[Editors note: So I did a post on my opinions of The Masters. As you might expect Jigger has an opinion ( or two or three ) on The Masters. Only as it turns out, in this particular case, he actually speaks for all the animals in The Household, including the cat. Niblick and Jigger being on the same side of anything is rare, to say the least. So in the interest of interspecies harmony ( not to mention avoiding finding a hairball in my shoe ) here is another perspective on The Masters, by Jigger et. al..... ]
It's here again. The weekend when they all turn into total zombies. They come rushing home after work and turn the TV on and sit and watch that damn tournament, and a bomb could go off and they wouldn't hear it. Important things, like walks and FEEDING THE ANIMALS are totally forgotten. The thing is Tivo'd. You'd think they could take care of the important things, like FEEDING THE ANIMALS, and then sit down and watch. Or wait and catch up on Saturday. But no. There seems to be some rule about watching the current days round ( for the first time anyway ) before the next days round starts.
And what is the big deal about The Masters anyway? Weakest field of any major. Heck, weakest field of any tournament. Top 50 world wide. Uh huh. Based on what exactly? No Colin Montgomerie? No Davis Love III? No Chris DiMarco? They didn't qualify? But all those old guys, all those previous winners, with an average age of 70, who don't stand a snowballs chance in h**l of winning, they get to play? Yeah, that's fun to watch. You can take TRADITION too far ya know. And then all those amateurs. Nice gesture and all, but once again, not going to win, who wants to watch? Maybe 1 top amateur. But that's it. Unless you want to trade in some of the old guys on an amateur or two. And then there's the 'world' golfers. Huh. Golfers from countries with large populations with whom Augusta National has signed lucrative TV contracts you mean. Poor schmucks no one has ever heard of who, once again, stand NO chance of winning, and are only invited so that their country men will watch. Explain to me, us really, since Hersh and the pig don't get it either, how this translates into a field of competitors where any one wants to watch anything other than the top two groups?
And the course. Augusta National. Used to be approached with respect and awe. Bobby Jones was the original risk-reward golfer. Took big risks. Sometimes resulted in double bogey, more often in eagle, but the man didn't play it safe. And he designed Augusta as a risk-reward golf course. It was wide open. Very few trees. Standing on the tee box a golfer had any one of a dozen ways to get the ball to the green. He had to think. He had to strategize. He had to make choices. He had to be able to hit all kinds of shots. Fades and hooks and slices, to perfection. He had to be able to play every club in his bag. Take risks and you could win big, or lose big. But play it safe and you would almost always lose. But not any more. Trees everywhere. Narrowed fairways. You stand on the tee and you don't even have to think. There is only one way to get the ball to the green and more often than not that involves simply bombing it down the fairway. No choices, no strategy. No chance to come up big, or fail spectacularly. I mean last year Zach Johnson won without ever going for a par 5 in 2 in the final round. Totally played it safe. Unbelievable. Bobby Jones must be spinning in his grave over what they've done to his course
So you've got a mediocre at best field, where really only about 7 of them stand any chance of winning ( and this was even before Tiger came along ), and a no-skills-required golf course, and they can't even keep their sense of humor. I mean 'bikini waxed greens'? Classic line. Should've gotten McCord a permanent place in the announcer's booth. Instead, banned for life. Good Lord 'n Butter. Feherty and Faldo probably take benadryl before the broadcast to make sure none of their natural humor shows through.
So really. We don't get it. For this they turn into zombies? On Saturday there is a mad rush to get things done before the round starts, and on Sunday, forget it. Worthless all day. They forget the treats in the morning. No walks. And to top it all off they forget to FEED THE ANIMALS. We do our best. Hersh stands there and beats the side of the TV with her tail ( which is registered as a deadly weapon ). The pig whistles for all he's worth. Neighbors two doors down can hear him. Even the cat pitches in. Meows, jumps in their laps, waves his tail in their faces. Nothing. They just push him away and stare at that damn TV. Watching everything over again in slow motion. I bark at them. A lot. And get ignored. Eventually the stomachs are growling so bad I go for broke. I start on the toes. Gentle nips at first. Then biting down hard. That usually gets someones attention. Pain seems to pull them out of The Masters stupor. Good thing it's only once a year or we'd all have to find a new place to live ( with non-golfers ) or we'd starve to death.
Well gotta go. The pig has called a strategy meeting. My suggestion is I chew up the plug to the Tivo. At least that way they could only watch things once.
[Standard disclaimer: The opinions of this particular poster are his and his alone, and do not necessarily reflect those of the owner of this blog. ]
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