There is no doubt that us Irish have a deserved reputation for talking about the weather; “nice day”, “soft day”, “fierce close” and “you wouldn’t put a milk bottle out in it” spring to mind for passing comments on the climate. We are not alone.
Given the outdoor aspect to our livelihood in the world of professional golf al fresco, talking about the weather is a hazard of the trade. This is particularly true when it comes to the final day when we are all planning to move on and if we can possibly make that last flight out of town on a Sunday night. It all depends on the weather of course.
Get on the wrong side of the draw from a weather perspective such as the late first round players and early second- rounders at the Open Championship this year and you will be patently aware of how the weather can affect your livelihood. There was at least a two-shot advantage in starting early then late. Most of us have come to terms with the luck of the draw but never cease to mention the occasions we fall on the wrong side of it and have instant amnesia about the good draws.
Despite what many of you may think about the weather in the United States, let me fill you in on the reality, it rains a lot and they enjoy some spectacular thunderstorms, especially in the summertime up north. So when you are planning your fast exit from an event you do need to consider the reality of the elements. The PGA Tour are well versed in dealing with inclement weather and their members have become accustomed to the very decisive and fair method of dealing with show-stopping conditions. In fact we are so used to the molly-coddling by the tour officials that when it comes to big events run by tournament part-timers, such as the PGA of America last week, we are all a little taken aback by the lack of action and communication concerning weather delays.
Ironic then that it was an Irish man who seemed to fall foul of the deluge that dumped on the Valhalla course east of Louisville at the start of the second round of the 96th PGA Championship last week. The chatter about the caddie-shack and locker room was that Friday was going to be a washout. It lashed rain but there was no lightning so there was only a short delay for course flooding. Poor Shane Lowry was on the first green as it began to rise above his water, but not deluge, resistant golf shoes. He was not informed as to what exactly the officials intentions were. He was to shelter, in situ, under his umbrella and wait for the rain to stop and the official word to recommence play. It was all a bit chaotic for professionals who have pretty rigid routines of practice, warm-up and competition, So lurking under an umbrella first thing in your second round of a major championship did not really fit the professional pre restart bill.
We (Ernie and I) suffered a similar fate on Sunday last (I had, armed with a wealth of disappointing past experiences, not planned my escape for Sunday night). I was booked for a casual departure the following afternoon. The heavens opened at 12.29 on Sunday last and we teed off at 12.35. By 12.53, standing in the second fairway as it quickly enveloped our footwear we sank and it rose, we were somehow told to halt play by the sound of a damp klaxon. After 10 minutes of lurking hopelessly under a leaking tree as a gushing ravine sped past us, an official casually mentioned that we could go back to the clubhouse and our options for doing so were to walk to the fourth hole or walk back to the clubhouse. Neither choice was that enticing given that the course was by then submerged and walking was not the term for how we had to traverse the deluge. Sliding, jumping, squelching, clutching and sidling was how we actually made it back to the shelter of the house. No thanks to the PGA.
As puddles formed about me on the balcony, the seepage from my saturated clothing and golf bag, I noticed that the cars that should have been out on the course transporting us back in a civilised manner befitting of such a prestigious event were being shampooed and washed.
How thoughtful of the PGA. Call me a pampered modern bag-toter or worse but I didn't think it was that unreasonable to expect to be brought back to the clubhouse and informed as to their intentions regarding a restart. So the babbling began on the terrace. Perhaps Valhalla was suffering a similar fate to another Jack Nicklaus course(his own in Dublin, Ohio) which some say has an old Indian hex on it for building on a sacred burial site. With the amount of rain that fell last week it wasn't only the sceptics who were raising their eyebrows at that theory.
I should mention that the best golfer in the world won his third event in a row and has established himself as “the one to beat” whenever he pegs it up. His power and accuracy was only assisted by the soaked terrain. Wind, rain or shine, Rory wins and that looks like the forecast for the foreseeable future.
