Shhhhhhh! Trying to putt, here - Column

Greg Webb

As the weather-influenced U.S. Open PGA Tournament was being played out before, through and after last weekend in New York, the final day of play on Monday provided a goodly portion of drama. The tourney's closing round, part of which was played on Sunday, the originally-scheduled last day, saw the early leaders come back toward the pack while a couple of sentimental favorites' resurgence made the TV air time well-worth watching, of course, if one was fortunate enough to view on Monday. usually reserved for a playoff, should one be needed. Whew!

Even the TV stat guys were struggling a bit, as rainy rounds overlapped days, and graphics displayed scores based on the day ... or was it the round? And heaven forbid if you didn't realize you were watching part of Thursday's round, on Sunday. Or if you watching Tiger's comeback ... from last year. But the weather, and the havoc it wreaked on commercial television, was not the real story, through my oft-betraying eyes, anyway.

Used to be a time when Sunday afternoon golf on TV was prime dog-dozing time. The blissful combination of a semi-tired body, a comfy couch and the hushed tones of golf announcers were the perfect formula for drifting in and out of consciousness, intermittently opening an eye to check the leader board.

Of course, this was before (and after) a time of life when the kids needed to be watched and one could successfully "promise" that honey-dos would be taken care of by the end of the weekend. I don't know how many times I've hung pictures or put away boxes in the attic late on Sunday nights. Still counts ... the weekend wasn't over, yet.

But it's gotten harder to sleep through the process, these days. The golf-fan crowds have gotten louder over the past few years. I'm not talking about the roar of the crowd when a long, critical putt drops in the hole or a dead-on approach shot hits the green and sucks back to within inches of the hole. Those are crowd pleasers and deserve high-decible recognition. I am totally OK with a long and loud reception at the green to tournament leaders or the response Steve Mickelson evoked from well-wishers in support of his wife, who was to begin cancer treatment this week.

What has become increasingly annoying, especially as a deterrent to successful napping, are the inane hoots and hollers from the tee box after or at the same time, a golfer hits his drive.

You've heard the shouts. The most prevalent, of course, are "You da' man!" or "Get in the hole!".

Nitpicky? Oh, I think not. First of all, it's not even gender-friendly to holler "YDM". I mean, there is an LPGA, too, ya' know. "You da' Wo-Man" just doesn't work. You da' Gal, maybe? Nah.

The practice just needs to go away. But it won't. I swear it's the same two guys, following Tiger around the circuit and standing as close to the tee box microphone as possible.

From all indications, Tiger Woods is an affable, decent guy, but he just has to be chomping at the bit, knowing that, a silent pause while fans watch the path of his drive and see the little pill fade (or draw, as it were) into the distance, will not be followed by a gasp of oohs and aahs and polite, if enthusiastic, applause. Instead, some mathmatically-challenged clown who spent a bit too much time at the beer tent yells "get in the hole!" He seems to ignore the fact that, while Woods can pummel a ball 300+ yards off the tee box, the hole just happens to be a 473-yard par 4.

I suspect that in the not-too-distant future, those same guys will show up escorting a golfer they are NOT rooting for that week, and taunt the poor, non-favorite with some hearty "Noonans!" as he starts his backswing For those of you who think I've just stripped a cranial gear, well may be, but ask anyone who has seen "Caddyshack" about the "Noonan" thing. Sorry, it's not funny when you have to explain it, right?

Again, I'm all for fan exuberance ... that, afterall, is what makes them fans. But enough with the tired, worn-out phrase bellering.

And albeit horizontal, I'm trying to 'enjoy' the golf tournament on TV ... yawn.