While Phil Mickelson probably has millions of fans, I certainly wouldn’t count myself among them.  I don’t have any particular reason why I’m not a fan – I’m just not.  Call me a front runner, or a fanboy, or what have you, but I’m very much a Tiger guy.  Like many others, I probably never would have picked up the game if Tiger hadn’t made it more interesting.   I’m also a fan of Geoff Olgilvy, Jim Furyk, and a few others, mostly though, I’m just a fan of the game, and a casual one at that.  For the most part, I’m not a PGA Tour guy.  What I mean by that is that, from week to week, I really don’t much care what happens on tour.  This new blog section is going to be used to talk about clubs, gadgets, accessories, and my own personal struggles with the game.  I’ll leave the tour stuff to the Armchair Golf Blogger, The Sandtrap, and countless others that do a much better job with it than I ever would.

That said, I do find myself a little disheartened, and feeling the need to say a little something about the “get in the water” guy from the final hole at Doral over the weekend.  Call me a snob if you will, but one of the things I love about golf is that it’s still a gentleman’s game.  You keep your own score on the honor system, you enjoy friendly conversation with your partners and opponents, and ideally you do it with dignity and class.  At the end of a round, win, lose, or just for fun, like a gentlemen you shake everyone’s hand and walk of the green.  I simply can’t fathom screaming “get in the water”, “hit in the woods”, or “shank it” on a golf course ever – regardless of whether I’m playing or watching.  So while, as I said, I’m no Mickelson fan, I find it absolutely reprehensible to cheer for failure.  Dan Hicks was absolutely right when he suggested the so-called fan should be removed from the course.  A 9-iron to the kneecaps probably isn’t a half-bad idea either.

Golf may be the last pure sport left and while I’m all for loud, cheering crowds, there’s simply no place on the golf course for that sort of no class fan.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so with acknowledgments to the irony of my own hypocrisy on the notion of class, I’ll say nothing further, and instead allow an image to convey my final thoughts about the classless loudmouth from the 18th.