There's something particularly vindicating about getting in early. Whether it be investing in a small business just before it comes up with its million dollar idea, loyally following a local band before they explode into that #1 hit, or in my case, supporting an underdog athlete for years before finally making his breakthrough.
While rising PGA Tour star Bubba Watson's win at last week's Farmers Insurance Open at Torrey Pines (the second win of his career) was certainly a load off his back, in a way, it kind of felt like a victory for me as well. So when this putt fell on the final hole of the tournament, my adoration for the guy who had become the lovable loser came full circle.
With that putt, the golfing world is finally wising up to something i noticed nearly four years ago: this guy can play.
Those who know me have been aware of my support for the big hitting lefty since I first saw him in the 2007 U.S. Open. As a rookie, Bubba finished tied for fifth in one of the year's toughest tournaments, and since that performance, I've followed his career round by round.
My first attraction to Bubba as a golfer was obvious. A lefty myself, I'll follow any player who hits from the "wrong side of the ball." That's why Phil Mickelson was always my favorite growing up, until Bubba came around, of course.
Second, Bubba plays a brand of golf unlike any other on Tour. The man can't define conservative and standing on any given tee, you can see him making a two or an eight. And both would be equally spectacular. Pars are a rarity for Bubba because he always goes for broke. It's exciting golf (two words rarely paired).
Last, he's a 32-year-old seven-year old. Whether he's wielding his trademark pink driver (which he regularly hits 350+ yards as the longest driver on tour) or making silly videos to post online, the guy just loves having fun. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Bubba paraded around his local golf course dressed as Santa Claus, hitting shots for the good boys and girls from Bubbaclaus.
Like he says, "I'm just goofy Bubba from Bagdad, Florida." To top it off, he personally responds to every single fan who posts on his twitter account. How can you pull against a guy like this?
In the period since I began watching Bubba, there have been many great tournaments. Tons of top 10's. A handful of second place finishes. But zero wins.
Bubba came close, to no avail, so many times that the media finally noticed the trend and began wondering if the guy could ever live up to his sky-high potential and get a PGA Tour win. As his fan, I wondered too.
Bubba's moment finally came last summer when he erased a six shot, final round deficit to win his first tournament, the Travelers, in a playoff. It was only then in a heap of tears that he revealed his father was losing a battle with cancer while his wife had just escaped a cancer scare of her own. With all that bearing down on him, Bubba, who already suffers from attention disorders, delivered his first title, for his family.
But the fact that neither Tiger Woods or Phil Mickelson played in the Travelers left Bubba's victory feeling empty, to the media at least. A second-place finish at the PGA Championship and a Ryder Cup appearance weren't even enough to open people's eyes as Bubba was left facing serious questions entering 2011. It would take beating them both while winning the tournament to show everyone he was the real deal.
And that's exactly what he did Sunday. With Tiger floundering to a 75, and Mickelson snapping at his heels the whole way, Bubba posted his breakthrough win in San Diego. And I believe there's much more to come, including victories in Majors.
The first time I saw Bubba at the '07 open, he was ranked #237 in the world. This time last year, #122. Today, Bubba is the 18th ranked golfer in the entire world. And trust me, he's nowhere near his peak yet.
Not bad for goofy Bubba from Bagdad Florida.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
The most patient man in pro sports...
Packers quarterback, and now Superbowl bound, Aaron Rodgers might just be the most patient human being on the planet, even more than my Mom. Well, maybe not. She had to put up with all my diving into the mud just to make her laundry day hell, my scraping the side of her car on the frame of the garage door, my refusal to do anything useful inside the house...
Ok, Ok, Ok... Aaron Rodgers is not as patient as my Mom (and Mom, I'm sorry I ever introduced you to my friend Tyler Davis. That was mean on my part). But he is damn patient. And... he can throw a football better than Mom ever could.
And did I mention he's patient?
After declaring for the NFL Draft following his junior year at California in 2005 (where he holds several school records that WILL NOT be touched for some while), Rodgers was a sure-fire #1 pick. He was ready to resurrect his home-state's troubled franchise, the San Francisco 49ers. And they wanted their hometown boy, Aaron Rodgers.
And on draft day 2005... with the first pick in the 2005 NFL Draft, the San Francisco 49ers select... AAAAlex Smith!
Wait, what?
With the second pick, the Miami Dolphins select... Ronnie Brown!
Really?
With the third pick, the Cleveland Browns select... Braylon Edwards!
No, Seriously?
It went on and on. Even my beloved Carolina Panthers, in 14th position, passed on the opportunity to snatch up this pick of a lifetime (we went 2-14 last year, yay). And still, we weren't the last to say we didn't want this future best quarterback in the league. There were still many more snubs.
To make it worse, Rodgers had flown cross country to New York, thinking he'd be the first name called, only to sit in the back room hour upon hour, fielding the same questions of "Are you nervous about where you'll finally get picked?" "Why don't you think you've been picked yet?"
All of the sudden, the best quarterback in college football was the smelly fat kid with glasses, waiting to get picked for dodgeball in gym class.
Credit to Aaron, he handled it like a man does. "What happens, happens. I just want to play for a team that wants me."
Bravo, young lad.
With the 24th pick, the Green Bay Packers select... Aaron Rodgers.
Eeew. I cringed, you cringed, even Aaron cringed a little, though he never showed it.
We all knew that Packers quarterback Brett Favre, probably the best the game has ever seen, would likely play until he was K.I.A. (and it's seeming more and more like that lately). So, this franchise quarterback is now looking at seeing the field as a starter in 2020?
Yet Rodgers didn't balk. He served his time behind Favre, studying, learning, absorbing...
And three years and two playoff appearances later... he's in his first Superbowl, with the NFL's highest All-Time career passer rating no less. The guy throws an interception on less than two percent of his passes. The same can't be said about his idol and predecessor, Favre, who threw nearly as many picks as he did touchdowns.
Aaron Rodgers has bided his time, now it's finally time to get what he truly deserves... besides, Big Ben and the steel curtain need to know what pain feels like because they have several more rings in them down the line.
And when Green Bay wins the Superbowl, maybe they can mold the Lombardi Trophy into a belt for Aaron Rodgers to parade around town, I'd really like to see him finally bring hardware to the celebration.
Ok, Ok, Ok... Aaron Rodgers is not as patient as my Mom (and Mom, I'm sorry I ever introduced you to my friend Tyler Davis. That was mean on my part). But he is damn patient. And... he can throw a football better than Mom ever could.
And did I mention he's patient?
After declaring for the NFL Draft following his junior year at California in 2005 (where he holds several school records that WILL NOT be touched for some while), Rodgers was a sure-fire #1 pick. He was ready to resurrect his home-state's troubled franchise, the San Francisco 49ers. And they wanted their hometown boy, Aaron Rodgers.
And on draft day 2005... with the first pick in the 2005 NFL Draft, the San Francisco 49ers select... AAAAlex Smith!
Wait, what?
With the second pick, the Miami Dolphins select... Ronnie Brown!
Really?
With the third pick, the Cleveland Browns select... Braylon Edwards!
No, Seriously?
It went on and on. Even my beloved Carolina Panthers, in 14th position, passed on the opportunity to snatch up this pick of a lifetime (we went 2-14 last year, yay). And still, we weren't the last to say we didn't want this future best quarterback in the league. There were still many more snubs.
To make it worse, Rodgers had flown cross country to New York, thinking he'd be the first name called, only to sit in the back room hour upon hour, fielding the same questions of "Are you nervous about where you'll finally get picked?" "Why don't you think you've been picked yet?"
All of the sudden, the best quarterback in college football was the smelly fat kid with glasses, waiting to get picked for dodgeball in gym class.
Credit to Aaron, he handled it like a man does. "What happens, happens. I just want to play for a team that wants me."
Bravo, young lad.
With the 24th pick, the Green Bay Packers select... Aaron Rodgers.
Eeew. I cringed, you cringed, even Aaron cringed a little, though he never showed it.
We all knew that Packers quarterback Brett Favre, probably the best the game has ever seen, would likely play until he was K.I.A. (and it's seeming more and more like that lately). So, this franchise quarterback is now looking at seeing the field as a starter in 2020?
Yet Rodgers didn't balk. He served his time behind Favre, studying, learning, absorbing...
And three years and two playoff appearances later... he's in his first Superbowl, with the NFL's highest All-Time career passer rating no less. The guy throws an interception on less than two percent of his passes. The same can't be said about his idol and predecessor, Favre, who threw nearly as many picks as he did touchdowns.
Aaron Rodgers has bided his time, now it's finally time to get what he truly deserves... besides, Big Ben and the steel curtain need to know what pain feels like because they have several more rings in them down the line.
And when Green Bay wins the Superbowl, maybe they can mold the Lombardi Trophy into a belt for Aaron Rodgers to parade around town, I'd really like to see him finally bring hardware to the celebration.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
When Coaches Go Mad
It's been five months since I began covering high school sports for a living. And since my first time on the sidelines as a professional in August, I've been waiting for one specific moment that finally came at my last game. This moment is magical, inspirational, even a little frightening.
I'm talking, of course, about when the tornado of rage that is an angry head coach fills the locker room at halftime.
A halftime outburst is a tricky thing. They're used to spark a better performance down the stretch. But if used too much, they can lose their power with the flip of a switch. Therefore, the good coaches are normally reserved to save these fits for when their team is grossly under-performing.
These things are meant to strike the fear of God into each and every player and let them know what Hell awaits them at the next practice should things not change in the second half.
Having played for a coach who was an expert on this technique in my high school days, I can confirm that a good yell at the half will most certainly make you run a little harder.
I've had my guesses about which coaches I've talked to lately have broken a chair or something to that extent at halftime, but they almost always dance around that question with an answer like "Oh, uuuuh, we just told them to keep playing hard and things would turn around."
Yeah right! You lashed out more than a hundred expletives in a 10 minute period while threatening each and every player with sprints all day, every day until they collapse.
But who could blame them for not admitting that? No one wants an angry parent hovering over them.
A coach who yells isn't necessarily a good thing, but one who does it at the right times and for the right reasons is invaluable. These people can pass on valuable lessons: heart, work ethic, character. Don't want to work? They'll make you.
The first time a coach admitted blowing up at halftime to me was after a girls basketball game in which the home team, leaders of a perennially difficult conference, trailed by 11 to the sixth placed team heading into the break. It wasn't that they were down double digits... They weren't giving the effort. They waltzed on to the court like the game was already over, in a rivalry match-up no less.
So, he laid into them at halftime. And he laid into them good. He said he will only do that twice a year, so he has to save those for when they really count.
Surprise, surprise. It worked. It was like he had physically dropped a small furnace under each one of their butts and the better team played with a little heart in the second half and turned the deficit into a six point win. A coaching masterstroke.
People might get upset claiming in high school the players are just kids and shouldn't be screamed at. While I would never condone yelling at a kid for making a simple mistake or not knowing how to handle a certain situation in a game, this was nothing of the sort.
But, if like in this game, a team just doesn't care about trying, go after 'em. And go after 'em hard. What better time to teach the values of heart and effort than when a child is approaching young adulthood.
Perhaps its why the Jets are still playing football right now. They got mad at the right time. The emotionless pit that is Bill Belichick, on the other hand, well, now he should kinda have a reason to get mad at some point.
I'm talking, of course, about when the tornado of rage that is an angry head coach fills the locker room at halftime.
A halftime outburst is a tricky thing. They're used to spark a better performance down the stretch. But if used too much, they can lose their power with the flip of a switch. Therefore, the good coaches are normally reserved to save these fits for when their team is grossly under-performing.
These things are meant to strike the fear of God into each and every player and let them know what Hell awaits them at the next practice should things not change in the second half.
Having played for a coach who was an expert on this technique in my high school days, I can confirm that a good yell at the half will most certainly make you run a little harder.
I've had my guesses about which coaches I've talked to lately have broken a chair or something to that extent at halftime, but they almost always dance around that question with an answer like "Oh, uuuuh, we just told them to keep playing hard and things would turn around."
Yeah right! You lashed out more than a hundred expletives in a 10 minute period while threatening each and every player with sprints all day, every day until they collapse.
But who could blame them for not admitting that? No one wants an angry parent hovering over them.
A coach who yells isn't necessarily a good thing, but one who does it at the right times and for the right reasons is invaluable. These people can pass on valuable lessons: heart, work ethic, character. Don't want to work? They'll make you.
The first time a coach admitted blowing up at halftime to me was after a girls basketball game in which the home team, leaders of a perennially difficult conference, trailed by 11 to the sixth placed team heading into the break. It wasn't that they were down double digits... They weren't giving the effort. They waltzed on to the court like the game was already over, in a rivalry match-up no less.
So, he laid into them at halftime. And he laid into them good. He said he will only do that twice a year, so he has to save those for when they really count.
Surprise, surprise. It worked. It was like he had physically dropped a small furnace under each one of their butts and the better team played with a little heart in the second half and turned the deficit into a six point win. A coaching masterstroke.
People might get upset claiming in high school the players are just kids and shouldn't be screamed at. While I would never condone yelling at a kid for making a simple mistake or not knowing how to handle a certain situation in a game, this was nothing of the sort.
But, if like in this game, a team just doesn't care about trying, go after 'em. And go after 'em hard. What better time to teach the values of heart and effort than when a child is approaching young adulthood.
Perhaps its why the Jets are still playing football right now. They got mad at the right time. The emotionless pit that is Bill Belichick, on the other hand, well, now he should kinda have a reason to get mad at some point.
Why the Jets are going to win the Superbowl
They. Are. Maaaaaaaaaaaad!
Just listen to Bart Scott after they overcame the #1 seeded Patriots Sunday night.
Enter the chills down your spine.
Unfortunately for me, I picked the Patriots (with the -9 point spread, no less) in my playoff pool. So now I'll have to be looking over my shoulder every time I go outside for fear of the 6-2, 242 pound linebacker coming after me too.
I'm sorry Mr. Scott. I will never do that again. Please do not show up at my door!
Just listen to Bart Scott after they overcame the #1 seeded Patriots Sunday night.
Enter the chills down your spine.
Unfortunately for me, I picked the Patriots (with the -9 point spread, no less) in my playoff pool. So now I'll have to be looking over my shoulder every time I go outside for fear of the 6-2, 242 pound linebacker coming after me too.
I'm sorry Mr. Scott. I will never do that again. Please do not show up at my door!
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