Archive for April, 2010

Tomorrow is the big day: The Masters!  And I must say that I’m really excited about it.  First of all, although I’m not yet a golfer, I get all jazzed up about The Masters each and every year for a number of reasons.  The first major tournament of the season signals to me the unofficial start of Spring: after The Masters, a chilly-ass day is the exception rather than the rule.  Another thing that makes The Masters the preeminent tournament in golf is the familiarity that comes with it being held each year at Augusta National Golf Club (as opposed to the other three major tournaments, which change venues each year, for those of you who don’t know shit about any of this stuff.)  Even if you just having a passing interest in golf or The Masters, you know about the harrowing 11th, 12th, and 13th Holes, also known as ‘Amen Corner;’ you recognize the Sarazen Bridge, and President Eisenhower’s Tree and Pond.   So when you combine Spring in Georgia, with a pristinely designed and manicured golf course full of history, you get tradition, and some incredibly stunning scenes of natural beauty.  And now with HD, the Azaleas, Magnolias, and Dogwoods, exploding with color in their full Spring bloom against a backdrop of ancient Oaks on a big TV, are enough to give you an eyegasm.  Also, if you happen to have DirecTV, you get a few bonus channels of coverage for free, which is nice, that focus on some of the more noteworthy holes.  And, as a bonus, for all the tea-bagging, birther, GOP, freedom-loving, real Americans out there, y’all even get a nice little slice of the Antebellum South (Augusta National was built on a former plantations, still has no Female membership, had no Black membership until the early 90s but had all Black caddies until the early 80s.)

But we all know that this year’s Masters is extra special, and we all know why: Tiger, Tiger Woods y’all!

The whole world will have their eyes fixed on this year’s Masters to see what happens.  Literally hundreds of reporters from dozens of media outlets worldwide have already descended upon little ‘ol Augusta, Georgia.  Of course this is more than a little ridiculous because all that is really gonna happen is that Tiger is gonna hit a little ball with a big stick, walk after it, and do it again.  I mean, it is not like Jamie Grubbs and Rachel Uchitel are gonna pop up from under The Hogan Bridge and demand that Tiger, “answer we, these questions three,” in order for him to pass over Rae’s Creek en route to the 12th green.  (But Jocelyn James, she of the very freaky Tiger texts, will be dancing at a strip-club in Atlanta, 100 miles from Augusta; so he’s got that going for him…)

The real thing everyone will be looking for is how Tiger will handle the scrutiny and pressure at what is ordinarily one of the most scrutinized and pressure-packed tournaments of the year.  The Masters is also an event that Tiger has dominated since turning pro, with 4 titles and numerous top-ten finishes.  Tiger’s length is tailor made for success on this course – pun very much intended.

Personally, I am very much looking forward to testing my abilities as a pop-psychologist regarding Tiger when he tees off Thursday at 1:42 pm.  Playing pop-psychologist is one of my favorite pastimes, because I fancy myself as someone who knows a thing or two about the neat little tricks the mind can play on its owner.  I think that Tiger has been striving towards this robotic version of human perfection in a sport that has a minuscule margin for error, a sport in which even a momentary loss of focus can result in disastrous consequences on the course.  My theory is that no matter what Tiger does on the golf course, this Terminator image of him has been shattered – an image he and his sponsors worked hard to cultivate – and that will affect his legendary focus and, ultimately, his golf game.  Because, regardless of how many tournaments he wins, regardless of whether or not he surpasses the great Jack Nicklaus in terms of major titles, Tiger is just another entitled jerkoff, who can’t keep his dick in his pants.  I dunno, I just think that this fact cannot help but be constantly gnawing at the back of his mind, which I believe will affect not only his game this week; but, more importantly, I feel that it will affect his overall drive and desire to be the greatest golfer ever..who just happened to engage in unprotected sex with a litany of random women, with a lovely wife and two young children at home.

So here’s my prediction:  Tiger doesn’t even make the cut. Remember that you heard it here, from the Monday Morning Punter.

And finally, I find it endlessly funny that Tiger chose to make his return to golf at The Masters, because masterbation would have saved Tiger a world of trouble.

UPDATE: So Tiger shot his best first round ever at The Masters, with a 4-under-par 68, and is making me look like an asshole, and a shitty pop-psychologist.  Dick!

Of course I’m not going out on a limb here in calling Jesse James a creep for cheating on Sandra Bullock, and totally ruining what should have been one of the great high-water-marks in her career.

I’d like to also take this opportunity to set something straight, in light of the recent (and the apparently not-so-recent) revelations of Jesse James  and his particular fondness for, shall we say, WWII memorabilia.   Specifically, I’d like to address the lame-ass excuses for this, now infamous, picture.  Also, here, where he pulls out the old some-of-my-best-godfathers-are-jews excuse.  Is it even cool for Jewish people to be godparents?

Shock value?

What, so now everyone who rocks nazi gear is like some edgy performance artist? Fuckin’ Lenny Bruce over here.  Give me a break: shock value, my ass.  See, the thing about Lenny, and others like him, was that while they indeed shocked people, they also made people laugh and think in the process.  There is nothing terribly clever or thought provoking about putting on nazi clothes: it’s just terrible, and it is certainly not funny.

History buff?

This excuse is even lamer than “Shock value;” because anyone who has even a casual interest in history – to say nothing about history “buffs” – would understand the horrid significance of nazi symbolism, and how it impacted and enabled the third reich’s power and ability to affect the inhuman group-think that resulted in some of the worst state-sponsored atrocities this world has ever known.

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who are sickened at the mere thought of donning any piece of a vile nazi uniform…and fucking nazi assholes!  Now I suppose I’m not willing to go and call Jesse James a straight-up nazi without actually knowing the man; but by wearing the gear, making the salute, and that German WWII Fokker plane back there in the pic, he is tacitly supporting a genocidal regime and murderous, dehumanizing political movement.

But I can safely say, at least, that he is an asshole.