LG had some problems with my presentation in POTW 3. His remarks are reproduced below.

Comments from LG:

Hold up. You SERIOUSLY think that blowing a three-shot lead on the final hole is worse than VAN DE VELDE?!? *blink* *blink* How is this even a real comparison? Sure, three is more than two, especially in golf, but, respectfully sir, that is the only factor that falls in your favor. Admittedly, a two-shot lead going into what is probably the most difficult closing hole in the Open rota is far less safe than a three shot lead at the St. Jude, but as far as the biggest choke? No Contest.

I fail to see how you can even compare losing the St. Jude Classic to losing the Open Championship. Venue has to play a role. Carnoustie versus … wait, where’s the St. Jude played again? Let’s not forget, also, that this would be the first time in God know’s how long that a Frenchmen would have won a major championship. While this may not seem like a big deal, Van De Velde had the opportunity to bring golf to the forefront in his home country. Consider the impact that Arjun Atwal’s win at the Wyndham Championship has had on golf in India. The impact of a win at golf’s oldest contest would have sent shock waves throughout the country. I don’t recall this even being mentioned in the highlights in SportsCenter.

Moreover, as you describe it, Garrigus had one opportunity to play the right shot (the shot after his drop). Van De Velde had no fewer than THREE. First, he should NOT have played a driver on the final hole. 4 iron was always the play. Second, after getting lucky to not go OB, he should have hit the wedge to lay up. Instead, he takes 4 iron and goes for the hero shot. AGAIN he gets the biggest break of his life and hits the grandstands. Rather than bounce into Barry Burn, he lands in the weeds behind it. AGAIN he should have pitched out, but again, he goes for the green and this time lands in the burn. Another reason why Van De Velde is easily the biggest choke of all time: I didn’t need a video to write that description. It’s burned into my memory in the same way as Norman’s epic collapse in 1996. Majors will always matter more than any other tournament. Especially the epic collapses.

JK, you know who Van De Velde lost to in the resulting playoff. You know the only person to ever beat Tiger when he held a 54 hole lead going into the final round of a major. You know who shot 67 to beat Norman in 1996. Without looking, who did Garrigus lose to? yeah.

Response from JK

Without looking, Westwood ended up beating Garrigus in the first hole of the playoff. I think Westwood beat Stenson in the second hole of the playoff, but I’m not sure–I know it was a Sweed.

Anyways, that’s incidental. Basically, what you’re saying is that venue matters more than the degree of difficulty of the course, the degree of difficulty of the hole, the cushion of the lead, the way that player had played earlier in the week and earlier in the day, and how that player’s game fits the hole? Nevermind the amount of pressure on the player because of the size of the win. The whole “3 shots vs. 2 shots” is not “the only thing that goes in [my] favor.”

So, let me start at the top: The course. Carnoustie. One of the nastiest, craziest, unbelievable courses in the whole world. There are burns, blinds, crazy winds, small targets, pot bunkers, tight fairways, and hazards everywhere. People forget how bad it was: in a major championship, with the best golfers in the world playing, Van de Velde’s gaffe put him from +4 to +6. That’s right: a 3-way playoff at 6-over-par!! Tell me that course wasn’t hard. Garrigus finished at -10. Tell me that TPC Southwind is more difficult.

Note, as well…Tiger Woods, +10. When does Tiger ever shoot +10 for a tournament? That alone shows how unbelievably difficult Carnoustie was.

Next, the hole: 18 at TPC Southwind….

versus, 18th at Car-Nasty:

Look at that. Tell me where the “safe spot” is. Tell me where a 4-iron is supposed to land. Tell me how Van de Velde–who blocks 3 straight shots dead right so bad that he hits THE GRANDSTANDS–is supposed to get around that hole hitting a 4-iron off the tee. Tell me that it was not absolutely conceivable that Van de Velde could make a 6, standing on that tee.

Meanwhile, look at Garrigus at 18th of TPC Southwind. There is no way that a guy who hits the ball 350+ should ever have made a 7 on that hole. He could hit a driver into the trees, pitch out, hit up to the green, and 3-putt it without making a 7. There is no way that 18 at TPC Southwind compares to this…

Not to mention, 18 at TPC Southwind is a 450-yard dogleg, where Garrigus could easily have cut the corner. 18 at Carnoustie is 499 straight away; and you have to navigate the wind. There is no way to shorten it or make it easier.

Garrigus could easily dominate 18th at Southwind. No one can dominate 18 at Carnoustie.

But that brings me back to your other point: that Van de Velde had 3 bad decisions and Garrigus had only one; FALSE. Rather than smashing his driver to make sure he got his ball over the water, Garrigus decided to bring all the trouble into play by laying back with a hybrid. While Van de Velde brought the trouble into play, at least he was “going for it” by doing that. Had he nailed that driver, he would’ve walked it in for victory. Had Garrigus nailed his hybrid, he still would’ve had to get over the water to the green. But Garrigus made more bad decisions: he shouldn’t have dropped a ball in the rough; he shouldn’t have gone for the green on the next shot, but rather should’ve just laid up in the fairway with a wedge; and, once he hit the tree, he shouldn’t have hit the ball backwards to get it back into play. I mean, if you’re going to go for it, keep going for it. It’s bound to work out at least once.

But, perhaps most importantly, Van de Velde is French. I don’t know about you, but watching Van de Velde fall apart, I just knew it was going to happen. Somehow, you just knew he was going to throw it away. While it was unbelievable to be watching it, you knew it would happen.

Now, I get it–I’m not going to argue with you that throwing away the St. Jude Classic is like throwing away any major tournament. But, on the flip side: along with leading The Open Championship comes a whole deal of pressure that’s sure to lead to meltdowns. It happened to Tom Watson at Turnberry; a guy who had played beautifully all week suddenly takes 4 shots to get in from 170 yards. And don’t forget about Mickelson at the 2006 US Open; don’t forget how Mickelson double-bogeyed the last hole of that major championship to throw it away, just like Van de Velde. And, 18 at Winged Foot (see below) doesn’t even have water on it. What was Mickelson’s final score? +6, just like Van de Velde. So, why is Van de Velde’s collapse so special, when Mickelson did the same thing? Van de Velde was not the first time pressure played a part, and it won’t be the last. And, Turnberry and Winged Foot (even in US Open conditions) are way easier than Carnoustie in general, and the 18th holes are no comparison.

I know Garrigus didn’t throw away as much as Van de Velde or Mickelson did, but I’m not arguing that. I’m arguing that Garrigus’s collapse was far more painful to watch; it was far more unbelievable; it was far more gutwrenching. It has to be the biggest collapse in golf.


LG’s Reply to JK’s response:

In order to resolve this conflict, we have to go back to the question originally posed: What has been the biggest collapse in professional golf history?  .  Our mutual disagreement seems to stem from our respective definitions of “epic collapse.”  I think you believe that this term must mean which collapse is more unbelievable given the circumstance and the difficulty of the “collapsing” hole, while I take this term to mean the collapse that had the greatest impact on the history of the game.  To this end, I don’t believe you’d (reasonably) argue with me that Van De Velde’s collapse had a greater impact on the history of game. (if you do, please let me know, i shall be happy to post all the reasons you’re wrong :P)

I also believe that my understanding of “epic collapse” is the one that most golfers would apply to this question as well.  In the alternative, if we accept your definition, I still believe  (though not as emphatically) that Van De Velde’s collapse could be greater.  Here are the reasons why:

While I appreciate your analysis of the difficulty of the finishing holes, I think it more valuable to consider how difficult the hole was playing for the field.  We can analyze the holes to death, but really the only thing that matters is how hard it is for the professionals playing it that day because you and I both know that this game depends heavily on the conditions on the day of play.  Even the 106-yd par 3 seventh at Pebble can play anywhere from a lob wedge  to a 4-iron for the pros.    To this end, I think we should look at a better metric for determining difficulty of hole than our personal evaluations of the yardage book.  *(quick aside – If I learned anything while researching this question JK, it’s that you and I have are NOT the first to argue this point.) A google search turned up the following table of final round scorecards for 1999 Open Championship top 10 finishers:

Lawrie 4 4 3 4 5 4 4 2 4 34 4 4 3 4 4 4 3 3 4 33 67
Leonard 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 3 4 35 5 4 4 3 4 5 3 4 5 37 72
Van de Velde 4 4 5 4 5 5 4 4 3 38 4 5 5 3 4 4 3 4 7 39 77
Cabrera 4 4 3 4 4 5 4 3 4 35 4 3 4 4 5 4 3 4 4 35 70
Parry 4 4 3 4 4 5 4 2 4 34 3 4 7 4 5 4 3 6 3 39 73
Norman 4 4 4 5 5 5 4 3 4 38 4 4 3 3 4 4 3 4 5 34 72
Frost 5 6 3 5 6 4 3 3 4 39 4 4 5 2 4 4 4 4 4 35 74
Love 4 3 4 3 4 5 3 4 5 35 5 3 5 2 4 4 4 4 3 34 69
Woods 4 4 4 4 4 5 4 3 4 36 4 4 6 3 4 5 3 4 5 38 74

As you can see, for a representative sampling of Van De Velde’s peers, the WORST score that he should have reasonably had on 18 was a 5.  Instead, Van De Velde scored a gentleman’s 7; a full two shots worse than the WORST of his peers.  Though no such table exists for the St. Jude (lending credence to the wide acceptance of my construction of “epic collapse”), my guess is that Garrigus’s performance was within two strokes of the worst of his peers on the final hole.  Moreover, though you do make a fair point in arguing that the scores for the 1999 Open were some of the highest in history, a glance at the table shows that the scores on the final day are not reflective of the most difficult conditions experienced during that week, or even during the 10 most difficult rounds of the open championships.  In the end, even if the difficulty of the hole is relevant to the determination of the most epic collapse, I think it’s questionable whether this factor falls in favor of Garrigus.

I also appreciate your attempts to muddy my “three mistakes to one” argument.  This is not an argument related to general strategy as you frame it, but rather the mental mistakes that one must correct for once making the initial mistake off the tee.  I agree with you 100% that had Van De Velde hit the driver well, he would have likely made 4 or 5.  I also submit that had Garrigus hit the hybrid well, he would have likely made 4 or 5.  The mistakes that I’m referring to come after the tee shot.  Garrigus’s mistake here is not laying up.  He first dropped it in a shaved area near the hazard mark (not in the rough) and then pulled his shot in the trees.  His pitch out sideways is not a mistake.  You tell me how he could have gone for the green from this position (note – green is behind Garrigus 1/2 way between him and his caddie in the picture below):

I kindly refer you back to the discussion of Van De Velde’s mistakes above.  Garrigus really only made one mistake.  His failure to lay up is the only thing that should be causing him nightmares.  Van De Velde should (and has) taken long looks at three independent decisions he made en route to his 7 in 1999.

While I anticipate your worthy reply,  I refer our readers to a similar discussion that was had by the writers at ESPN on whether Van De Velde’s gaff was the greatest blunder in major championship history.  http://sports.espn.go.com/golf/britishopen07/news/story?id=2933998

Conversation: Zach Johnson

October 30, 2010

LG and I have talked about this on several occasions, and we’d like the PF community to weigh in on the subject (comment below).

2010-10-25 at 12:01 AM:
In my opinion, Zach Johnson is one of the absolute best players on the PGA Tour. He makes more with what he has than anyone else. He doesn’t have a long game, ranking 155th on Tour in driving distances. He makes his way around the course differently from everyone else. But he still manages to pace the field on so many occasions. When he donned the Green Jacket at the Masters several years ago, some people thought it was a fluke. But ZJ (my new nickname) has managed to finish in the top 10 of major tournaments 3 times and win on Tour 6 times in the last 4 years. He’s just an Iowa kid with a SeeMore putter, and he’s made over $3 million just this year (2010). In my opinion, ZJ is one of the best.



JK has thrown down the public gauntlet on an argument that he and I have had for some time now.  A little context is helpful (or in this case, funny enough to write about).  I had driven to Atlanta as part of a “tour of the south” golf trip that we decided to take after our time working together in Palo Alto.  We had taken one other trip to the Monterey Peninsula to play Spyglass Hill and Spanish Bay (don’t worry, we’ll be posting about this too), and found that we enjoyed each other’s company on golfing adventures.  This trip included a stop at one of the famed Robert Trent Jones trail courses (Silver Lakes just outside of Anniston, AL) as well as JK’s home course in ATL.

During our non-golf time, we took a trip to the PGA Tour Superstore located in Duluth, GA.  If you are unfamiliar with this facility, think of the hacker’s mecca.  This place has EVERYTHING.  Not only do they sell every freaking club imaginable, but they have every single item of clothing any tour player has ever worn, a full-service repair shop, driving range simulators, short game area, and a putting green that’s the size of most school playgrounds.  Needless to say, JK and  I headed straight to the putting green and engaged in a contest of wits (or contest lacking wits, I’ll let you decide).  We setup obstacles and gave each other the crappiest ball and putter that we could find and challenged the other to make the putt for the win.  While browsing for the worst flatstick possible, JK passed by those that were long, short, oblong, mis-shapen, ugly, or otherwise unsavory and landed upon the SeeMore.  This useless implement should only be used for prying open the trunk of a car when you’ve locked the keys inside.  As JK stated above, this is the putter that ZJ putts with, so our argument ensued in due course.

JK sets the stage for me to completely disagree with him and argue that ZJ is a terrible golfer and a fluke.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  Were I to attempt to argue otherwise, I would certainly lose all credibility that I may have on this blog.  Any person that can drop a ball into a trashcan from 200+ yards out consistently is clearly a fantastic golfer.  ZJ has proven this not only by winning the Masters (laying up on every par 5, i might add), but also 6 other times on the PGA Tour and twice on the Nationwide Tour.

That being said, there is a difference of opinion that must be expressed.  I am not a fan of ZJ’s putting stroke.  I have to admit that it works for him.  He is a great putter.  I don’t understand how it works for him though.  Having a straight right hand and adding loft to the putter face is a recipe for disaster for the average player.  I remember reading an article ZJ wrote in Golf Digest that discussed his technique as particularly good on the lightning quick greens at Augusta.  I couldn’t imagine anything being further from the truth.  While it is true that you can strike a downhill putt slightly harder if you add more loft to a putter face, doing so (for the average player) will only increase inconsistency because this creates a tendency not to finish the stroke.  Without the proper release of the putter face, the ball will never start on the intended line.  It has been my experience that most amateurs, even highly skilled amateurs, do not hit putts flush unless they focus on keeping the left wrist straight and leading the clubface with the back of their left hand.  This action encourages the proper release of the putter and creates the end-over-end roll that is the hallmark of a great putter.

Also, I dislike ZJ’s Oakleys.  dude, pick one.  the hat or the shades.  you don’t need both.


2010-10-30 at 9:22 AM:

LG, very nice description. But I’ll have to disagree with you–that “useless implement” has many possible applications besides prying open a locked car trunk. You could use it as a blunt object for mugging people, hit nails, or even “rescue” your passed-out, cheating husband from his black Escalade at 2:00 in the morning after he ran into a fire hydrant by smashing out the back window….or whatever else really happened.

However, you’ve conveniently left out the rest of the story. PGA Tour Superstore happened to have a “putting competition” that day. Store patrons who happened to be in the store at 12:00 were invited to participate in a putting competition. The winner got a store gift card–$20 or so. LG and I, being the fun-loving guys that we are, decided to bet between us. Using the aforementioned “ugly” putter that we had each picked out for the other, if either won the entire putting competition (including about 20 other store patrons who had participated), the winner would get $10 from the other. As I recall, LG finished second out of all the participants while using the “useless implement.”

The SeeMore putter actually is an interesting concept. Its goal is to get its user to properly line up putts. Rather than giving an aiming line, it has a “red dot” that the user must “hide” by putting the shaft over it. In this way, the user knows the face will be lined up. Of course, this process makes a lot of assumptions–for example, that the user’s eyes are properly located above the ball, that the user does not forward press the shaft, etc.

The particular putter used by LG in this competition, however, was quite useless because it had a double-bend shaft. What that meant was, there was really no way to “hide” the red dot. That’s why I chose it. It was pretty frustrating.

While you may not like ZJ’s flat right hand, there’s no reason why it’s a bad stroke. I’ll admit it looks different than the rest of the PGA Tour (which of itself usually indicates that something is wrong), but everything about ZJ’s game is “different” from the rest of the PGA Tour. The flat right hand, however, is not the only important thing in the stroke–in fact, it’s not even one of the important things in the stroke. (see http://www.golfdigest.com/golf-instruction/2009-02/obrienputting) ZJ’s arms and shoulders are aligned to the target. He has his eyes inside the line of the ball. He makes a good rotational stroke. What else is needed to sink putts? Apparently, not a straight left hand–ZJ was 6th on Tour this year in putting.

So, really, your gripe is that he looks funny. Your problem is that his hand isn’t the same as yours. well, LG, I refuse to be a hand-ist; I judge a golfer by the score on his player sheet, not by the look of his hands.

But the sunglasses are kind of bad.

Though I generally do enough reading on a daily basis to never want to read anything “for pleasure,” Carl Hiaasen’s The Downhill Lie caught my eye.  Before I begin raving about the wonderful writing, (actually) laugh-out-loud jokes, and truly touching story that Hiaasen has composed, I should provide a disclaimer:  Hiaasen attended Emory University which is also my alma mater.   I have no shame in admitting that this fact is the reason I purchased this book from the $5 shelf at borders.  That fact aside,  I would recommend this book to anyone who is interested in feeling better about their own golf game.

Hiaasen describes his return to golf after a 32-year long break.  His entry to golf, like many, was due to his father.  He entered the game as a boy and never really took to it.  Like many children, he found the game difficult and frustrating.  After his father passed, however, he felt as though this might be a way for him to reconnect with him through the game he loved.  With dry wit and imagery I have yet to find in another golf book, he describes his triumphs, travails, obsessions, and follies that nearly every person demented enough to play this game experiences.  Ultimately, Hiaasen concludes his journey by realizing that passing the game on to his own son is truly his “contribution” to golf.  If you have time, I highly recommend reading The Downhill Lie.

From the book flap: “Hiaasen’s chronicle of his shaky return to this bedeviling pastime and the ensuing demolition of his self-esteem – culminating with the savage 45-hole tournament – will have you rolling with laughter.  Yet the bittersweet memories of playing with his own father and the glow he feels when watching his own young son belt the ball down the fairway will also touch your heart.  Forget Tiger, Phil and Ernie.  If you want to understand the true lure of golf, turn to Carl Hiaasen, who has written an extraordinary book for the ordinary hacker.”

The Downhill Lie Book

Buy the book here

Review: Lake Chabot

October 26, 2010

Expectation has a lot to do with perception. How often have you expected something great–either because you heard great things or because you were just excited about it–only to be let down by the experience? The nice thing, though, is that the expectation dichotomy applies just as equally to under-estimated experiences.

With that in mind, one of the most overperforming golf courses I’ve ever played is a dinky little public course called Lake Chabot (in Oakland/Berkeley, CA). I got out there on a Saturday. The first thing I noticed is that the driveway actually runs through the course (the front 9). When you’re playing, you have to make sure no cars are coming–and, when you’re driving in, you have to stop between each hole to make sure no golf balls are flying into your window! Kind of wierd.

The second thing I noticed was how hilly it was. I knew this was going to be a walk.

Other than that, I didn’t expect much. I randomely paired up with some people, paid $25, grabbed my bag, and started out. At $25, the main reason I went to the course was the price. Nowhere else in the entire bay is a green fee so inexpensive.

The course had a lot of short par 4s, which I found to be a lot of fun (trying to hit in 1). At around 68.5, it’s not Read the rest of this entry »

The following is a posting string found at http://www.golfwrx.com/forums/topic/418293-thoughts-for-the-first-tee. This is one approach that you can take, and, ultimately, you have to find a mental game that works for you, but, hopefully the interaction will give you a good start on finding a thought process for your golf round
Original Post:

Whilst the Mrs was shopping today I popped into a bookshop for a coffee and flicked through a copy of ‘Zen Golf’ by Dr Joe Parent.

The following passage caught my eye, I’m going from memory here so it’s not word for word but I hope the message is clear.

I thought it was good.

Congratulations on your perfect swing.

Sure, with practice and learning you might improve it, but for today’s round it’s the only swing you’ve got and if you allow it, it will get you round in the lowest possible number of shots.

Picture the scene, you hit a poor shot, so after thinking about your swing you come up with a ‘fix’, you hit a couple of decent shots and then another bad one, you come up with another ‘fix’, so you’ve a ‘fix’ sat on a ‘fix’. So on and so forth until you end up with a ‘fix’ on a ‘fix’ on a ‘fix’ on a ‘fix’ and you’ve completely forgotten how to ‘swing’ the golf club.

You get to the 16th tee so fed up you forget everything and just swing the club, you play your best golf for the remaining holes and think “if only I could start all over again playing like that!”

So, what if, after that first poor shot instead of thinking ‘what was wrong with my swing?’ you think ‘what in my mind prevented me from making my perfect swing’ and fix your head not your swing.


Not a bad thought. For me, it’s a slight variation. I work on my swing in practice. I spend time trying to get it as good as it can be. I know it has flaws, but knowing those flaws helps me play better golf. Instead of fighting them, I embrace them. I know when I should back off a shot because, if I make my usual miss, it’s a lost ball. I know when I should go for a shot because my usual miss will be OK. I don’t fight myself when playing golf–there’s enough other things out there to fight against.

More importantly, the first tee has to be a positive thing. If I know where my swing faults are, I can walk up to the first tee and “see the shot” that I’m going to hit. I know what a good one would be, I know what a bad one would be, and I see the good one. Even if I miss a little bit, I’m still OK. I don’t go for too much, and I don’t play it too safe.

Thinking about my game this way has helped me tremendously. I used to go out on the golf course and assume that if I didn’t hit every shot dead at the pin or straight down the fairway, I was terrible at golf. Now, I accept my flaws and use them to my advantage, helping me form a strategy that works for me. It helps me score better, and it makes the game more fun, because I’m not hating myself during the round.

I hope that helps someone out there. BTW, in the past two years I’ve gone from 4.5 hdcp to 1.1.


October 23, 2010

Hands down, the cheesiest, most BS attempt to scam golfers…..ever…..


What crap. But, it cracks me up every time. Almost like the ShakeWeight. Enjoy, PF readers!

Play of the Week 3

October 22, 2010

This week’s POTW focuses on a guy you’ve probably never heard of: Robert Garrigus. From his name, you would suspect he’s an Irish blacksmith rather than a golfer. And, with the strength of the great Garrigus blacksmiths, Robert currently ranks #1 on the PGA Tour in driving distance–that’s right, it’s not Bubba, not DJ, not JB or Boo; it’s Garrigus.

(taken from Garrigus’s ESPN profile, http://sports.espn.go.com/golf/players/profile?playerId=1254)

Garrigus (along with 4 others) shot 7-under-par 64 at the Justin Timberlake Shriners Hospitals for Children Open. So why is Garrigus the spotlight of this weeks POTW? Well, earlier this year, Garrigus suffered what is perhaps the most epic collapse in PGA Tour history. Greg Norman’s Masters collapse in 1996 covered the entire 18 holes of the final round, and it was due largely to Nick Faldo’s incredible 67 on the final 18. (see http://www.usatoday.com/sports/golf/mastshrk.htm) Van de Velde’s loss at the British Open was a 2-shot lead on the 18th hole. While it did occur in a major, with Van de Velde standing on the 18th tee at Carnoustie, it was foreseeable that he could make a 6 on that golf hole.

But Garrigus tops these all, in my humble opinion. Garrigus carried a 3-shot lead into the final hole of the St. Jude Classic. I watched in epic horror as Garrigus quickly and painfully dissected his lead. See the clips below.

See also http://sports.yahoo.com/golf/blog/devil_ball_golf/post/Robert-Garrigus-suffers-the-cruelest-of-18th-hol?urn=golf-247990

One shot blocked far left into the water off the tee. Drop. A terrible attempt at a hero shot, luckily hits a tree and doesn’t go in the water. Chip out from there. Onto the green. 2 putts. Unbelievable. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Here was a guy who had never won on Tour; he had played beautifully all week; at the last moment, it was spoiled.

But he had a playoff. He could still win. Then, as a sign of his inevitable doom, Garrigus ripped a 300+ yard 3-wood, the ball landing directly behind a tree. He had no shot to the green. He chipped out, played up to the green, and then, from 25 feet, barely missed the putt, rolling over the edge.

Now, don’t get me wrong; there are a lot of reasons not to like Garrigus: his unbelievably Irish grill to match his name (although he is American, oddly enough), his bobby-stick of a putter (28″ long–about the size of a big Mag-Lite), or, just plain envy of his unbelievable ability to kill the golf ball. But you couldn’t help but hurt for the guy, seeing this go down; his one chance to win, to be guaranteed a spot at the Masters (from ranking/money list); it was all gone. Sure, he made a good paycheck–but he lost over $500,000 by making a 7 on the last hole.

Since the PF’s encouragement last week led Rocco to victory (see POTW 2 and 2.5), Robert, we’re pulling for ya! Even though it’s not a regular Tour event, I hope you can avenge some of the demons that rose on the 72nd hole of the St. Jude.

Keep bombing ’em!


Comments from LG: See “Conversation: POTW 3 – Garrigus vs. Van de Velde” above