Wait, sorry, wrong "most anticipated comeback in golf history," as Kelly Tilghman put it after that enormously lame opening capped off by Frank Nobilo doing a Tiger fist pump.
I just want to know: who was standing next to the green-screen holding a gun to Frank's head?
Since they made a movie about Hogan's bus accident comeback at Riviera--the previous most anticipated comeback in golf history until today's event in Arizona--I've been trying to envision a similar epic in the vein of Follow the Sun, only this time shot at The Ritz Carlton Golf Club at Dove Mountain. Just doesn't have quite the same ring to it, eh?
Anyway, all of the day-one matches were nicely summarized here by PGATour.com.
From the parts I saw, Tiger's swing looked incredible and kudos to Golf Channel with the side-by-side comparison between Saturday of the U.S. Open versus today's swing. It made up for Rolfing's early telecast Rossie moments (Oh it's started right and really high, ballooning in the wind...it's four feet for birdie!).
In reading the coverage, the most interesting accounts focused not on Tiger, but his relatively unknown opponent.
Bob Harig offers this observation and comment from Jones:
During the long walk between the first green and the second tee, Jones found himself walking with the masses, where he heard somebody remark that just nine more holes were necessary for a 10 and 8 outcome -- which would mean Woods' winning every hole.
"That annoyed me to a point," said Jones, who couldn't have been happy to see Woods float a 5-iron from 235 yards to 4 feet at the second to set up an eagle.
"I've never hit a shot like that, that high and soft," Jones said. "He hits some shots that other people can't hit."
At his peril, Steve Elling acknowledges the presence of other players while noting why Tiger's match started late.
This time, there wasn't an inch of wood available in the bleachers. Fans stood four deep around the tee box, and they lined the ropes all the way to the green some 460 yards away. It was a bigger crowd than when Cink played Woods in the championship match last year.
"I just told everybody on the first tee that he's waited eight months to play," Cink said. "He can wait two more minutes."
Cink wound up winning his match, one of six that required overtime.
Cameron Morfit notes this about Jones.
Unlike the Accenture's first round in 2008, when J.B. Holmes nearly upset Woods, Jones looked like he was in over his head.
"We have to buy our own lunch," Jones said earlier in the week, when asked about the differences between the Japan Tour, where he works, and the PGA. He added: "You don't have the media to a point that we have got here or in America in general."
Preparation had gone well enough. Jones secured a seasoned caddie, Ron Levin, through his friendship with Levin's old boss Todd Hamilton, another Japan Tour veteran. Jones and Levin began learning the new course on Monday, and there was much work to do. Woods had not hit a shot in competition since last June. But that didn't necessarily give Jones a leg up; because of the vagaries of the Japan Tour's schedule (it doesn't start until mid-April), he had not competed since early December.
And Jeff Rude shares this:
This is a candid, affable Australian who isn’t shy about sharing thoughts about his raw emotions.
“I’ve been nervous ever since I found out I was playing him,” Jones said. “Today was my least nervous. When you think about him in bed, he’s very daunting. I’m a bad sleeper. That’s why last night surprised me when I got good rest. I was dreading the thought of having to play him on no sleep.”
That kind of talk helps explain why Woods is so difficult to beat. His opponents lie in bed thinking about him. Woods, meanwhile, doesn’t spend a second thinking about the Brendan Jones of golf. Or the Phil Mickelsons, for that matter.
