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PGA Championship 2015 at Whistling Straits - Majorly unfair

7/30/2015

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Golf is not a fair game. Jordan Spieth doesn’t play fair. Dustin Johnson must think life is unfair. The PGA Championship is unfair to teaching pros. So it’s only fair fans watch this major, see how all this unfairness plays out.

Pete Dye, who designed Whistling Straits, the venue for this last major of the year, “Glory’s Last Shot”, said Golf is not a fair game...More on his DYEABOLICAL doings, shortly. Jordan Spieth doesn’t play fair, having an all-round great game, being humble in major victories and honorable in defeat - as witnessed by his homage for Zack Johnson’s 2015 Open win. Dustin Johnson, who out drove Spieth some 40 to 50 yards off the tees in the first two rounds when they played together at the Open, splitting – in Jordan’s words – “...bunkers at about 380 yards...”, led the field – but he blew himself up ballooning to 75, 75 in rounds 3 and 4. And, don’t forget, the always-a-bridesmaid Johnson was a sore loser no show at the presentation ceremony after Spieth topped him in the US Open. Johnson’s a disgruntled bomber, a wanna be, who can’t hit the bull’s-eye. (Even more unfair: his father-in-law is ultra winner and ultimate-hockey superstar Wayne Gretzky.)

And the PGA Championship is unfair to teaching professionals because their games are tested against touring pros, though the formers’ games are rusty, spending their time instructing, not practicing or playing for real – save for their vying in the PGA Professional National Championship for one of the 20 spots at Whistling Straits. But they deserve this major, and its recognition of their teaching of us duffers to not fluff and muff shots – is only fair, totally fair. And they are jubilant to play in it, no doubt about it.

Now, what of this unfair course? It’s a links course, said to be the 6th toughest course in America. Unfairly for members – it’s a walking route. No carts. Dye took what was Camp Haven – a military training base – flat enough for aircraft landings and made the terrain into a ferocious facsimile of Ireland’s south west coast, Ballybunion-like of ridge, crest and crevice. DYEABOLICAL is the name for the 18th...DYE also said:”...why build a course fair.”

The course looks, gnarly, rigid, tough, wind-swept rough. Rustic, in parts bucolic, it’s stone capped off by a straight-angled club house that looks like a well maintained farm-abode domicile of days, ages, past.

Crooked concrete paths circumvent cluttered together bunkers, coasting Lake Michigan, while jagged rocks, un-trapped sand, and yellow tufts of grasses surround. Pock-marked swales and dunes make great scenery, but have to scare the willies out of all but the professionals. Eight holes are by the great lake. Hole eleven, for Pete’s sake, has a twelve foot deep bunker! Sheep, real live ones with ringing bells on their heads, may disrupt your game on the green at 14, for example. The fog off the lake can be lower than your tee off shot...Green fees are a STEEP $360 but that includes gratuities for your caddy, plus their basic fees...The “wave” from fans in grandstands will match those of Lake Michigan on a windy day...

So Jordan, Dustin, Zack (and Rory, if he’s recovered from his left ankle ligament rupture – and that’s looking iffy) will get the last crack and whack at this course and the Wanamaker Trophy, itself named after department store owner Rodman Wanamaker. (In 1916 he and a bunch of golfing pros met at the Wykagyl Country Club in New Rochelle and hatched the PGA.) Since then the PGA has come a long way. “Other than the U.S. Open, this is the largest annual temporary construction project for a sporting event in the country...” These grand old courses of yore weren’t met for us some 250,000 souls – traipsing the grounds for 4 days.

What makes this major so endearing? It has the shooting stars, of course, but it has, at its root and core of the sport, the unsung teaching pros, whose efforts go largely unheralded - showcased.  Generally, not a one of us would have a clue unless they tutored us individually, as to who these tutoring professionals are, or their stories. 

Even though their instructional insights and talents are god-like, these guys are human: they want to shine under the glare of the sun - and the spotlight of world publicity – at least for this tournament. For a week, like their brethren on the tour, they’ll sweat, praying their playing, forms can last. Many haven’t played a lot of tournament golf, while careering as club pros, so stress skyrockets. Nothing, however, beats the high of qualifying for these guys – and it’s so satisfying to watch one or two get their fifteen minutes of fame...

Some feel the PGA Championship is the sorry sister, the cousin you didn’t want to kiss, of the majors - because at times, relative unknowns like Yang Yong-eun or Mark Brooks, have won. That’s an unfair cheap shot. Short answer?

So what?

It speaks to the uniqueness, capriciousness, and vagaries of elite, competitive sport, rather than to any shortcomings of the tournament, that accounts for this. Every sport has upsets and if the PGA has had its share, let’s deal with it. (Besides, any tournament that John Daly wins has got to be a delicious, long-ball for all.)

Ultimately, just remember, outside of the fairness or unfairness of the participants, their predicaments, or the place, the motto of the PGA Championship is: “This is major.”

Fair enough.

 

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Is Tony Horton's 10 Minute Trainer for You?

7/24/2015

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Can someone get fit training for a measly 10 minutes a day? Anybody can walk, talk, squawk for 10 minutes a day, but can we really shape up in this short span?

You bet, according to Tony Horton.

Who the heck is Horton? Let’s do what, first. Tony Horton is funny and witty. Who is he? A motivator. He shows and tells - engages - us to get us off our butts – and move.  He has laid out words and ways - commercially, definitively, and conclusively - according to he - that says we can be who we want to see, unconditionally. Quickly.

Let’s bask in brevity, crack open the case, and see what exactly is this 10 minute method’s reasoning and rationale.

The ultimate feature is low level of time commitment: you don’t have to marry exercise for an hour+ each day; you can intensely reach the fruits of your labor with an - ahem, wham bam thank you ma’am, Horton-hard 10 minute session.

And if someone does not have 10 minutes a day to put aside for easy or extreme physical exercise, give up now. Continue discovering the looming and lasting laggard within, instead.   Tony, however, with his “infotainment” style and sense, would never say this. But he will say: GET A HEART MONITOR if you wish to train! And “step away from the scale.” And “sleeping is healing.”

So, the 10-Minute Trainer is our starting point. As shown on the Dr. Oz show, Tony points out that beginners can (and should) simplify the moves, which are an intense blend of cardio, strength, and flexibility training - to their present lot in life. As they get fit, they can do the routine the way Tony does.

Super stacking. This is the term describing Tony Horton’s methods.  That and muscle confusion. It’s a blend of that cardio with resistance exercises which will tone up those muscles and trim down that weight. There is a meal guide, an exercise calendar, and the “gym” set of resistance bands. Well they, and 10 minutes, sound pretty portable. Maybe this 10 minute program can be done whilst on the road for work or play. (And if you stop at a 7-Eleven on your way to work or play, you’ll see that Tony Horton has partnered with them to offer “...fresh and healthy sandwiches...” Horton emphasizes: “It’s about the food.” He also talks of Shakeology, but that’s a topic for another day...)

You know what - starting out with 10 minutes of exercise sounds ideal for the beginner, or for that someone who wants to re-stick their big toe into the pool of fitness and fat loss. If one doesn’t over do the exercises in that allotted time span, injury should be kept at bay. Because we all know: injury kills that dedication to changing one’s physical appearance and habits.

Tony Horton is not some fly-by-night-good-time-Charlie out to make a fast buck from a fast workout. He’s been at this for some 25 years. He comes by his conclusions, distilled to this 10 minute essence (plus a warm up and cool down), through a thorough brew-mixture of personal training, combining the above mentioned cardio, strength, and flexibility - with speed, and balance.

And read, and heed, this: Tony’s big on FLEXIBILITY.

To achieve all-round fitness we should know, inherently, that a combination of movements, hitting all facets of physical conditioning, is necessary. Otherwise, you end up like the strange guy with 26” biceps and a 20” waist - too much of the original body beautiful, Venice Beach, California ideal.

Tony Horton favors the benefits from cross training and interval training. For a while he was a fitness trainer to big-time stars like Billy Idol. It would seem highly unlikely that sneering, snarling Billy would spend more than a nano-second with someone who did not know what they were talking about. Plyometrics (jumping around) and yoga found their way into the conditioning cauldron and culminated in P90X. Heard of it? No matter, let’s stay on track with the 10-minute workout…

One of his official beachbody.com videos describes the 10-minute trainer as taking someone from “unfit to unbelievable” with “extreme results in record time.” Real men and women either declare they lost “x” pounds or “y” inches off their waist. What they don’t mention, at least on this video, is the length of time it took, but the before-and-after pictures startle. Professional models also appear, affirming that the 10-minute trainer is perfect for “long and lean” results, adding if you don’t want to “bulk up” this is the routine,

with its synergistic series of upper, lower, abs, and cardio-centered movements done concurrently, not sequentially,

for you...

It advertises itself as fast and intense and the movements certainly look robust. (Dr. Oz worked up a sweat, and he’s in pretty good shape, himself!) To that end - remember - don’t get fooled by the short time frame and start wheeling and dealing at full level in an effort to copy those on the video. You’ll blow a few gaskets to be sure if your muscles have been mummified for a while. Throw your ego out the window and go slow and easy, consult your doctor, and maybe if done at your level, gradually working up in speed and range of motion, then for you too, the 10-minute trainer could be what the doctor ordered.

And, as a happy by-product bonus, your brain will benefit too!

 

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Sports Stars as A-Holes!

7/16/2015

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Could Usain Bolt suffer from the “Asshole Effect?” Could Michael Jordan? Johnny Manziel? What is the Asshole Effect? It’s a term coined by Paul Piff. He’s an Assistant Professor of Psychology at the University of California. Basically, he says wealthier people feel - and act - more deserving. Increased income increases narcissism.

And truly, often, wondrous successes bring wretched excesses.  

Usain Bolt, the fastest man in the world coming or going, fits because, according to his neighbor, Jodi Stewart-Henriques, he’s a party clown, whose house parties in the Norbrook housing Complex of Kingston, Jamaica, are LOUD. He’s the “neighbor from hell.” Michael Jordan fits because he’s been said to have a retinue of hangers on - up to posse of ten - cheer his way around the golf course. But none of these sycophants or Jordan, according to an unnamed source, apparently have the strength or sense to pick up his half-smoked cigar butts. Johnny Manziel? Well, he let down the whole Cleveland Browns organization (and the city) with his selfish, unprofessional ways. “Johnny Football” won’t be flashing the “money sign” this season and his fame will soon be mist if his character stays amiss.

Now, there may be more factors than just being a world-class jerk to explain why Jordan, for example, needs a posse. Some people can’t stand the thought of being alone. Some, therefore, hire friends to kill those silent moments - moments that could lead to reflection, if one wasn’t careful. It’s understandable that some sports icons might need a bodyguard or two: there are a lot of idiot “fans” just spoiling to pick on the champ, either vocally or physically. But usually, you gotta figure, having a group of gaga ooh-aah-hoorah goombahs always at your side may stem more from insecurity than a lack of security.

Let’s all remember: just because a sport star is great doesn’t mean he’s good. (And if one doesn’t have command of any commandments, why not just learn to be decent?)

To be fair, some sports icons that burn both ends of the candle may need to party hearty because they’re afraid to spend time alone. Fair enough. Party as long as you want to your heart’s content, or until your heart’s spent - that doesn’t make you an asshole. What does, is when your goings on disrupt the peaceful enjoyment of others. It’s OK to be insecure and afraid. It’s not OK to be a dork and a boob.

Now, are there any factors that could account for the Asshole Effect? Possibly. Many sports heroes, blessed with talent, usually brought to the fore by a combination of genetics, hard work, timing, and luck are feted by followers and fans. They are spoiled, and excused from facing consequences of outrageous acts. They’re given a pass for behaviors that the common, unknown, person would never be forgiven for.

It’s no small wonder that if one lives in such a protective cocoon, they’d feel entitled to do as they jolly well please, because they are “special.” One would hope, however, with insight and age, would come perspective and wisdom.

To see the light.

To realize what is going on.

To change and grow up.

Most of us mature, starting in our late teens. But some superstars have been sealed from having to deal with their egregious actions since high school. In college their morals and standards are on cruise control - abetted by university administrators. (At the University of North Carolina, for 18 years, athletes and officials scammed the system with fake “paper classes.”)

By the time, therefore, many wunderkinds step into the elite dominions of their craft - the world they have inhabited has been one big “I, see me be” orgy oyster. It is only when they retire - and the money dwindles and fame dims - that they then have to come to terms with who they are, who they have been, and who they want to become.

Just because you are a robust partier, doesn’t necessarily make you an asshole. There are perfectly understandable reasons to go off the deep end. Firstly, we are human. Sports stars are almost human. And humans do crazy things. Secondly, we may paint the town red to blow off steam. It doesn’t mean we are degenerate carousers and carolers. Or we may whoop and holler to celebrate a great achievement or a grievous loss. No problems there. (Disappointingly, however, sports stars too often succumb to selfishness when partying like we mere mortals succumb to gravity.)

Or we may be a little weak in the discipline department, vis-à-vis the hootenanny, and are, thus, susceptible to the crummy influences of enablers.

Big problems there.

(Some feel Johnny Manziel’s girlfriend, Colleen Crowley, is a bad influence on him. Here he is, just out of rehab, and she’s partying with friends like there’s no tomorrow.)

But, again, no matter what the situation or circumstances, having consideration for others, not in your bubble of booze and bong hits, separates the decent from the decadent - and the Asshole Effect.

Now for the A-holes, those incredibly wealthy and boorish jocks, instead of partying around the clock, half cocked, why not go to a place where extreme partying is a way of life, and the walk of the walk: the
Monaco Grand Prix?

Of course, and this is offered partly in jest, athletes who do incredibly stupid things and live numbingly dumb lives having pissed off innocents with their rude, crude and lewd ways - at least have (let’s hope) the excuses of being possibly drunk or stoned.

But what excuses can be provided to general managers who besmirch their organizations in inking deals with bad actors like cocaine hooverer (and pitcher) Steve Howe or dog-destroyer (and thrower) Michael Vick? The GMs, presumably, were stone cold sober while doing so...How do we account for their inexplicable, unforgiveable actions? Huh? How?

A subject for another day...

 

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Our Dreams delight - and daunt - us!

7/11/2015

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Do dreams have significance? Or are they just a way to pass the time while sleeping? Lately I have been working in a garden nursery, dealing with shrubs and trees, so a lot of my dreams deal with signs and customer requests. Are these vignettes a validation of what I am doing?

Have you ever had dreams where you are trying to escape from bad guys, but can never quite get away? Those dreams, and others of their ilk, leave me – not refreshed but exhausted when I wake up – but glad I woke up, I certainly am.

Or have you ever had dreams where you can fly? I have asked others if they have, and my informal survey shows that many haven’t. I get flying dreams about once a month – and have had such dreams for the past few years.

In the very first time my flying dream had me soaring, shooting really, out of the earth’s orbit into planetary space. I remember being scared out of my mind and since then, to my eternal regret, I have been unable to fly higher than a couple of hundred feet. Somehow my dreams of flight have compensated and adjusted for my feelings of fear. What a bummer, in this instance. Generally speaking, however, my dreams of flight are wonderful, whether I fly feet first like a luge racer, or hands first like Superman, but I have noticed that whenever I am flying, the people below hardly care a whit, or don’t notice at all. My magical feat is wasted on them. Perhaps this is a way for my dreams to not give me a swelled head of other-earthly accomplishment. But nobody else flies in my dreams, so that has to count for something. I hate it, however, when power lines interfere with my flights. Sometimes they do – and that can be nerve racking. They prevent one from getting a good lift off – and that is frustrating. I am not sure what this impediment means...

I think I dream in color – but can’t say yes or no, for sure. I have had dreams where people from my past who have passed away, like my parents, have appeared – and they have talked. I don’t think they’ve appeared together much, maybe once or twice. Not sure what that signifies either. I think I have had nights of many dreams. Sometimes I wake up, regenerated. Sometimes I wake up relieved to be out of the dream and glad to be alive. Somebody once told me that a dream – which sometimes seems to go on for hours – takes but seconds from start to end. That is incredible, if true. (In fact, dreams can last as long as approximately 30 minutes. And we can dream four to six times per night.) Sometimes, when I am fit and not fat – I have been both a few times - I’m braver (and yes, more aggressive) towards enemies or foes. So real life physical conditioning would seem to be reflected in my dreams, right?

I think my dreams match my current age. I think I might have died in a couple of dreams, have been terrified in many, and some are just scrambled eggs – indecipherable and unremarkable. And I think, warts and all, I am me in my dreams. I don’t seem any more courageous as a whole (other than when I am in tip-top shape) nor do I seem wimpier, more reasoned, racist, what have you.

Admittedly, and I don’t know whether I should be ashamed of this or not, my dreams revolve around me – and not the issues of the day, like ISIS terrorism or the possible exit of Greece from the Euro zone. I have never saved the day, never solved world problems. But that may be a plus – I don’t have delusions of grandeur played out while snoozing...except sometimes I can dunk a basketball in a dream. I love that feeling. At five feet five inches, I can well, only dream of dunking - in my dreams!

I suppose a little research into dreams, is in order, huh? Let’s see what we can find out...

Sigmund Freud believed all dreams were sexual in nature. Mine sure aren’t. Of if they are – I have no idea how they relate to the sexual world. Some are, sure, but they seem to be the exception, rather than the rule.  And sometimes I get the object of my affections, but just as often I don’t – which would mirror real life...

Carl Jung figured dreams were a way in which in our subconscious tried to work out problems of life. This makes more sense to me, based on my dreams, but if that is true, I have to say I am missing the point(s) in relating this dream or that, to my real-life problems – most of the time. So maybe I am flunking out in dreams like I sometimes do in conscious life.

Did you know there is a Dream Dictionary? It contains words and symbols from A to Z, with each item carrying some pretty significant meanings. The web site stresses, however, that only each person can analyze their dreams most accurately. Other specialists, though, are dubious as to drawing direct relationships between symbols and meaning(s). Dreams and dream analyses – are a mixed bag, in other words.

Should we worry about our dreams, their content, and frequency? Should we have them analyzed to the nines? I think not. We have our day-to-day faults to parse, should we wish.  All of us, I suspect, have enough material there to keep a shrink on easy street for years.

Let us leave our dreams - these night time movies - as something to wonder about, with casual curiosity. Let us peruse and poke and prod these pics for fun and fancy - let us treat ‘em with kid gloves – when push comes to shove...

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Can Spieth win The Open 2015?

7/3/2015

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What a date! The Open with its traditions faces Jordan Spieth with his expectations. The nest and nook of the niblick, the one true test of the best, the home of golf, St. Andrews, will venue the 2015 British Open and, originally this writer thought that the teeny-bopper heart throb, the popular Rickie Fowler, would vanquish the opposition – but he bombed out of the US Open, opening with an 81, leaving us with Jordan Spieth closing as that major’s champion.

Heard of Spieth?

Even dead folks like Gene Sarazen, he of the 1920’s, now have. Spieth, in winning the Masters and the US Open, is the youngest to win multiple majors since Sarazen, vaulting him ahead of Jack, Tiger, and Rory in that category.

Now THAT’s an incredible story.

So, despite Rickie shooting six under in the last six holes of the 2015 Players tournament, forcing a playoff with Sergio Garcia and Kevin Kisner, wherein he won, on the famed-island-green 17th hole – to win a tournament deemed as the 5th major, owing to its biggest buck purse – 1.8 million to the victor and its 50 top players often in play, and despite Rickie, in the 2014 official four majors finishing in the top five, putting him in a class with Tiger and the Golden Bear - Spieth just won on a links course, Chambers Bay, and has played St. Andrews before. He’s gotta be favored.

 In the interview tent after his historic US Open win, he would not divulge his secrets to his jaw-dropping successes, but he answered all other questions thrown his way completely and thoughtfully, stating that he feels he’s proven he can play a British-style golf course (notwithstanding he’s ranked 80th in PGA driving accuracy!)

Jordan, therefore, will have the whole world watching his maybe-march to golf ultra immortality with The Open, in quest of the Claret Jug. But let’s consider the field, starting with our fallen Fowler.

Rickie can handle adversity. Remember how, even before the Players had started, he had to persevere and fight off a huge case of indigestion and heartburn, hearing how his also ran fellow tour voter-players, cast punch-to-the-gut ballots, voting him, along with Ian Poulter, as the most overrated players on the tour? He can get off the mat and bounce back from his US Open early round knockout...

2014 British Open winner and 2015 number one ranked player, Rory McIlroy and possibly Phil, the 2013 victor, can most definitely contend. And Rickie, unlike Jordan, knows St. Andrews competitively and won’t have all the pressure on him. In 2010 Rickie tied for 14th, finishing with a killer round of 67.

Rory knows it too. In 2010 - the guy who hit the ball very well at this 2015 US Open - tied for 3rd - so let’s not wreath the garland of ungodly golfing greatness around Texas’s Spieth quite yet. Moreover, in playing the John Deere Classic right before the Open, some feel this will take away from Jordan’s preparation and time-acclimatization for this year’s 3rd Major...

No matter who eventually wins, this tournament, dripping dreamily and dramatically of heralded history, will, this year, feature a memory in majesty with England’s Sir Nick Faldo and America’s Tom Watson, the latter, winner of this tournament on FIVE different courses, happily – and sadly – playing their last British Opens.  

For these regal heroes, Faldo and Watson, and new boyos Fowler, Spieth, and McIlroy – they’ll all be newly thronged to a record breaking grandstand show, featuring nearly 10,000 fans who’ll wonder how these golfing greats land superb (and shoddy) shots at the 1st, 17th and 18th holes.  

And in playing the course all competitors will fight each other, his own demons, and Scotland’s Mother Nature which could feature wind, rain, chill, cold, sun – FUN – over the four rounds!?

It’s a pickle. Traversing the dunes, while hoping to avoid pot-bunkers, reading double-breaking putts, or stroking long ways-a-way putts of nearly 100 yards on one of the seven double greens, while being transfixed by the North Sea and fixated by the over 600-year history surrounding this golf gambit – this “Holy Grail” - will test the mental and physical capabilities and capacities of the competitors like no other major. One must put aside the historical features and facts of this competition, if he, matter of factly, wants to win here and NOW.  

 Specifically, watch out for the infamous Road Hole 17th – quite possibly the toughest par 4 anywhere, where, for example, the 2010 Open had it administer 68 double bogeys and allow only 16 birdies. It’s not pretty to play and certainly not a pretty view from tee, having to drive the ball over an old railway shed. And whether the pros hit left or right - all will pray on their second shot, that it doesn’t land in the HELLISH, nasty, Road Hole Bunker in front of the green. Dreams die here, a terrific tournament can tank...

Speaking of tanking we must talk briefly of Tiger, whose game is in the metaphorical woods. It’s rough. He got blown away at Chambers Bay, didn’t do anything well, except slice his drives – and that awful feature is, as hackers and pros know, a death sentence. But for history buffs, they’ll tell you Tiger won here, by eight shots, when he was 24, in 2000. He didn’t hit into any of the 112 sand traps, not once! And he won again here in 2005. Oh, to be 24 again...His chances this year: say 1 in 24...and that’s being extremely charitable.

Ultimately, The  Open, played in the Kingdom of Fife, between the Firth of Tay and the Firth of Forth, gives us this St. Andrews, the course where Spieth, McIlroy, Fowler, or even aging (now 45) Mickelson, will bring fourth, let’s hope their best shows of golf yet, for the fans to see - ever played - from tee to fairway to green - and to those pot bunkers in between.

 

 

 

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