I’m watching U.S. Open coverage and it almost hurts my eyes to see what Tiger is doing—two rounds like the old Tiger and the last two rounds like some alien pussy cat. He has just gone +4 on the first three holes, and it looks like he could shoot eighty or ninety today. Ugly. So, instead, I’ll try not to look at him and watch the others, especially young Hoestler, who just made a miraculous par on the first hole. Amusing that this pairing, Jason Dufner and Bo Hossler, should have such obvious nicknames: Dufner, The Duffer, and Hossler, The Hustler. And does young Bo Hossler ever look like a potential hustler. And there will be the excitement of the final pairing with Graeme McDowell and Jim Furyk. Bring it on home, Jim.
I just found this in Peter Straub’s The Throat, and thought it too good not to pass on: “Either childhood is a lot more painful the second time around, or it’s just less bearable. None of us are as strong or as brave as the children we used to be.” I like that, but I’m not sure why I like it. Maybe it’s because when I look back at my childhood, live it a second time, it's painful with a pain I didn’t notice when I was living it. Or something like that.
Happy Fathers' Day, everyone.