Posts Tagged ‘Golf’

J.E. (Who???) Yeng beats that loser Tiger Woods



OK, so this Y.E. Yeng guy did not read our prior blog post here about how golfers freak out and lose to Tiger Woods when competing against Tiger, who is a loser, by the way. Biggest loser since Jerry Jones.
Really, though, what an amazing golf performance by this Korean that nobody ever heard of, to hang that tough and to show that much grace under the pressure of competing against Tigerman, who used to be a superhuman golfer but now has been reduced to just another loser.
Something tells us Tiger will be back though, maybe, possibly, probably.
And as bad as Tiger hates to lose, he’s probably beating up this little Korean in the parking lot as we speak.

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Freak out!!! (What other golfers do against Tigerman Woods)

The Tigerman

The Tigerman

A researcher at Kellogg management group, Jennifer Brown, found that people actually perform worse when competing in the same tournament as Tiger Woods. She found that when players compete against him, their score is, on average, .2 strokes higher than normal (if you don’t follow golf, a high score is bad). The reason for this, she suggests, is that players don’t try as hard when Woods is in the field. When Tiger’s having a bad day, players pick up their performance, feeling they may actually have a chance.

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Golf was never meant to be this ugly

As promised, here’s a quick look at Charles Barkley’s hideously ugly and terrifying golf swing with analysis.
As you can see, he is about to hurt himself real bad here, but fortunately, Sir Charles, being the big strong former NBA athlete and mighty man that he is has never yet broken a wrist, arm, leg or hip in his downswing, nor has he thrown a shoulder out of socket, miraculously.
But as you can see, he is a danger to himself every time he swings the club.
I’m a lifelong golfer and student of the game and I can tell you that, to the trained golf eye, there is nothing in the world more beautiful to gaze upon than a beautiful, fluid golf swing, although, I never tire of gazing at the beauty of dazzling sunsets, ducks in flight, Charlize Theron, Catherine Zeta-Jones, endless blue oceans and certain other stuff like that.
However, watching the easy, grace-filled swing of, say, Freddie Couples, who’s fast getting old like me but still has the most beautiful God-given golf swing ever in my humble opinion, is something to behold. A real work of art.
But then you have the beauty of the Tigerman’s swing, which is like watching a bullet train speed through the French countryside–so lightning fast and powerful and yet shimmering like a silver train in the sun.
And so, all that said, when you watch Charles Barkley swing the golf club, you want to throw up.
And just might.
It’s as if he took his clubs on a hike through the ugly forest and hit every tree and now, every time he picks up one of those clubs, ugly just breaks out all around.
Many golf writers have used colorful language to describe the swing and the danger of it too.
I forget which great writer wrote, “Once Barkley’s ball takes off in its erratic flight, you’ll want to be a good two zip codes away for your own safety.”
As we said yesterday here, Sir Charles–who by the way was nicknamed Sir Charles long before Paul McCartney was actually beknighted by the Queen or whoever of England and actually became a genuine Sir–is every guy’s favorite guy, the one cool guy and great athlete we’d all like to male bond with, although Freddie Couples is way cool and you’ll never meet a golf guy who wouldn’t want to hang with Freddie in the clubhouse who despite his age is ageless and a great racontuer.
We have to point out that yes, Tiger has got all the male-man cool in the world and we guys all really like him a lot but he’s a little too much on the serious side for much real male bonding for most guys to really want to hang out with Tiger and just not funny like Sir Charles or entertaining and a great raconteur like Freddie.
Although, even Tiger has gotten off some hilarious imitations of Sir Charles’ hideously ugly golf swing, if you can call that a swing, incidentally.
Now I’d hang with Sir Paul who’s so genuine and down to earth and always so grace-filled for a guy who’s got $7.8 Billion dollars in the bank (“I’m just an old hippie,” he told Larry King. Right, Paul) and we’ll have more on that in our Open Letter to Sir Paul later at jitterbuggingforjesus.com where guys like to come hang out and women like to visit and email me thinking they’ll have a shot at scoring a night at the Sir Paul gig with me but they need to pony up the $100 lottery tickets for that and do it today–this is the last call–or I take my 18 year old daughter who thinks Paul McCartney is just some old man like dad who was married to that Heather on Dancing with the Stars.
As Sir Charles would say, “That’s a terrble thought; just a terrable thought to take your 18 year old daughter to see a Beatle, man.”
Terrble indeed but I really don’t want to have to take my imaginary friend, who can’t drive me to the new Jerry Jones Palace for the big show.
I think I’ve said enough.

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Tiger! Tiger! Burning Bright! (Again!)

Bridgestone Invitational Golf

Another day, another championship, another record, ho-hum.
Where will it all end?
AKRON, Ohio (AP)—First came another signature moment from Tiger Woods, an 8-iron over the water that stopped a foot from the hole. Even more stunning was the meltdown that followed by Padraig Harrington.

A swift and shocking turn of events on Firestone’s famous 16th hole took Woods went from one shot behind to a four-shot victory Sunday as he closed with a 5-under 65 to win the Bridgestone Invitational.

It was his 16th victory in the World Golf Championship series, and the world’s No. 1 player now goes to the PGA Championship next week at Hazeltine with two straight victories after missing the cut last month in the British Open.

After nearly four hours in the tough battle that Harrington expected, the Irishman let it slip away.

Woods left himself some 170 yards over the water, and his 8-iron landed near the pin and rolled back a foot away. Harrington hit from the collar of a bunker over the 16th green, but his delicate flop shot from behind the green came out hot and went into the water.

He wound up with a triple bogey and closed with a 3-over 73 to share second place with Robert Allenby, who had a 66.

The par-5 16th is the most famous hole at Firestone, given the nickname “The Monster” years ago by Arnold Palmer.

“I took 6 and 8 the last two days, so I certainly think it was a monster,” Harrington said.

Woods, who has won the Bridgestone Invitational seven times in 10 starts and has never finished out of the top five, closed out his remarkable afternoon in style with a 6-foot birdie putt.

It was the 70th victory of his PGA Tour career, three behind Jack Nicklaus in second place. Sam Snead (82) holds th

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Aging golfers defying the aging process



Sorry I got to see none of the Brit Open, Tom, but thank you from all of us 59 and up.

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Tom Watson: Older than Methuselah’s Uncle????

Old Man Watson?

Old Man Watson?

OK, people. You might want to call Homeland Security.
You might want to call the cops.

Might want to pray I don’t do an Elvis on the teevee with my 9 iron.
All this is because, I have been tuned in to the non-coverage of the British Open on ESPN and I do not know what I was thinking when I hooked up my 42 inch HD superbad Teevee with AT&T wireless and did not think to make sure I bought a plan that had THE GOLF CHANNEL!!!
I mean, what do you think? Do you think I was having flashbacks from that LSD I took back in the sixties?
I can tell you that will never happen because placing something known as “acid” on my tongue never sounded all that appealing to me even in my misspent youth.
Do you think I was trying to save a few skins and went on the cheap?
That is entirely possible because once AT&T hooks you into a contract that makes you more wired than John Belushi (as one of my sicker friends likes to say I am with all my new tech toys), you will stand your ground with that nerdy sales kid at ATT and go on the cheap on channel selection if nothing else.

But I digress, as really bad writers like to say.

I’m a trifle riled up, I kinda got my back up, I’m sort of feeling this stinging sensation in my side like there’s a thorn there or something, all because everywhere I turn today to see how 59-year-old Tom Watson is faring in the British Open, I’m bombarded with ageism from all these snot-nosed graduates of “communications schools” (they used to be journalism schools; don’t get me started) who are just marveling that OLD MAN TOM WATSON went to bed last night leading the storied British Open.

The worst offender is ESPN, or is it ESPN 2 or 3 or 9 and by the way, how many different channels does one sports network need?

Man, I get home many ticks after midnight on nights I work at the hospital and I flop down in my easy chair wanting to chill and will turn on the Teevee and surf around looking for something to help me decompress from all the chaos and mayhem in the ER even nights when there’s NOT a full moon, and sometimes I flip through all 9 channels of EPSN and let me tell you–at that hour of the night, all 9 channels of ESPN are showing either (a) billiards tournaments in Vegas (b) blackjack tournaments in Reno (c) darts tournaments out of some pub in Montreal, of all places, or (d) old films, once again, of then Cassius Clay and now Muhammed Ali rearranging Sonny Liston’s face, which–to this day, after all these years–is as hard to watch as it was to watch when it actually happened in prehistoric times –1964 to be exact–when I –and TOM WATSON, by the way–were both 14 years old. (Actually, me and Tom Watson and every other male in America had to hear that storied fight on a prehistoric machine called a RADIO, because the fight was not shown live on our black-and-white teevees.)

Yes, kids at ESPN’s multiple boring sports channels full of babblers out of “communications schools” —Tom Watson is FIFTY NINE YEARS OLD.

Which, from where I sit, is NOT ALL THAT OLD!

If you don’t believe it, come on down to Dallas and let’s go to my 24 Hour Fitness Center at LBJ and Royal Lane )meet me there later if you dare) and see if you can swim as many laps as THIS FIFTY NINE YEAR OLD REV. JITTERBUGGER CAN!

We’ll invite the great one, Magic Johnson himself, to come down to put our swim meet on the TEEVEE and have Magic commentate it and he’d probably do it because he owns the 24 Hour Fitness Center chain and it would give him a chance to promote his fine business and by the way, he never even went to any “communications school” but Magic, among other things, is one outstanding teevee sports commentator.

True, he’s no Charles Barkley, who I like a  lot even if he does say this too much when sports commentating: “That’s just terrabull. That was just a terrabull shot.”

Well, even though I consider myself an almost pacifist (radical Christian love div.), my admiration for Charles Barkley shot through the roof when he was with the Houston Rockets and went one night to the nightclub right across the street in downtown Houston from the Houston Chronicle where I once did “communiciations” and some really, really, really stoopid Houston cowboy (Houston is full of really, really, really stoopid cowboys, I’m just sorry and the good Lord will just have to forgive me that)–this stoopid cowpoke decided to pick a fight with Charles Barkley.

Barkley thought that was just a really “terrabull” and stoopid thing to do, so Barkley picked up the nightclub patron and literally threw him through a plate-glass window onto the side walk while the Chronicle’s news reporters who smoked were out on the balcony of the 9nth floor smoking and heard the crash and wondered if there might not be a story right under their noses for news.

The cowboy was a trifle late getting to the hospital because all the cops and paramedics (and reporters) were lining up to get Barkley’s autograph. (And the grand jury that decided not to press charges on Barkley, who was minding his very own business when this Clint Eastwood-wannabee picked a fight with him–they had their PICTURES made with Barkley. Which strikes me as just a terrabullee inappropriate thing for grand jurors to do but what they heck–I’d want my picture made with Charles Barkley before I’d want it made with, say, Bill Clinton or Harry Reid or All what’s-his-name or I’ll Bore. And I’m a librul!)

Terrabull. I know.

But I digress, as graduates of “communications schools” are fond of clicheying.

Well, I hope these young whippersnappers marveling that Old Man Watson led the British Open at his ADVANCED AGE know how old they will all grow to be if somebody disturbed by their blatant ageism doesn’t hurl them through a plate glass window first.

Guys, you make Watson sound like he’s older than Methuselah’s Uncle.

Methuselah–that’s a biblical figure, and you people obviously don’t read your Bible while attending “communications schools.”

Enough already, ESPN. Stick to the twindleewinks tournaments in Shetland County and leave the golf commentary to the pros at the Golf Channel because believe me, ESPN–you guys are no golf channel, and have no respect for your elders to-boot.

I feel better and think I’ll digress down to Magic’s place for some swim therapy now at you-know-where, yaw because it’s waaaaaaaay too hot to play golf in Dallas and ESPN doesn’t know what it’s doing.

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“Tyger! Tyger! burning bright!

Long before it was over, the 2009 AT&T National had become a character study of the reigning sovereign (Tiger Woods) and the man who could be king (Anthony Kim).

The former has been golf’s most jaw-dropping natural talent for most of the last 15 years, the latter the most promising up-and-comer for the last 15 months.

So when Woods and golf’s would-be Li’l Tiger clashed at the AT&T National at Congressional Country Club outside Washington, D.C., over Fourth of July weekend, few could imagine a more compelling scenario.

Despite a surprise run by Hunter Mahan (62, 12-under), Woods prevailed, shooting a final-round 67 to edge Mahan by one stroke and Kim by four.

“I don’t think you can go through the history books and find anyone as consistent as Tiger,” Rod Pampling said on the eve of a third-round pairing with Woods. “Even Jack I don’t think was as consistent as Tiger.”

Sunday marked Woods’s 68th career victory.

“Tyger! Tyger”
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
— from the poem “Tyger! Tyger! by William Blake

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Nobody’s clicked on to this web page today. Well, almost nobody–13 people! that’s ‘terrbul!” as Charles Barkley would say.
IF you’ve never seen Charles Barkley getting golf lessons from Hank Haney on the golf channel, you’re missing the best entertainment on TV. Haney is such a great golf teacher—he instructs that Tiger Woods guy!
Barkley has a golf swing that is utterly painful to watch. He’s just a “terrbul” golfer, but what’s so hilarious is, he KNOWS he’s “terrbul.” All kinds of celebrities–other sports pros, famous actors and singers and musicians and TV personalities and, especially, every comedian in the country–they all come on to the weekly show where Hank Haney tries to teach Barkley how to get out of that “terrbul” golf swing, and they just merciless fun of Barkely.
Even Tiger–not nfor his comedic talents–is drop dead funny imitating Barkley’s “terrbul” golf swing. Barkley deadpans in one show, “Tiger Woods ain’t no big deal no how. Another flash in the pan.” Anyway, jitterbuggers better be back here tomorrow. After church, of course.

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Jitterbuggers will recall that Jitterbugger had a $100 wager riding on the back of Tiger Woods in the Masters last weekend, and Tiger couldn’t take the pressure. Folded his tent. Choked. Collapsed. Lost his Mojo and couldn’t find it again, thereby losing the Masters and causing Jitterbugger the public humiliation of having to pay $100 to the charity of the choice of Mr. Roberts the fabulously wealthy architect who bet on anybody to beat Tiger in said Masters.
I’m a loser.
I have no redeeming social value.
I stated for all the world to see on this very blog site that “this is the safest bet I ever made” in reference to my wager on Tiger to win yet another Masters.
The good news is, Mr. Walters said I could send the $100 to the charity of my choice and we’ll call it even.
And so, I”m sending $100 to Methodism’s Breadbasket, a ministry of The United Methodist Church in the North Texas Annual Conference.
See Methodismbreadbasket.org or more info.
And do Jitterbugger and favor and send them a donation if you’re so inclined at:
Methodism’s Breadbasket
c/o Cynthia Martin
executive director
P.O. Box 150425
Dallas, Tx 75223.
And tell her Jitterbugger sent you.

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Yes, jitterbuggers–Tiger Woods demonstrated that he is not so superhuman after all by buckling under the pressure of the $100 wager for charity that Jitterbugger the blogger had riding on him to win the Masters Golf Championship.
Which means that Jitterbugger owes $100 to the charity of the choice of his fellow Navasota Rattler (Class of 68, Navasota High School; go Rattlers!), Mr. Walters the architect, which doesn’t seem right since the Jitterbugger’s classmate of old is a fabulously wealthy architect.
Jitterbugger is sure that Mr. Walters, who wagered on anybody but Tiger to win, will be contacting him soon with the charity or church of his choice for that $100 skins.
Jitterbugger the media critic thinks it’s way time for all the golf pundits to give the Master’s winner, Angel Cabrera of Argentina, his much deserved credit for hanging tough and winning the coveted green jacket fair and square in a Sudden Death Playoff.
All the buzz is about the side tournament that was going on Sunday between Tiger and Phil Mickelson and how they both caved while the three guys who ended up in Sudden Death were slugging it out.
It’s getting a little old hearing how Kenny Perry, who was everybody’s sentimental favorite because of his age (49), because he’s Mr. Nice Guy, because he’s never won a Major tournament, and because he lives in his little hometown and has been married to his 8th grade sweetheart for about a hundred years.
Yeah, great story.
Great story in the “battle” between Tiger and Phil also.
But hello!!!!!!!!!?????
Who won the Green Jacket this year?
Oh, yeah. Angel Cabrera.
Who won so quietly, with such inner strength, with such journeyman-like determination, and so boringly, if that’s a word, that you still wouldn’t know, on this Monday morning, that he is the WINNER of the 2009 Masters.
The fact remains that everybody else is an also-ran, including Tiger, including Perry and Phil and the other guy who was in the running.
Angel’s a great story too, if only because he looks like Tony Soprano if Tony Soprano were born again and had the grace of God in him.
Angel too is Mr. Nice guy, and generous in helping children in his homeland.
Good show, Angel.

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