We haven’t checked in on Tiger Woods in a few months since he dumped his swing coach, his agent, and his caddie. Let’s take a look-see, shall we??Turns out... yup, he’s still a D-Bag.

Last week, he decided he wanted Dustin Johnson’s caddie, Joe LaCava. So you know Tiger. What Tiger wants, Tiger gets --regardless of anybody else.

You golf geeks out there might remember the name Joe LaCava. He caddied for Fred Couples for most of the '80s, '90s, and 2000s. Just recently, Fred (who actually considers other people when making decisions) told Joey to go ahead and find more regular work. Even though Fred is quite successful on the Champions Tour, his ailing back makes it hard to stick to a regular playing schedule.

Joey hooked up with DJ in August, a shooting star on the tour who promptly won at the 2011 Barclays. Then Tiger cad-jacked DJ last week.

My question is: Why in the world would Joey leave DJ for Tiger?

Sure, I understand that Tiger is the best player to have ever teed it up, and I don’t think he’s done winning yet. But jumping from Dustin Johnson to Tiger Woods right now is like cashing in your 401K to load up on BP stock. The only difference is Tiger has showed no progress in fixing any of his leaks and has taken responsibility for nothing.

You have to hand it to DJ for taking the high road. "I spoke to Tiger about it. There's no hard feelings at all," he said. Then he mumbled something under is breath that sounded like “ego maniacal, womanizing, cocky, selfish, bleepin' bleep bleep, has-been.”

Let’s look at the tale of the tape.

Average Driving Distance: DJ 314.2 yards, Tiger 289.1 yards
Drive Accuracy: DJ 57.17%, Tiger 52.23%
Wins in the last two years: DJ 3, Tiger 0
Current Rankings (10/2/11): DJ 5th, Tiger 51st
Total Majors Won: DJ 0, Tiger 14

Okay, so maybe Tiger has him on the last stat. I’ll admit that. But if you were to bet right now on who will win the most majors going forward, even the best Vegas book makers would struggle to make Tiger a favorite. Even if Tiger does find the magic again, it will be at least a few years, and Joe isn’t any spring chicken himself. (Sorry Joey.)

We shall see this week if Tiger has worked hard to justify Freddy using one of his President Cup picks on him. My guess is he won’t make the cut.

“I’m going back to Q’school.”  Wait… what?! (Insert the sound of the needle being dragged across the record here.)

That’s right -- the geniuses on the LPGA tour are not granting Lexi an immediate tour card for next year.

Forget that Lexi just put a (beep)-whooping on the best golfers in the world.  She won the Navistar LPGA Classic in September by 5 shots over the best field in golf.

Never mind that Lexi eclipsed the age record by two years, previously held by Paula Creamer and Marlene Hagge, who both won at 18.

And ignore that she qualified for a US Open at the age of twelve.

Let’s face it. When it comes to popularity, the LPGA tour has been spiraling down faster than the value of vacation homes in Miami.  Since 2008, the tour has lost more than ten tournaments, and prize money is down more than $7 million.

Folks aren’t showing up to events anymore, and nobody is dialing them up on the Golf Channel.  “Hmmm, what should we watch tonight?”

WNBA – click.

LPGA – click.

Women’s beach volleyball – “Hey… yeah, leave it here for a second!”

Lexi Thompson would provide a much-needed spark in this sport.  You can throw out the obvious:  that she’s American and only two Americans have even won on tour this year (Brittany Lincicome and Stacey Lewis).  Regardless of sex or nationality, it’s just a good story when a gum-popping, pimple-faced kid who just got her driver’s license is beating the top players in the world.  The LPGA may very well have a Tiger Woods on their hands.

However, the powers-that-be on the tour apparently have not spotted the golden ticket in the chocolate bar yet.  LPGA commissioner Mike Whan said that Lexi will have to follow protocol and complete in Q’school.  He did manage to grant her an exception for the 18-year-old age limit.  And before this epic win last week, she played in the first stage (of three)  at Q’school and won by 10 strokes.

There’s no doubt that she’d cruise through the remaining stages, but Lexi’s camp announced that they would wait to hear back from the LPGA before continuing.

So what do you say, Mike?  Perhaps you should rethink this whole thing before Lexi decides to try her hand on the regular PGA Tour.  I can see it now… Lexi Thompson takes down Bubba Watson in sudden death playoff at Augusta.  Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but last February she beat some male pros, winning a mini tour back in South Florida.

(That must have been a rough dinner with the wife after going down to a sixteen year-old-girl.  “So honey, who won?”  “Never mind... pass the potatoes, please.”)

This kid is no fluke, and no matter how she gets her LPGA card, 2012 should be a fun year to follow the tour.   Heck, I might even flip over from beach volleyball.

It was a sunny, warm Saturday, and I haven’t sweated Freddie around the links since the 2007 Player’s Championship at Sawgrass. Thus, I jumped in my modified bio-fueled, fully renewable “Love-mobile” (it runs on love… and lots of $3.87/gallon gas) and headed north out of Portland for the 180-mile trek to the beautiful TPC Snoqualmie Ridge.

I timed it perfectly, running from the shuttle to the number 10 tee box where I saw the group in front of Fred just walking up the steep, ascending fairway. I was surprised that there weren’t more fans swarming the area. After all, Fred is the main draw for the +50 pros and his picture is plastered all over the billboards, programs, and tickets. They even were handing out Fred Couples bobblehead dolls on the 14th green. (I’m auctioning mine off on eBay.)

I was taking in the spectacular mountains that frame the course when three golf carts came screeching around the corner in single file and almost ran me over. (Oh yeah, they let the “retirees” ride in golf carts on this tour.)

The cart in the lead was driven by a very petite lady in pink shorts and a white caddie apron. A blond ponytail poked out of her Bridgestone baseball cap, and fancy mirror sunglasses made her look like a movie star. On the back of the apron in big bold letters read: “COUPLES.”

What?! Where’s Joey LaCava?! (Joey, of course was across the country in New Jersey getting his first win at the Barclays looping for Dustin Johnson.) She was Midge Trammell, Fred’s girlfriend and apparently his interim caddie.

Finally, Fred came strolling down the fairway towards the tee box. He was grinning while he chatted with playing partner Mark O’Meara -- no doubt discussing the latest “puffed up” media story about Fred using one of his picks on Tiger for The President’s Cup.

Hole 10, 353 yd., Par 4: Birdie. He was first to hit and pulled out a hybrid and took that familiar upright, open stance. “WHACK!” The ball sailed high to the right, drawing perfectly back to the left landing in the center of the fairway and rolling another 15 yards.

On the approach, after both Mark O’Meara and Mark Wiebe hit it short in the bunker guarding the hilltop green, Fred wedged in a dart that landed 10 yards past the pin, spinning back to 4 feet. (Wow!) He stroked the birdie dead center. It was a lot less stressful on me then back when I followed him in the '80s and '90s where it seemed he missed about half of those knee-knockers. Bless the belly-putter!

Hole 11, 484 yd., Par 4: Bogey. I hoofed it ahead of the group to the 11th tee box, and when Fred walked up I said “Nice shot, Freddie!” He nodded and said thanks. Then he proceeded to pull his drive into the junk on the left. (Uh-oh, I jinxed him.)

After missing the green, he had a very easy up and down, but he hit a lackluster chip and missed the putt and bogeyed the hole. (Okay, I’m not talking to him anymore. Sorry, Fred.)

Hole 12, 426 yd., Par 4: Par. Fred hit another bad drive on the 12th, this time missing in the long stuff to the right of the fairway. He had no other choice but to pitch out. That left him 80 yards to get up and down for par, which he did, sticking a lob wedge to 5 feet and another good putting stroke.

Hole 13, 210 yd., Par 3: Birdie. It’s a grueling 3-story climb to the 13th tee box from the 12th green. Walking up the path, I had to give way to the carts, and noticed Midge driving up solo.

“You mean you are going to make Freddy walk up this hill?” I asked between deep gulps of air.

“He likes to walk,” she replied. She smiled but I couldn't help but notice that she seemed a bit uncomfortable during the round. She obviously hadn’t spent a lot of time on the golf course.

Both the Marks missed the green and landed in the greenside left. Fred hit a beautiful draw that landed on the front of the green rolling to the back, pin-high, 20 feet.

Midge came driving up ahead of the group and tried to subtly ask the volunteer if the ball on the green was Fred’s. However, she wasn’t sly enough because Freddy noticed, and he wasn’t about to let it go.

He had a big smile on his face when he teased, “You didn’t even watch my shot?!” She was flustered and not amused. The mockery must have relaxed Freddie, because he stroked the long putt into the middle of the cup. BAMM, another birdie!

Hole 14, 448 yd., Par 4: Birdie. This is a really cool hole shaped like a horseshoe with the green 80 vertical feet below the tee. The shortest distance to the green is across a giant ravine. Boom-Boom had no problem, launching a high drive that landed in the center of the green but skidded into the rough behind. The gallery was delighted. And by gallery, I mean four old guys who kept asking me, “Where’s the ball?”

Freddie made a tough up-and-down look very easy for his second consecutive birdie. He’s en fuego, and he has a par-5 coming up next!

Hole 15, 590 Par 5: Par. Unfortunately on this hole, Freddy fell a little from the pedestal I kept him on. After crushing a drive down the middle of the fairway, he got smoked by the beer-bellied Mark O’Meara. (Are you kidding me?) It’s true; Mark out-drove Fred by at least 10 yards.

What’s more, Fred hit an ugly approach into the green-side bunker and failed to get up and down for birdie. Mark hit his approach on the green and 2-putted for a nice birdie, four.

Hole 16, 380 yd., Par 4: Par. Fred hit a hybrid to wedge distance in the middle of the fairway and promptly chunked his approach shot into the greenside bunker. (UGGH!) He cleverly used O’Meara’s ball as a backboard on his sand-shot as if playing bocce ball in the park. The ball would have run 10 feet by, but instead smacked Mark’s and stopped short for a tap-in 3-footer. This is a perfectly legal play. (Let that be a lesson to you youngsters out there.)

Hole 17, 211 yd., Par 3: Par. Nothing spectacular here, except Mark Wiebe made a pretty cool lob shot out of the deep rough to save par. Fred hit the green and two-putted for his par.

Hole 18, 498 yd., Par 5: Birdie. The finishing hole is an easy birdie hole for most of these guys. However, the short par 5 is up hill and heavily bunkered. Freddie annihilated his TaylorMade R9 driver over the dogleg right corner and had an iron in his hands for his approach shot. The crowd had grown and was buzzing around the green that was framed by the giant Craftsman-style clubhouse and several double-decker hospitality tents. I swiftly made it up the hill before Fred hit his approach shot and snuck into the Seattle Seahawk’s hospitality tent -- free wings and beer. Sweeeeeet!

Fred hit a gorgeous iron shot that flew high over the pin and spun back to 15 feet for eagle. The crowd went crazy! He stroked his eagle putt beautifully, but it didn’t break as much as he expected and it lipped out. He tapped in for birdie and tipped his hat to the appreciative crowd.

The jittery Midge looked relieved that the day was over and scurried to the cart while Fred signed autographs. I had another beer and hung out in the cool shade flirting with Sea-gals.

Although Fred shot a nice -3 on the back nine, and -3, 69 for the day, his bookend 73’s on Friday and Sunday were only good enough for a tie for 16th. Mark Calcavecchia (70,67,65) won in a one-hole playoff over Russ Cochran.

If you ever get a chance to go out and follow these guys, don’t pass it up. Watching how they play the game will take strokes off of yours. And Freddie is still the man, even without Joe (and socks). If he can keep that bad back healthy, he will win many more major championships.

Last week, Webb Simpson followed suit, winning the 2011 Wyndham Championship with a gut-stick. And the old man, Freddy Couples, won his first major on the Champions Tour with his trusty long putter. It’s a shame they didn’t have these things twenty years ago --Freddy would have 2 or 3 more majors under his belt.

Notable pros that have gone to the belly putter include: Sergio Garcia, Vijay Singh, Tom Lehman, and Colin Montgomerie. And you can bet your 2-ball putter that more and more will be added to this list in the coming weeks.

So why is the long putter so great? I’m so glad you asked. Jump up off your duff and go grab the broom out of the kitchen and come right back. I’ll wait.

First and foremost, long putters seem to be yip-proof. The yips, of course, are those involuntary twitches that seem to pop up just after the guy in your foursome says, “I got 5 bucks says you don’t make that putt!” (I hate that guy.) They’ll turn PGA tour pros into golf announcers overnight. I give you the arrogant Johnny Miller. Johnny was forced into early retirement when those 4-foot putts turned him into Ozzy Osborne. He tried just about everything including tucking the putter into his right underarm. (Gross.)

Belly putters are more yip-proof because they are anchored in your stomach, which makes it a lot harder to flip, jab, and jerk the putter.

Secondly, belly putters help get your forearms aligned properly. To be a good putter, you want to have your forearms aligned on the same plane as the putter shaft. To check this, take that broom and jab it in your belly, or simply grab your old short putter and take your normal putting stance. Now, stand upright with the putter horizontal (perpendicular) to the ground. Look in a mirror (or ask your wife). If you can see the butt of the broom below or above your trailing forearm, then you are not on plane. Go ahead and make adjustments (and think of a clever reply to your wife’s heckles that this is the first time she’s ever seen a broom in your hands).

Belly putters help your forearms get aligned because when you jam the stump in your beer-belly, you naturally hold the grip in your palms -- this will align your forearms on the same plane as the putter shaft.

Finally, belly putters help you stay down through the putt. How many times in this game have you heard the tip, “Keep your head down?” There is no part of the game of golf where this is more important than in putting. The common tendency golfers have (especially on those butt-puckering pressure putts) is to peak at the hole before the stroke is finished. When your melon pops up, your putter does too, and you hit the ball with a glancing blow -- leaving it short or missing to the right.

Belly putters help you stay down through the stoke, helping you hit it solid and online because the putter is anchored to your body like a kickstand. Incidentally, this is also a fantastic safety device for you golfers out there who like to drink on the golf course.

I would like to apply for the recently open position as your caddie. I don’t have any actual professional experience on the PGA Tour, but I do believe I possess some strong qualities that deem me an excellent fit.

-- "Quiet Please!"

First and foremost, I’m very good at keeping my mouth shut. I hear and see nothing. (This is not meant figuratively.) Literally, I am blind in one eye, and most of my hearing has been damaged from my addiction to NASCAR. (I’m over that now; its golf all the way for me.)

I understand how important confidentiality is, especially in the wake of this overblown scandal of yours. The media is crazy! And I certainly know what it’s like to have beautiful women throw themselves at you.

-- "Stand Please. No Pictures!!"

Secondly, I am in top physical condition, perhaps not quite as fit as you. You are the statue of David. Check that -- you make the statue of David look like Homer Simpson. Tiger, you are a well conditioned athlete that changed the way golfers on tour approach the game (with the exception of that beer-bellied drunkard Darren Clarke). And what’s he ever done besides win the 2011 British Open? (Total fluke.)

-- "I SAID NO PICTURES! GIMME THAT #$@ #$@$ CAMERA!!"

In addition, I work well under pressure. You need somebody that can get it done on Sunday. I will admit that most Sundays I’m mowing the lawn and napping in my hammock, but that doesn’t mean I’m untested. For example, one time I had to pick up an empty Coors Light can and toss it toward the trash without breaking my stride. I had 25 front, 30 back, with a left to right breeze. Needless to say, I drained it in the back of the trash can.

-- "IF YOU TAKE ONE MORE @#$%^%% PICTURE – YOU ARE GOING TO EAT THAT CAMERA, YOU #$%^ # #^^#*&^% #$#%^& #$#$$%^!!!"

Finally, I know that your top priority is winning majors and beating Jack’s record. And you only need 5 more to do it! Tiger, you can do that in your sleep, especially with the atrocious talent that is on the PGA Tour right now -- hackers like Rory Mcllroy, Bubba Watson, Dustin Johnson, Rickie Fowler, Hunter Mayhan, Luke Donald, Ben Crane, Jason Day, and Nick Watney. These “pretty boys” may be able to hit it farther then you. And they seem to have a better short game… Okay, so maybe they can even sink a lot more putts than you can, but they aren’t Tiger Woods. You are the best player to ever play the game.

Please find my resume attached. I look forward to meeting with you at your earliest convenience.

(Pardon my punctuation this morning, but I’m still groggy from staying up all night watching the PGA Championship on my DVR.)

If you missed it, you just passed up the most exciting major in the post Dirk Tig-ler era. I haven’t been this glued to the television screen since John Daly (and his mullet) won the PGA in 1991.

Let me set it up for you. Two rookies -- Jason (Pokerface) Dufner and Keegan (Grande Triple Mocha No-room) Bradley -- battled for the PGA Championship at the Atlanta Athletic Club.

Keegan, playing one hole ahead of Jason, came to the meat of the course trailing by a couple of strokes. Holes 15 through 18 were impossible, and Dufner was the only one all week that seemed completely undaunted by these mine fields (playing them -3 while the field played them in +a trillion). But Dufner seemed like he’d be undisturbed by shock therapy. It was amazing; this guy hasn’t ever won a tournament, let alone a major, but he persisted on striping fairways and dropping in 20-foot putts like he was out on the practice green, and his expression never changed.

Meanwhile, Keegan was living and dying on every swing of the club. At #15, a par-3 protected on one side by water and fire-breathing bunkers on the other, Keegan cleverly hit his drive left of the wet stuff. As the ball flew towards the bunker, he bobbed and contorted like he had indulged in the pre-round Waffle House promotion: “Show your PGA Card and get extra gravy.” But Keegan smiled when it stopped in the long rough just short of the green.

It was clear he was nervous on his chip-shot because he played very quickly. I was just returning from the fridge with my PBR when I saw the ball running for the water like it was on fire. He skulled his chip and it plunked in like it was struck by Charles Barkley. Keegan holed out in 6 with a devastating triple bogey.

What’s more, all this was witnessed back on the tee by CIA Agent Dufner, now with a 5 shot lead. You could tell Dufner was elated because he looked at his caddie with the same blank, emotionless expression that he had on his mug for four days -- as if he was thinking, “Should I have a ham sandwich or shouldn’t I?”

But finally a chink in the Duf-armour. Jason, who should have been aiming at the trees on the left with a sand wedge, took a wood and promptly splashed his own ball in the watery graveyard. WHAT?!?

Afterwards, I was pretty sure I saw an eyebrow rise on Duff’s stone face, but when I played it back, it turned out to be just a blink. He calmly got up and down from the 100-yard drop and minimized the damage by draining another huge putt for bogey.

Then things got real interesting. Keegan, who was coming off an implosion just last week when he shot 41 on the back nine of the WGC Bridgestone, took a page out of US Open Champion Rory Mcllroy’s book – learn from your blunders and come back stronger!

Keegan (the belly putting 25-year-old) went on a Tiger-esque run, knocking it stiff on 16 and making birdie, then following up with a 35-foot bomb on 17 for another birdie.

As Keegan pumped his fist and ran laps around greens, the roars echoed through the rolling hills and tall pines of the Athletic Club. It turned out to be enough to unnerve the unflappable Dufner, who bogeyed those same two holes.

Headed to a 3-hole aggregate playoff were the new faces of the PGA Tour: young bucks with buckets of ice cubes in their Michael Jordan Hanes boxer briefs.

Dufner landed the first blow with another perfect drive that bisected the narrow 16th fairway. Bradley countered, blowing it by Dufner’s drive by 50 yards. Dufner came with an uppercut when a 5-iron flew over the top of the flag and stopped 4 feet stiff, past the pin. But Bradley swung harder and more ferociously, and his wedge landed flush and stuck 3 feet underneath the hole like a poisonous dart.

Dufner staggered. After four days of fearless play, the remorseless Keegan Bradley finally wore him down. His hands tensed and he jabbed at the 4 footer, and it painfully slid by the hole.

Finally, Keegan knocked him to the canvas when he confidently stroked in his birdie putt.

They still had two more holes to play, but the momentum had clearly swung, and even a birdie on the impossible 18 was not enough after Dufner’s bogey on the 2nd playoff hole, #17.

These two kids are following the leads of Mcllroy, Bubba, DJ, and others. They play fearless golf, and when they get knocked down, they get right back up and get stronger.

Don’t feel too bad for Dufner -- you can bet he’ll be back. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him doing this again next April, at Augusta.

• Adam Scott will bonk a fan on the head with his long putter after he asks “Can I get your caddie’s autograph?”
• Rickie Fowler and Rory Mcllroy will miss their tee time after staying up all night playing beer-pong.
• Luke Donald will taunt Tiger Woods waving at him across the Applebee’s with his giant foam #1 hand.
• Lee Westwood will ask Phil Mickelson during breakfast, “What’s a grit?”
• Bubba Watson will birdie #15 the 260 yard par-3 with a 5-iron.
• Jason Day will remark to fellow Australian Geoff Ogilvy, “Thy shore tawk funny here, mite.”
• Darren Clarke and Miguel Angel Jimenez will be thrown out of the Holiday Inn pool for skinny dipping with Hooters waitresses.
• Dustin Johnson will reach the #12 551 yard Par-5 going driver – 9-iron.
• Anthony Kim and Sergio Garcia will get in a fist fight after A.K. coughs “Has-been” into his fist.
• Zach Johnson will hit driver on the #17, 207 Par 3.
• David Toms will accidentally hand his valet slip to Gary Woodland.
• Phil Mickelson’s butt sweat with keep him from dawning his favorite pair of white pants.
• Ryo Ishikawa’s translator will be stymied trying to interpret “boiled peanuts.”
• Hunter Mayhan and Andres Romero will be thrown off The Atlanta Athletic Club for drag racing golf carts.
• After out driving John Daly with his 3-wood, Dustin Johnson will start calling him “Pops.”
• Ryan Moore will drop from heatstroke and be medivacked back to Seattle.
• Francesco Molinari will walk out of the Olive Garden because they served him boxed wine.
• And your winner is Nick Watney, after a sudden death playoff with Rory Mcllroy and Jason Day.

“I’m getting a make-over!”

And as it turns out, the 22-year old Taiwanese golf star who has already won five majors (two years younger than when Tiger won his 5^th) is actually pretty.  I know, rigggggght?

You can’t blame her; while most girls were primping for their proms, Yani was pounding away on the driving range.  She started playing golf at the age of 6, and it didn’t take long for her to start winning.  She won just about everything she entered as an amateur, winning 19 times.  As a teenager, she won on the Asian tour and the Canadian tour.  She qualified for the LPGA tour on her first try in 2008, placing 6^th.

Since then she’s been dominating.  She is breaking records as if they were David Hasselhoff albums.  In 2008, she won her first major, the LPGA Championship.  She won it again this year.  In 2009, at the age of 20, she carded a 62 while winning LPGA Corning Classic and became the youngest player to ever break the $2 million mark.  In 2010, she won two more majors, The Kraft and The US Women’s Open.  And last week with her successful defense of her British Open win, she became the youngest golfer to have five major victories under her belt.  Who’s Tiger, anyway?

We’ll be keeping a close eye on this young lady, and not just because she got her hair teased and her eyebrows waxed.  She is the real deal.

You can catch her back in action on the Golf Channel September 8-11^th at the Walmart NW Arkansas Championship presented by P&G.  Last year she trailed Michelle Wie by three strokes going into the final round but ran her down firing a 65.  Just another day at the office.  Hope you are enjoying your vacation, Yani -- enjoy the spa!

“I’m a little rusty,” Tiger muttered while signing a glove and leaving it near the body. He did manage to get it up and down for par, even though the volunteer cost him about a hundred yards.

Of course I’m joking, but you may have heard that Tiger is back this week. He and the 2011 Open Champion, Darren Clarke, teed it up at the WGC-Bridgestone Invitational in Ohio. Tiger is good friends with both Darren and Firestone (the golf course). He’s won here seven times, shredding the extremely tight layout and bringing it to its knees like it was one of his ex-employees.

Tiger comes here sans wife, sans Stevie, sans IMG, and sans most of the respect we had for him.

However, he has a cool pair of new shoes! Tiger’s sporting prototype footwear that was inspired by Nike’s Free line of running shoes. They have soft spikes, not metal ones like Tiger has worn his entire career. The shoes look more like something that Usain Bolt would wear, not a professional golfer. Perhaps they provide a little more movement and flexibility for his rebuilt knee and ailing Achilles. Or maybe they provide a quicker getaway when an ex-lover comes flying out of the gallery.

I expect Tiger will play well this weekend. I’m sure he is way more prepared than he is letting on. Firestone is Tiger’s Camp David and will accept him unconditionally. Check that -- conditional that he can keep it in the fairway and make a few putts. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him even make a run at the title. Regardless of his arrogant and egotistical behavior off the course, we haven’t seen the end of the Tiger era yet. And when he starts winning again, all will be forgiven and forgotten. Don’t believe me? I give you Michael Vick.

Tiger’s back and, like him or not, it’s good for our sport – just stand clear on the first few holes; he may be a little wild.

Rory Mcllroy won the US Open in June at the spry age of 22. That’s not old even old enough to rent a car. So how did Rory get to Congressional Country Club? Did his mum drop him off?

On the other hand, Darren Clarke won the British Open in July at the elderly age of 42 without the use of a golf cart or a long putter. The man played near flawless golf on the bunker-ridden links of Royal St. George’s in weather that would make Sig Hansen head for harbor. Let’s put these two mates together and figure out once and for all what goes into making a major Champion.

Major Record:
Rory: 1 for 10
Darren: 1 for 54

Height/Weight
Rory: 5’10”, 160 lbs.
Darren: 6’2” 225 lbs.

US President in Office at Birth
Rory: Ronald Reagan
Darren: Lyndon B. Johnson

Golf Idol
Rory: Tiger Woods
Darren: Jack Nicklaus

When Jack won his 18th Major (1986)
Darren: High school junior
Rory: Twinkle in his father’s eye

Breakfast
Rory: Fruity Pebbles and a glass of Sunny Delight
Darren: Bloody Mary and a Marlboro

Pre-round routine
Rory: 30 minutes of stretching, 30 minutes driving range, 30 minutes putting
Darren: 5 minutes stretching with Miguel Angel Jimenez, a trip to the can, a smoke, then out the 1st tee.

Fitness regimen
Rory: Runs three miles, weight training twice a week, and yoga in the evenings
Darren: Hot wings make little beads of sweat on his forehead

Lunch
Rory: Grilled salmon salad, iced tea
Darren: Fish and chips, Guinness

Biggest collapse
Rory: 2010 Masters, blew a 3 shot lead on Sunday shooting 80
Darren: 1996 British at Troon, after leading, shanked one early in the final round and vanished

Favorite mantra
Rory: “A champion never quits.”
Darren: “AA is for quitters.”

Snack at the turn
Rory: Banana, peanuts
Darren: Hot Dog, Snickers, Marlboro

Hobbies
Rory: Soccer, loves Manchester U.
Darren: Horse racing, once won 5 Gs on Sneaky Pete (25-1)

Dinner
Rory: Grilled chicken, mixed veggies, sparkling water
Darren: “How late does Domino’s deliver?”

Trophy Drink
Rory: Mountain Dew from The US Open Trophy.
Darren: Slammed a "Car Bomb” from The Claret Jug.

All joking aside, Rory and Darren are distinguished champions and truly great ambassadors to our game of golf. In a time when the best player continues to display tremendous egomaniacal behavior, these guys --“The Child Prodigy” and “The Wise Warrior”-- are accessible, humble, and just downright likable. Thanks for picking up the slack and making us crazy golf geeks proud.