By Woody Hemphill After the Super Bowl left me feeling like a used cadaver after an autopsy, and my March Madness bracket failed to renew my faith in performance, and/or prognostication, I resigned myself to watching the back nine holes of the Master’s Tournament on Sunday. All I’d heard beforehand was how the azaleas had already peaked, which meant that this year our usual contribution to the colder locations of the world would not include vibrant pink azaleas and white dogwoods set against lush green comprising the finest golf course in the world. A lesser man may have blamed climate change, the liberal agenda, or that orange dude that won four years of government housing back in November… Undeterred despite these matters, there had to be a reason to tune-in other than the vegetation. Now friends, this is where I have to clue you in on a little secret. You see, if anyone from anyplace else on Earth ever utters a derogatory syllable about the course conditions at the Augusta National, they automatically lose favor with the galleries (where locals find themselves less and less often these days). This is an act of treason, and the offender must be punished – severely. To a resident of Augusta, speaking ill of the course is blasphemy. The course is comprised of elements that are designed to be challenging. It’s like going to Lambeau Field and complaining about the cold, or those baseball purists who don’t allow the greatest baseball players to ever live in the Hall of Fame because they were assholes. Even when you have a point, the argument lacks perspective. Nevertheless, what I witnessed was like watching Charlie Brown making contact with the football, despite Lucy Van Pelt’s best efforts to deny him. I recalled the flickers of brilliance, coupled with epic meltdowns and years of unrealized potential that culminated within one golfer – Sergio Garcia. The passing of a generation consisted of years of countless choking in golf’s biggest moments, each year followed by the next, as he never lived up to his potential. Prior to this year’s event on golf’s greatest stage, his accomplishments were more akin to ‘The Boy Who Cried Wolf’ than the man who would eventually be slipping on the green jacket on Sunday afternoon. As I switched the television off at the end of the presentation, I began to contemplate what just took place. Sometimes, we all have to hear how we aren’t good enough, or how we just don’t measure up to the public perception of our aspirations. Sometimes, the spectacle of the moment is too bright. Each of us is surrounded by judgement, ours and others alike, that cause us to rise above the chatter – or give in to the noise around us. As a man who’s been burned by conventional wisdom from time to time, I’d be the first to attest to the virtues of blazing one’s own path in life. After all, if the ending was obvious in all instances, then sports would be meaningless and Hollywood would have no purpose. Rather than make another tired sports analogy, it’s nice to bear witness to a simple human interest story that reminds us the process of learning how to win can take an inordinate amount of time, and that being universally dismissed as a contender can lead to an incredible upswing in performance. Then again, there’s that whole line about “behind every great man is a great woman.” Did you see his fiancé? Let’s hope she has lots of sisters… Until next time, play nice - and may all your teams win! 1513 Butler �� Tybee Island, GA 100% PURE FUN! ���������������������������������������������������������������������������� ���������������������������������������������������������������������� Happy Hour Monday - Friday 4pm - 7pm Karaoke Thursday 7pm Live Band Friday & Saturday 9pm - ??? 12 HD TV’s - Video Games - Keno 912-786-4444 TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | MAY 2017 7 SINCE 1971 FOOD & DRINK Bar & Grill Daily Lunch Specials!
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