We lemming amateurs are led around this game by anyone who can play it at an elite level, from the logos we wear to the shots we attempt to the way we react to putts that go in. Or haven't you noticed all those uppercut fist-pumps that resemble Nike swooshes from the mini-Tigers at your home club?
But there is no greater copycat crime in golf than the club selections we base on how somebody who can actually play this game hits the ball.
So, if a guy using two drivers wins the Masters on Sunday, there will be fools showing up at every golf course in the country Monday with twice as much lumber as they need.
The difference would be, Mickelson has his left-to-right and right-to-left drivers; ours would be OB-right and OB-left models.
And just imagine what it will be like playing behind four guys each hitting two different drivers in any number of directions.
Hogan versus Carnoustie mimicked Sir Edmund Hillary versus Mount Everest, a win-or-die sportsman against a natural enemy that could just about kill you. Hogan conquered Carnoustie, because it was there. The swelling crowds and the British press loved everything about him, from his impeccable wool and cashmere clothing to the fire beneath the ice of his personality. Hogan further endeared himself by slipping on a gray tweed jacket—and removing his hat—to accept the Claret Jug. CURT SAMPSON