Golfing Disasters Part Four: For at least the last decade PGA Tour officials have been much more likely to steer rookie professionals towards some good investment management rather than a session of anger management. And that's not just because nobody had heard of anger management 10 years ago.
The influx of money to the tour since Tiger Woods turned professional has meant that anyone coming out of qualifying school has a reasonable chance of making at least half a million dollars in his first season. The year before Woods entered the paid ranks, Greg Norman topped the money list with $1.65 million and John Wilson was the last player to retain his card by ranking 125th for the season with $149,280.
Last year Vijay Singh was number one with $10.9 million, which is more than the combined career earnings of Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer, and Tag Ridings just held on to his card with $623,262.
With so much money and so many other perks coming their way for the first time, you could argue that the rookies have little to be angry about. There are other reasons for staying calm. Many players have consulted with sports psychologists who have drummed into them that they have to stay in the present, instantly put disappointment to one side and think only of the next shot. In any case, the TV cameras are so prevalent that it's hard to get away with what the blazers might term an inappropriate show of emotion.
Well, if fans had forgotten what it was like to see a good old bit of club abuse, Pat Perez gave them a graphic reminder as he blew the lead on the final nine of the 2002 AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am. Not once, but twice.
The 25-year-old won the 2001 Qualifying School and in just his fourth tournament as a member of the Tour held a four-shot lead after three rounds. The advantage was down to one over Matt Gogel when Perez stepped on to the tee at the par five 14th. That's where he carved his three-wood second shot out of bounds, and, when he tried again with the same club and missed the fairway left, Perez violently smashed the offending weapon into the ground. As things transpired it might have been better if he'd broken it outright.
Having bounced back with birdies at the 15th and 17th, Perez knew that another on the 18th would give him the title. This time the drive was out of bounds on the right by less than two feet, and after he stomped back to the tee and found the fairway with his second effort, Perez needed a miracle shot on to the green and a single putt to force a play-off with Gogel.
Out came the bruised three-wood and into the Pacific Ocean went Perez's ball. Now it was more than a miracle he needed. He needed the producer to call for an ad break rather than highlighting his very best efforts to take out his frustration on a sprinkler head and then attempt to break the cursed club over his knee. A triple-bogey eight and a double dose of cursing was the best he could manage.
Gogel tried to get the rookie to see the positive side of events. "You have a lot to be proud of. You had a great tournament. I know how you feel. I've been in that situation. Come back next year."
Unsurprisingly, Perez didn't agree. "There's nothing good coming out of this week," was the printable part.
Further incidents led Tour officials to suggest to Perez that he take anger management therapy, but he wasn't having any of it: "I get mad and I show it. The only way I won't get mad is if I win every tournament," he said.
Three years later he still hasn't won any tournament. That's a whole lot of mad.
