Everybody has a few golfers out there that they just like for seemingly no reason. It could be because they won in your hometown, they are sponsored by your favorite brand, or because even the dress in a strange way. Much like picking favorite sports team, picking a favorite golfer doesn't have to be rational. In fact, a friend of mine from northern New Jersey is a die-hard Miami Dolphins fan. Why? Because as a kid he liked their team colors.
With parity becoming more and more prevalent in sports, stories like that (or at least the golf version, say, Ian Poulter's love of pink) are becoming more popular. Tiger and Phil haven't done as much as we were accustomed to over last few years, and their poor play has paved the way for many new faces to get time on T.V. Thanks to the PGA Tour's lenient rules that allow past greats to hang around, older guys have been able to stay on the radar.
One of the best things about the game of golf is the vast history. Golf has had transcendent athletes almost constantly over the last 150 years, and as I attempted to categorize them all I found myself writing, and writing, and writing. (I tried to do this with baseball, and all I got down was "Yankees, then… more Yankees, and a little more Yankees. And then the Red Sox won. And then the Yankees…") In classifying the history of golf, these last 50 years are where it got tough, as I had to figure out what do do with Jack Nickluas. Jack had legitimate rivals in Arnold Palmer and Tom Watson at completely different ends of his own expansive career. I ultimately decided to combine Nicklaus and Watson, and give Palmer his own era. I'm sure they won't mind.
There are two parts to me, the golf fan. The first part is the one that smirked when Zach Johnson's putt was left the entire way on the last hole at Sherwood, the part of me that jumped out of my desk chair and pumped my fist when Tiger's putt went in. That's the part of me that live chatted 2011's Masters, begging Tiger's eagle put on the 15th at the Masters to go in. The part of me that watched the entire Monday playoff in the 2008 U.S. Open, watched his chip on 16th at the 2005 Masters roll and roll and roll… and then fall. That's the part of me that hazily remembers the 1997 Masters. I call that part of me "Optimist." Otherwise known as "Irrational."
