Tron and I are going to team up for some notes/thoughts on the Phoenix Open this week.
For me, the Phoenix Open marks the true start of the golf season. The reach-around portion obviously doesn’t count, Hawaii is a complete novelty, and Torrey consistently underwhelms on style and substance. The energy around TPC Scottsdale combined with the liveliness of the broadcast (McCord, who I really like, is in full weirdo-mode) captures my attention and reminds me why I love watching golf. This year is special too for another reason–it marks the ten-year anniversary of my trip to the desert (making me feel exceptionally old).
A decade ago Tron and I were rolling into Phoenix off a near two-month bender in Colorado. We had technically dropped out of school (Tron maybe more so “technically” than me–I was a couple credits short of graduating, he was like a year-and-a-half short LOL). We drove down through the nether regions of Utah, braved blizzard-like conditions in Flagstaff, and finally found warm weather and a great time in Scottsdale.
Rare are the opportunities to experience a sporting event like the Phoenix Open where on the one hand I ‘knew’ quite a bit about it, but on the other really knew nothing at all. The most similar event I can compare it to is the Kentucky Derby. Everyone can watch the Derby and see the pageantry, horses, fancy dresses and stupid hats. What you have to go and experience for yourself is the third turn of the infield. It’s incredible. The full spectrum of public drunkenness and indecency. The horses are an afterthought, paid no mind except for maybe how the numbers stack up on your betting slip.
Well in much the same way that’s what awaits you in Phoenix. It looks and feels like a gigantic party on television, and unequivocally, it’s more so than you think on the ground. Again, full range of public drunkenness, though unfortunately a bit less indecency (although, Jesus, I can’t image what the Arizona St. coeds are or are not wearing these days). And like the Derby, many (most?) people couldn’t give less of a shit about the golf. It’s raucous, it’s profane, it’s scenic. It’s fun.
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Anyway, mostly owing to our depleted bank accounts, Tron and I started each morning of the 2007 Phoenix Open with a bottle of the cheapest wine we could find (Tron’s penchant for the finer things probably steered us away from Forties). We swung by Trader Joe’s and scooped up some Two Buck Chuck on the way to the course. Of course we weren’t the only people tailgating, so while we spent some time in our car listening to God-knows-what (a lot of Jeezy probably), we also found a ton of fascinating people to chat up in the parking lot. And as far as vibes go, it doesn’t get much better than the tournament parking lot (will just leave that there).
Tron, vibing.
Honest to God, one of the things that has stayed with me about the tournament is the exceptional logistics of getting people both in and out of the parking lot, as well as from their cars to the course. It’s like the world’s biggest lot, and they run this never-ending string of coach buses from the lot to the course in a way that outclasses every other tournament I’ve been to. Very professional.
The tickets are obviously plentiful and not really all that expensive. One of the days they were running a special where kids got in free with a ticketed adult or something and Tron and I took advantage as a Father/Son combo (I’m 6’7″ so it’s easier to get away with stuff like that). I could go on forever about our actual experiences inside the tournament that week, but in the interest of time and space, I’ll only bore you with a few of my favorites:
TBird Illuminati Faction
*The Thunderbirds, the civic organization which essentially puts on the tournament, have an exceedingly chill air about them. Carefree and accommodating, you know they can’t take themselves too seriously based on the plush purple-velvet tops and ostentatious chains hanging from their necks. It’s a mega-intriguing group, and one of the most interesting aspects of the tournament which escapes a lot of public attention. A goal of mine for NLU is trying to dig a bit deeper there and see if we can chat with anybody about the tournament through the years.
*At one point I was pretty-crossed up about where the nearest toilet was and lo and behold Jimmy Roberts rolled by on his media golf cart. I asked him where the john was, and he actually was helpful in pointing it out, though when I asked for a ride he laughed a bit uncomfortably and drove away. I wasn’t laughing, Jimmy.
*Thursday morning we started our voyage around TPC Scottsdale following Pat Perez, Tom Pernice Jr. and whoever else. Double P was obviously the draw for us, but Pernice ended up being the treat. He had this rabid, middle-aged Asian guy following him who could not help but talking him up to Tron and me at every opportunity. He cared more about Pernice’s shot-making that day than anybody’s ever cared about anything. TP would lag a putt or lay up and he’d go nuts, offering up a “Thattaway Tommy!” before turning to us and saying “Man, Tommy’s just playing so well right now.” When we pressed him for the connection he just said he’d always been a fan. Think some kid of Rob Schneider-esque character. So bizarre.
* I’m afraid with each passing year the 16th loses a bit of its original charm and appeal (and, yes, I realize people no doubt thought that when I was there in 2007). Anyway, back then it was corporate grandstands around the back ring of the teebox area and then down the right and left sides a bit. The left side had a huge public bleacher area, and beyond the green was just an open area for people to congregate and mill about.
Looking down toward the green from the bleachers in 2007.
* The most frequent chant most every day was that of “Corporate sucks!” Fairly regularly, especially during lulls in action, people would just start chanting “Corporate sucks” to everyone and no one in particular in the corporate boxes. It was delightfully stupid. It also captures my feelings as the corporate box creep has enclosed the hole through the years. There are still public bleachers, but I hate that the hole is entirely enclosed with mostly boxes by the green. The little hill by the green was a great place to hang out, people watch, and take in the atmosphere. For shame. The 16th felt organic, and I can’t shake an artificial vibe now when I watch.
*There was this guy posted near the top of the bleachers on 16 putting everybody he could on blast. One poor fella, a UTEP fan, got detonated. Complete takedown. Chastised him for many things, but most notably for not repping UTEP hard enough. “If you’re going to rep UTEP, you better rep them HARD.” I still don’t really know what that means, but I can see the poor guy’s reaction. It was a mix between embarrassment, bewilderment, and sorrow. The entire time sitting on 16 people are constantly yelling at somebody or something. Usually the players, sometimes the caddies, and even a standard bearer or rules official. Most of it was really stupid stuff which no doubt seemed way funnier due to our BAC. And you know what? It was perfect.
*The reception around the course, but especially at 16, for ASU guys is impressive. Mickelson walking into the thunderdome gave me chills. He’s a goddamn conquering hero there. Billy Mayfair, Jeff Quinney, DubP all played the part. I expect Jon Rahm to get the second loudest welcome this week.
*I’ll end with reiterating how much fun going to the tournament was. And I admit, we didn’t even do it half-right (eg., we hardly experienced the Birds Nest). Every year comes and goes and I tell myself I have to get back there. Hopefully that happens sooner than later. If you like golf, like to have a good time, and especially if you’re looking to escape the winter weather in most of the country, get a group of your best friends together and head West. You will not be disappointed.
Hello Friends
5am at NLU’s New England Bureau and I’m too tired to be cranky, which is an amazing place to be, especially considering I just watched Poulter shoot 67. Thank God for Euro Tour coverage (which is so classy, by the way) and Netflix (deep into House of Cards). The Euro desert swing has me researching desalination costs and other prescient concerns for building a golf course in the desert – too deep down the wormhole.
This was our first night home with the little man since he was born, definitely missing the nursery at the hospital! I’m already sitting here getting blasted by pleas to call the Addiction Network (not surprising that they advertise during Euro coverage – target market is people like Sarson and I, addicted to Sergio lag). Pretty soon my wife is going to be asking me what a Microtouch Precision Trimmer is and why it’s on our AMEX, or why we’re donating significant sums to the Native American Rights Fund.
RIP Cat (needed to get that out of the way, biggest question at this