Our friends across the pond...


What is the biggest prize in sport? The way I see it, there is no greater prize than the Town Hall Clock. Every ‘friendly’ match you play in golf always results in someone saying “ It doesn’t matter - we’re not playing for the Town Hall Clock are we?”. Well, just for once I’d like to play for it. It’s time we clubbed together and bought the thing, just so that one or two of us can actually say we’ve already won it, and once a year we should organise a competition where we all get the chance to play for it. It could become bigger than the Masters. Many would argue that The Open is the biggest prize in golf. The very fact that it is called simply ‘The Open’ and not ‘The British Open’ elevates its status and winds the Yanks up no end. Our chubby friends in the land of the free and home of the brave have to make do with naming their version ‘The United States poor attempt at emulating the kudos of the Open that the Brits own the rights to, and organise so well’. This is of course, abbreviated to the US Open. As you are no doubt aware, the naming rights of The Open are down to the fact that we held the very first competition here on these isles. I am fairly sure though, that it does not necessarily follow that we need to add a ‘British’ prefix to any thing we may want to copy that the Americans invented, such as ‘British’ Friendly Fire, ‘British’ obesity, and the most stupid creation of all, ‘British’ Gridiron. I will not go into the arguments regarding TransAtlantic variations in Football, other than to remind you that they choose to throw and run with the ball – I rest my case. Have you also noticed that World No1 (And US citizen) Tiger Woods has been photographed and filmed quite a lot recently, engaging in the act of spitting on the fairways? I don’t know about you, but I find this extremely poor coming from a man at the top of his profession. Sergio Garcia was reprimanded recently after he holed his putt, retrieved his ball, then let an eight inch string of snot and spit dangle from his mouth and drop off straight into the centre of the hole, before replacing the flag and marking his card. That folks, is how a proper pro does it. Tiger take note. Of course, poor Sergio has been accused of bad taste. Personally, I reckon bad taste is organising a coach tour for Tourettes sufferers to the Vatican.

American golf has, of course, given us the odd hero. Take John Daly - Which of us wouldn’t want to be like him? (Well, apart from the excess weight, divorce lawsuits, gambling addiction and horrific mullet.) Nothing but golf and beer – what a life. It would be just like 52 Magaluf trips a year.

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