‘Unraked Bunker’ provides truth along with buried lies
When Tiger Woods spoke to the media about his possible comeback, the answer was “I don’t know.”
Aaron Doster
Welcome to the first (and possibly last) version of Unraked Bunker, where life is nothing more than a terrible lie and a ton of four-letter words. Neither can be found within this content, a poorly disguised attempt to review pro golf topics while offering some irrelevant notes about an early season you just hit snooze for the third time.
Back when I spent 20 weeks a year on the road, covering the game and wondering why Marriott had never honored my request for foam pillows, some used to say the PGA Tour didn’t get serious until the Florida swing. Well, here we are. And I think all that wind and ice in my house is the winter’s idea of a fried egg scrambled down a steep lip off the seventh driveway.
It could have been worse. Jump and extract it.
Nobody does a better job of saying anything more than Tiger Woods, whose wide range of non-binding, definite characters and what we’ll see is the perfect toolkit for the sports emperor. Tiger was in great shape during his visit to the CBS booth last Saturday. When Jim Nantz asked him if we’d see him in action seven weeks from now at Augusta National, Woods issued the perfect phrase “I don’t know,” his face filled with hope, and his right leg probably swaying from fear. I’m not talking about the value of common sense, but if Charlie’s dad was close to being able to physically play for the Masters, he’d give her a shot. Duh….
> The PGA Tour in Los Angeles has endured a lot over the decades – a series of peaks and valleys not unlike the state in which they were held. It has never been better than it is now like the Genesis Invitational. It’s clear that Woods’ presence as host of the tournament (since 2020) has led to a resurgence, making Riviera not only the best event on the West Coast swing, but the most exciting and entertaining event of the year.
> Two early season stats leaders you may not be familiar with: Justin Thomas ranks first in horizontal head-shakes, while Jordan Spieth continues to head the stroke-earning class begging.
> Of course, the CBS broadcast team has been buzzing about the idea that Eldrick might peg his April 7. Do you know how much this deal with green jackets is worth?
> Phil Mickelson’s struggles with the great empire over media rights are hardly groundbreaking. Woods made the same complaint to Tim Rosaforte and I during the 2000 Tour Championships, to vent about an issue so annoying that he set a record with his comments. This massive news lasted for about three days, and then evaporated into an atmosphere full of dead-end stories. No professional athlete has their own 75-yard video footage, 52-point playoffs or three no-batting players. It is property of the league in which it plays. We call it the greater good.
> As the tour heads to Florida for four weeks in the Sunshine State, I remember once again what a shame Doral is no longer the stage for the world’s best players. Camp Ponte Vedra pulled the plug on Blue Monster in 2016 after Donald Trump bought the resort, in a pragmatic protest against the 45th president’s views on immigration. Even in a beautiful little game like ours, no one is practicing politics until they start doing politics.
> When you think about it, men hitting a driver on every hole is no different than the NFL coaches going for it fourth and eighth from their 35-yard streak. Thanks to their number analytics tools and their mountains of data, the risk/reward factor has never been more prevalent in either sport, which is certainly not a bad thing. Analytics never lie. They just present a different version of the truth.
> What Mickelson likely doesn’t realize is that the PGA Tour events themselves owned the players’ media rights to the tournaments they hosted. When former commissioner Dean Peyman took office in 1974, he immediately began buying those rights on the understanding that accumulating these assets would prove very profitable when negotiating television contracts. Who’s the genius now, Phil? Beeman didn’t complete this process until the end of the 1970s, which is the biggest reason Mickelson and his colleagues are vying for $427 million in 2022. Again, it’s called the biggest commodity.
> Speaking of good things, 2007 US Amateur Champion Colt Nost got his start as a reporter on the CBS course. The guy pisses me off a bit with some of his offbeat musings, which is actually a bit refreshing—Knost provides a nice contrast to Dottie Pepper’s inherent intensity. He will never be David Ferti, but the new guy makes the daunting task seem easy. The emerging sound of a malicious network.
> Good Lord, it’s only the third week of February and I’m missing Brawny Brainiac Bryson DeChambeau. infantile. Arrogance. Power. It’s just way too quiet in professional golf these days. The struggle is more interesting than a few hours with Brady Bunch.
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