Freddy's Fairway Thoughts

Which major sport has the least problems?

You know the answer: golf. So let’s review the sports and make our case…

Baseball?

No. TV ratings are sinking. Players are unhappy and might strike. Owners are getting stonewalled by their cities when they ask for more, more, more. The big city teams are getting better because they can poach players, the small markets are getting worse because they are being poached. Every iffy situation. The leadership reacts poorly in iffy situations. The fan is being left behind, particularly the kids.

Football?

No. The game is getting boring and ratings are starting to slip. They’ve sold their souls to the social movement. Ticket prices are out of the reach of most of us, the players think they’re getting screwed. The leadership’s arrogance is wearing thin.

Basketball?

No. Like football, they’re being held hostage to social movements. TV ratings stink. Hardly any players are identifiable. The leadership is subservient to a small group of players.

Hockey?

No. It’s still a cold weather sport and it takes a very good warm weather team to draw fans. Its TV presence still isn’t growing. Its leadership seems to accept things as they are.

College football?

No. It’s big, very big, but it is letting greed put it into disarray. Teams are moving around, players doing the same. Your quarterback last year might be playing for your rival this year. Leadership? None, and there’s an under-the-table battle ready to pop as coaches have the power and school administrators want it back.

NASCAR?

No. It’s still stuck in the 1980s with a rabid fan base that’s getting smaller. Everyone is an independent contractor so leadership has a lot less power than you think. Everyone involved seems to think that the past is the present and the future will be the same.

Soccer?

No sport is lower on the acceptance scale than U.S. futbol. The men’s team can’t beat the Third World nations in our area, and the perception of the women’s goes no further its foulmouthed anthem-kneeling leader. A lot of public money has been poured into these teams and all we have gotten back is a Bronze medal and a lot of big talk.

Golf?

It took us a lot of words to get here and the answer to any question is Yes. It is the most stable of any sport from top to bottom. The only outlier is the Premier League, but that seems to be mostly an effort by agents to show their clients that they’re doing something. TV ratings are lower but they’re creeping back up in the post-Tiger era. The PGA Tour’s menu and LPGA have full schedules and the public is getting used to not having Tiger, who has been replaced by very attractive men and women who understand the need for being attractive. The PGA Tour is slowly (and surely) is bringing over other organizations under its big umbrella. Monopoly isn’t a great thing but it might work here, particularly if they can reenergize the European market. A good case can be made that Jay Monahan is the best commissioner in sports. Deane Beman was, and Tim Finchem came close. Monahan is an organizer and a visionary who has that rare ability to get people together and buy into a course of action. He has kept the sport out of the social activism that is fracturing others, yet he can defend his Tour against any of the so-called “activists” who make a living by threatening to use the word “racist” with no hesitation. Fans are happy, sponsors are happy, players are getting richer and TV wants more.

One of golf’s most colorful writers passed away last

month and leaves behind a wide range of feelings. To some, Greg Larson was an aggressive writer who would take on any subject. To others, a thankful bon voyage. Larson was the golf writer for the Jacksonville paper for maybe 20 years. New newsroom management didn’t like him, so he’s been a radio fixture for the last 20 years or so. His columnist days are remembered by most everyone. Good and bad. He wrote about Tom Weiskopf’s marital discord; Weiskopf called the sports desk and threatened to kill him. When J.C. Snead told Larson to quit bothering him while he hit balls, Larson called him a dumb hick and a PGA Tour official stopped Snead from hitting him with a 3-iron. Andy North not only refused to talk to him, he wouldn’t be in the same room. While other golf writers would go around and ask pros to tell the best shot they ever hit, Larson asked the worst shot. But Larson was revered by many in his profession. He had a job to do and he did it well; if the subject resisted, then Larson resisted back. He was prolific and had great ideas. He once went to New York City and, in one day with the help of public relations people, slid into home plate at Yankee Stadium, shot free throws at Madison Square Garden, and hit serves at the National Tennis Center. On the longest day of the year — June 20 — he and a local assistant pro teed off at dawn and, by the time it got too dark, had played seven different courses. He played baseball into his 50s, was a single-digit on the golf course, and even learned to play what might be the most difficult sport: jai alai. He’ll be missed. At least, by most people.