens fee. It’s worth the price of admission to 17-mile Drive.

11. Kapalua Plantation Course, Maui, Hawaii, 1st tee. The entertaining course isn’t up to the standards of the others on this list, but the view across the sea toward the island of Molokai is irresistible. The weather can’t be beaten and neither can the sight of a breaching whale. Just being on this island is worth the journey.

World's Largest Stupid Argument

That's what they should start calling the debate about the silly nickname for the Georgia-Florida football game. That it wasn't dropped year's ago for being juvenile, unnecessarily provocative and flat-out wrong (anybody ever been to Mardi Gras?) is beyond me.

Boosters, students and idiots in general have recoiled in drunken horror at the sober request of the university presidents to have the sopho-moron-ic label "World's Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party" retired from being the primary reference of the annual rivalry football game in Jacksonville. The sensibility of the request is lost on people who haven't bothered to notice that alcoholic beverages don't need any more promotion at collegiate sporting events. People have been enjoying themselves just fine despite NCAA bans of alcohol advertising during broadcasts and sales at college venues.
Nobody is trying to step on anyone's buzz. The presidents are simply trying to promote more responsibility and moderation on impressionable young students who clearly need the lesson. It's a noble challenge facing long odds of sinking in through overly lubricated skulls.

By establishing on-campus drinking rules with tangible consequences for students who abuse them, the presidents aren't trying to turn everyone into teetotalers. They're simply trying to teach students to be responsible for their own actions. It is a learning environment, after all.

So for whatever small part it plays in the effort, count me in for never using the WLOCP label again. It was a dumb title anyway.

And if you have a problem with that, maybe you just have a problem.

Everybody goes 8-4

Let's begin with the facts from 2005.

I thought Georgia would lose to Boise State, go 8-3 and head to the Outback Bowl.

I didn't think Steve Spurrier could turn the Gamecocks into chicken salad immediately and would need a year of seasoning to reach a bowl game.

I believed Clemson and Georgia Tech would win games you didn't think they would and lose games they shouldn't have to reach their standard regular season marks of eight and seven wins respectively.

Hey, nailed those last two.

Predicting how collegiate teenagers and 20-somethings will fare on a football field is true folly, but it's part of the charm every fall. So is getting unreasonably mad at someone who doesn't think your favorite team will do as well as you think (or hope) they will.

So I expect Bulldogs and Tigers in particular will bristle at the suggestion that their teams will finish the regular season with the exact same 8-4 records as their hated rivals -the Yellow Jackets and Gamecocks.

But I think Georgia will take a few lumps in the SEC without the same caliber of quarterback they've enjoyed the last five seasons under coach Mark Richt. You can't win 10 games every year. Just look at the media guide.

And I think Clemson has so much talent that it will renew the cries for Tommy Bowden to get out of town when it comes up short of heightened expectations.

On a positive note, I think that Richt could take the 2006 Tigers to a national title in the 25th anniversary season of their last one. I just don't think Bowden can.

GT and SC both have too many opponents of high caliber to expect anything more than eight wins out of them. But it sure would be fun if they did better and challenged the status quo in their conferences.

If these opinions infuriate you, let me remind you how much you paid to read them. And remember what I said about Boise State.

Will Tereshinski shine?

Sure, Joe Tereshinski wasn't the sexiest choice in the four-way battle to be Georgia's starting quarterback. But he was the safest choice. When the success or failure of a football season might hinge on a second-week showdown in South Carolina where the Bulldogs traditionally struggle, playing it safe is a good idea.

Head coach Mark Richt knows better than anybody else what his team needs to do to win now, and throwing a true freshman like Matthew Stafford into the fire isn't the smart play. If he was clearly that much better than Tereshinski, he would be the starter in the opener. Clearly, he was not ... for now.

Tereshinski is a loyal, third-generation Bulldog who bided his time and learned the system behind NFL-drafted quarterbacks David Greene and D.J. Shockley. Whether or not Richt owed him the opportunity is not the point. Tereshinski earned the opportunity. He's smart, steady and knows the system better than Joe Cox (his current backup), Blake Barnes or Stafford.

Considering the skill he'll have around him, that's the kind of QB the Bulldogs need to keep the mistakes to a minimun and get the ball in the hands of the running backs and tight ends who will be the key to making the offense click in 2006.

Whether or not Tereshinski will succeed in the starting role remains to be seen. But whether or not he was the right choice is certain. The job was always his to lose and he hasn't lost it.