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Apr. 6, 1999 The Masters is still a putting contest
By Michael Mayo
AUGUSTA, Ga. -- They put a beard on the Mona Lisa. Actually more like some peach fuzz.
And that's the problem. If Augusta National really wanted to grow rough, they should have gone full out and grown rough. Something penal and severe and enough to make a difference. Not this 1 3/8th-inch fluff, a half-baked half-measure that will titillate more than devastate. And it will only serve to help the big hitters more than hinder them. "I like it," John Daly said upon first inspection. "You hit an errant tee shot, it doesn't get a lot of roll left or right. You can advance it, just with a little less spin." Fred Couples called the added layer of grass "fun." You'd never hear that at a U.S. Open. "It's like not real rough," Couples said Tuesday. "Before the ball would just keep rolling (all the way into the woods). Now it just hits there and stops. It's not going to go as far, but it's easy to get a club on the greens from that grass." Walking around the hallowed grounds has been a little strange this week, because the emerald carpets have gone shag. In the past, all the grass at Augusta was clipped exactly the same length, shorter than Bobby Knight's temper. Except for the greens, which were shaved like Telly Savalas.
In the past, there were no different shades and contours, no change between fairway and walkway. From the clubhouse lawn to the bottom of Amen Corner, the rolling expanse was uniform. But no more. Now there are actually clear-cut fairways. The rest is peach fuzz, a little thicker and longer. Enough to save balls from rolling to the pine needles, but not enough to have an impact on shots hit from it. If anything, the addition of rough might backfire, allowing a greater margin of error instead of lower. The patrons who have trod the grounds the first two days are looking at it curiously. Some are laughing, shaking their heads and saying, "If that's rough, they should see the fairways at my home course." We'll see how the stuff impacts play come Thursday, but you get the sense that it's merely a cosmetic change. "It's good looking," said Doug Ford, the 1957 Masters winner who will extend his appearance record to 47 this year. "It highlights the contours of the holes better, like at No. 9. It won't be an advantage, but it isn't much of a disadvantage for these guys. For me, a lie in the rough is better than in the fairway. The ball sits up. If it gets any longer it could be a problem, but right now it sits up there just right." Ford's overall opinion? "They don't need it, but..." But this is Augusta National, where they do anything they want. So why do it? In the newly-released book The Making of the Masters, David Owen relates how Cliff Roberts loved pre-tournament contests because they would "give the newspaper boys something to write about" early in the week. Same thing with this. It's merely a little something to write about early in the week. Some window dressing that makes for some harmless early copy.
It's too bad the green jackets, usually slaves to tradition, felt the need to stoop to this. Either they should have grown real rough or left the course alone. Some of the other course changes will have an impact, like the lengthening of Nos. 2 and 17, increased slope at the rebuilt 11th green and the addition of pine trees on the right side of the 15th fairway. These too might end up benefiting the longer hitters more than the rest of the field, perhaps a reverse of the intended effect. But the Masters remains the Masters, meaning it still boils down to a putting contest. All the fancy alterations won't change that. "You've got to have one of those weeks with the putter," Daly said. "Just go back and watch the year Tiger won. He made everything. It's a course where you just have to make a lot of putts." When Woods won in 1997, he didn't three putt. Same with O'Meara last year. No three putts. Ditto for Ben Crenshaw in 1995. Nick Faldo three-putted only once in 1996. That's one three-putt among the last four winners. As much as the green jackets try to deflect attention with bells and whistles, smoke and mirrors, new rough and new trees, it's what happens on the greens that counts. Editor's Note: Mike Mayo, noted golf writer and sports columnist of South Florida's Sun-Sentinel, is a regular contributor to GolfWeb. |
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