GOLF CAN'T BE TRUSTED

In the streets of Philadelphia, he’d get a beating for showing up in an Orange County lock-up suite. Rickie Fowler slipped today, once getting dressed and twice on the par three #12, but he never rattled. Nebbish lies, that scare the rest, never bothered the man in orange; he’ll be back.

Only dogs can hear Phil’s frequency. Strengthened winds and a pushed drive on the back nine left Phil Mickelson on a service road; he played it. The ball flew over the announcer’s head and forced the TV crew to scramble for an angle. A mistimed seven ruined his run for the top, but he’s ready for the U.S. Open.

Winner of thirteen PGA events, Mark Calcavecchia retired from the tour today. Always ready for a beer, a brats or a burger, Calc shook off a triple at the last, now headed to play with his friends on the Senior Tour.

The sky looked higher for Justin Rose. After fourteen holes, he’d taken but eighteen putts, a tall order indeed. Six birdies without a stumble separated him from the rest. Tournament host, Jack Nicholas, rose from a Wal-mart beach chair to welcome the Brit to the winners circle.

For you weekend blasters, be freed, your belief that GOLF CAN’T BE TRUSTED turned true. Last weeks winner, Zack Johnson, fashioned a tie for forty-seventh. Walk tall, think taller, your day is near.