The PGA Championship is this week … I’m sorry, was that a yawn?
C’mon, this is one of golf’s major championships. There’s only four of them, you know, or is it three? It’s easy to forget.
Rude, you say? OK, yes, guilty as charged. After all, you can’t blame the Professional Golf Association or its championship for the fact it doesn’t quite measure up to the Opens and the Masters. It’s a golf tournament, not a marketing ploy.
Perhaps the brand needs a shot of adrenaline, a fresh face. Maybe the PGA should create a set of golf clubs for Dylan Mulvaney.
Well … maybe not.
The truth is, the PGA Championship is never going to hit the major championship hole. The gathering in Rochester, N.Y. this week just doesn’t carry the cachet of the others, never has, never will.
For many years, the PGA Championship was conducted in August, batting cleanup in the major championship order. The week became known as “Glory’s Last Shot,” establishing that glory is part and parcel with a major and — as a major — the PGA represented the last chance of the year to attain it. Made sense, even without the approval of the PGA Tour and its subsequent Tour Championship.
But in truth, the sequence was more like the George Foreman-Joe Frazier fight in 1973, the one where Frazier got rocked with bomb after bomb, where he essentially was out on his feet by the “last shoT” as landed. The moment wasn’t especially glorious.
PGA Championship gets major date change
In 2019, the PGA Championship moved to May on the calendar, a month after the Masters and ahead of the two national championships — ours and theirs. The change promised to be good for the status-starved PGA, a chance to draft off the Masters, capture ratings and exposure and enjoy the vitality of a new season before it got spent.
But perception is reality, in August or May. The re-position doesn’t feel like a slugger has moved up in the order, more like batting the pitcher second, with the bunt sign on. The makeover worked well in 2021, with 50-year old Phil Mickelson turning back pages. And to be fair, there’s no questioning the quality of a PGA field, annually top notch.
Moreover, this year’s venue — Oak Hill Country Club — has considerable pedigree. The ground has provided theater for a number of greats, including Cary Middlecoff (1956 U.S. Open), Lee Trevino (1968 U.S. Open), Jack Nicklaus (1980 U.S. Open) and … 2003 PGA Championship winner Shaun Micheel.
Uh, did we mention Jack Nicklaus?
To quote a terribly tired, thoroughly meaningless but uniquely accurate analogy, it is what it is. And no matter what else it is, it isn’t going to be anything else. Follow?
You can put the fourth line out for the second shift, but it’s still the fourth line. You can be a terrific right guard, but you’re still not as important as the left tackle. You can improve your defense on the right side of the infield, but it’s still not as important as the left side of the infield.
The PGA Championship has been memorable on many occasions. The 2000 PGA battle between Tiger Woods and Bob May is among the most dramatic Sundays in major championship history. But the PGA also lists winners such as Micheel, Jimmy Walker, Y.E. Yang, Rich Beem, Keegan Bradley, Jason Dufner, Mark Brooks … None has won a major other than their PGA.
Woods isn’t competing this week. One has to wonder if he’ll be competing in any PGAs to come. He is staring down the cake of his 48th birthday (December) and recovering from another surgery. He now has made nearly as many cuts in the operating room as anywhere else, fusing and dissecting just about everything.
And while his Miracle Masters is only four years removed, it took place before his horrible car crash in 2021. Woods still makes ratings explode, but in terms of competition he is on the verge of celebratory status. Since the 2019 Masters, he has completed fewer majors (four) than he has defaulted (six). There’s not a top-20 finish in the lot.
No, you never write him out. But these days, championships no longer can bank on Woods’ nitrous to sell the finished product. These days, the run-up to the next major is a discussion about how many LIV players are in the field. But, with its team concept, shotgun starts, 48-man fields and 54-hole competitions, what percentage of fans take the LIV seriously?
It’s like having the crew of the Love Boat competing in the America’s Cup.
That said, professional golf still has game. The final round of this year’s Masters was the most-watched golf telecast in five years, boosted by a Sunday showdown between OWGR No. 1 Jon Rahm and the LIV artist formerly known as world No. 1 Brooks Koepka.
With a credible leaderboard, there’s no reason why the PGA Championship shouldn’t get its due, the cluttering presence of PGA teaching pros notwithstanding. Maybe a name change would help. After all, none of the other majors reference a governing association in their title.
The British Open is known simply as “The Open Championship” — singular, classy, to the point. The USGA conducts the most difficult of the four majors as the ‘U.S. Open,” prideful, demanding, unapologetic.
Augusta National has a romantic and incomparable golf course to make its mark, and a “Masters” label with it since 1934. Eighty-seven championships and 90 years later, what else could it be?
Perhaps the PGA Championship should consider just calling itself, The Championship — imposing yet minimalistic, leaves the devil in the details, eliminates the confusing overlap with the PGA Tour.
Think about it — The Championship is next week!
I’m sorry … was that a yawn?
Dan O’Neill writes columns for Sportsnaut. Follow him on Twitter at @WWDOD