Archive for October, 2009

 
Friday, October 16th, 2009

RealClearSports: No Forgetting the Earthquake World Series

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

SAN FRANCISCO — Twenty years ago, Oct. 17, 1989. 5:04 p.m. PDT, Athletics vs. Giants, Game 3 of the Bay Bridge World Series, a festive time that in an instant would become a tragic one.

“I didn’t really feel the quake at first,” Bob Welch said a while ago. He was in the visiting clubhouse, getting liniment rubbed on his shoulder. He was five minutes from walking to the bullpen to warm up, to prepare for his start.

“I thought they were rolling barrels on the ramps above the clubhouse.”

On the other side, Dusty Baker, the Giants’ batting coach at the time, didn’t have any doubts. He knew it was an earthquake.

Up in the second deck at Candlestick Park, where the overflow media had been seated, an area of temporary desks, the so-called auxiliary press box, I also knew.

What no one knew was how severe it would be. How it would knock down freeways, dissect the World Series.

Twenty years ago. I still have the memories. I still have a copy of the column I wrote for the San Francisco Examiner a couple of days after the quake. Not the night of the quake, because there was no power in the city.

The Examiner and Chronicle, a joint-operating effort, couldn’t print. The Oakland Tribune could. The San Jose Mercury could, but not the papers in the city where the tragedy occurred.

Rob Matwick is an exec with the Texas Rangers now. Twenty years ago he was public relations director for the Houston Astros, assigned as many of his colleagues to work the Series. He was adjacent to me when it sounded as if a fright train were running through the park.

“What’s that?” he asked. As Dusty, I’m a native Californian. “An earthquake,” I answered. I’d spent all my life in the state, south and north. I know earthquakes.

“But,” I wrote 20 years ago, “I’ve never known one like this before. Candlestick swayed like a ship on a stormy sea. The quake lasted maybe 15 seconds that seemed like an hour.

“And then it was over, and some 60,000 cheered. They were Californians. They were Giants fans. They were survivors. Surely this was a sign from nature: No harm, no foul. ‘Play ball, play ball,’ they began to chant.”

The teams couldn’t play. No power. No lights. No idea of what was happening.

Norm Sherry, the Giants pitching coach, was telling those on the field, “The Bay Bridge is down.” I had one of those little battery-powered TV sets. The bridge was standing, but a section of the upper deck had dropped onto the lower deck.

In effect, the bottom had dropped out of the World Series.

“After it stopped,” said Welch, who now lives in Arizona, “I still thought I was going to pitch. Actually, I thought about (Oct. 1) 1987, when my last start for the Dodgers, there was a 5.9 quake in L.A. that rolled me out of bed.”

This one, the Loma Prieta Quake, named for the fault some 65 miles southwest of San Francisco, was first called at 6.9 on the Richter scale, where the rating is logarithmic and not merely one step above the next.

Then it was revised to 7.1, the worst earthquake in Northern California since the infamous one of 1906, which along with a subsequent fire destroyed most of San Francisco.

There was a fire in the ‘89 quake too, centralized in the Marina District, and because of low pressure, water had to be pumped from the bay. A couple of days after the quake, Joe DiMaggio was in line with Marina residents to check on property owned by his family.

That first night was science-fiction eerie. All of San Francisco was pitch-black. No lights, no elevators, no television. The next afternoon, baseball commissioner Fay Vincent spoke to the media in a ballroom at the St. Francis Hotel lit only by candelabra, as in the 18th Century.

From Candlestick to candelabra in a matter of hours.

Dozens were killed by the quake, many under a collapsed freeway in Oakland, never to be rebuilt. Damage was in the billions.

Candlestick, windy, much-reviled Candlestick, built on a solid ground, held up except for broken hunks of cement here and there.

The A’s, who had taken the first two games in Oakland, decided to dress at their park and bus across the bay, maybe 23 miles from stadium to stadium. Wives and families had come in their own transportation.

Mark McGwire helped his then-girlfriend from the stands. As the A’s Stan Javier, years later to play for the Giants, helped his wife, Vera. Oakland’s Terry Steinbach embraced his wife, Mary. The Giants’ Kelly Downs, in a photo that would be on the cover of Sports Illustrated, carried a young relative to safety.

Jose Canseco would be seen gassing up his Porsche some place down the Peninsula from Candlestick. Who knew if the San Mateo Bridge, the next one south of the Bay Bridge were open — it wasn’t at first — or even the Dumbarton Bridge?

Some wanted the World Series stopped right there. Vincent, alluding to Winston Churchill insisting the cinemas in London be kept open during blitz to create a sense of normalcy, intended to continue.

Ten days after the quake, with a group of rescue workers, police and firemen tossing out ceremonial first pitches, baseball was back. But not for long. The A’s won two more and swept the Series.

Twenty years ago, a time of joy and grief.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award — given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football — he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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Wednesday, October 14th, 2009

RealClearSports: Wooden Wins a Big One, No. 99

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

He couldn’t win the big one. That was the criticism of John Wooden. Fifty years ago.

Times change. Perceptions change. Integrity never changes.

Couldn’t win the big one.

Wooden was in his formative years at UCLA, a team competent enough in the old Pacific Coast Conference and its successor, the AAWU. But in the tournament, there was USF with Bill Russell, or Santa Clara with Ken Sears, and the Bruins were eliminated.

Then they began to eliminate everybody else. Starting in 1964, UCLA won all the big ones, won 88 games in a row, won seven NCAA championships in a row, and John Wooden earned a reputation he’s never lost as the finest college basketball coach in history.

The great man, the “Wizard of Westwood” — a phrase Wooden still dislikes; it came from the title of a book by Dwight Chapin and the late Jeff Prugh — turns 99 today, October 14. Ninety-nine, one short of a century.

Sadly, he is looking his age, frail, fighting through one ailment after another, the sort of problems not uncommon to those who make it to their ninth decade.

Delightfully, he never acts his age. He hates being pushed in a wheelchair. Doesn’t want to be fussed over.

“I’m embarrassed not being able to get around,” he said a while back. “I don’t like it.”

Who does? In our minds, it’s always yesterday, always a time of youth, when we never imagined what the future would be, never dreamed those old guys would be us.

The India Rubber Man someone called Wooden. He was the All-America from Purdue in the early 1930s. He would hit the floor and bounce up. Then he would hit a basket.

He became an English teacher and a coach. No, he became The Coach. After serving as a naval lieutenant in World War II.

UCLA hired him from Indiana State in 1948. He headed west and almost headed back to Indiana. Life in southern California, call it the “Hollywood Effect,” was unsettling. Wooden considered leaving not long after he arrived.

But he still was there when I entered in 1956, a freshman on the school paper, the Daily Bruin, sent to interview Wooden in less than elegant campus surroundings, a spartan office in a wooden bungalow maybe 150 yards from an antiquated gym so small (2,500 seats) and so closed-in it was, in a word-play on the Tennessee Williams drama, nicknamed “The Sweatbox Named Perspire.”

Wooden was polite if impatient. Businesslike. Efficient. The Pyramid of Success, now marketed, was attached to the wall. He had his ideas. When he would get his players, Walt Hazzard (Mahdi Abdul-Rahman) and Gail Goodrich, Lew Alcindor (Kareem Abdul-Jabbar) and Bill Walton, the ideas were brilliant.

Twenty-seven years, 10 NCAA titles, 620 wins, 147 defeats. UCLA finally got its building, Pauley Pavilion, in 1965, and Wooden finally got an office worthy of his status. But deep down, he was still the no-nonsense guy from Middle America.

For many years, Wooden has lived in an unpretentious San Fernando Valley condominium that is more museum than residence. Memories, homilies and most of all awards are on virtually every inch of the walls, atop every desk, table or trophy cabinet.

There is a letter from Richard Nixon, a bobblehead doll of Tommy Lasorda, a Yankees cap from Derek Jeter, a photo montage of John Stockton, of whom Wooden wistfully noted, “Was the last player in the NBA to wear shorts, not bloomers.”

He has books about Mother Teresa, a Medal of Freedom award from George W. Bush, a football autographed by Don Shula and, of course, photos of the UCLA teams he coached to titles before retiring in 1975.

“Nell arranged those pictures in the Pyramid of Success,” explained Wooden, alluding to his wife, who died in 1985. “I didn’t like that, but I wasn’t going to change anything she did.”

Nell Riley was the only girl John Wooden of Martinsville, Indiana ever dated. There’s a framed photo, leaning against a wall, of the two of them, John 16, Nell 16. The love of his life, to whom he still writes a letter the 21st of every month.

Her name is alongside his on the basketball floor at Pauley. It was the only way he would allow the court to be dedicated, to both of them.

Wooden is a baseball fan. He would come to UCLA games when they still played at a utilitarian facility on the land where Pauley was erected and harass the opponents, a classic “bench jockey,” insulting but never obscene. Wooden can talk about Babe Ruth. Or about Barry Bonds.

John Wooden knew. John Wooden knows. In 99 years, he hasn’t missed much. Including winning the big one.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award — given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football — he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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© RealClearSports 2009

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Wednesday, October 14th, 2009

SF Examiner: The day the Battle of the Bay was rocked

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

It began with more sound than fury, a rumbling as if every fan at Candlestick Park was stomping their feet. Up in the second deck, where tables had been knocked together to serve as an auxiliary press box, the man alongside choked out a question.

“What’s that?” asked Rob Matwick, now an executive with the Texas Rangers.

Twenty years ago, he was the public relations director for the Houston Astros. He had never experienced what he was about to experience. Neither had anyone.

“An earthquake,” I answered flippantly.

Then as the grandstand vibrated and the noise exploded, Matwick, panicky, gasped, “Is it a bad one?” Soberly, I responded, “Yeah, it’s bad.”

We know the date: Oct. 17, 1989. We know the time: 5:04 p.m. We know the setting: Game 3 of the World Series between the Giants and A’s. We know the result, dozens killed, billions of dollars in damage, a Richter reading of 6.9.

Candlestick, nicknamed the “The ninth blunder of the world,” by the late, great Herb Caen, was a terrible place for baseball. “Blow it up,” was one man’s slogan. But when that quake hit, loathed, belittled Candlestick held firm. As do the memories across two decades.

When the quake stopped, the chanting started, “Play ball, play ball.” But they could not play. Power was out in The City. They would not play. The A’s and Giants were scattering from the clubhouses onto the diamond, looking into the stands for loved ones.

The first two games of what was nicknamed the Bay Bridge Series had been won, easily, by the A’s in Oakland. Someone had hung a bed sheet sign from the upper deck at Candlestick before Game 3: “I am the Giant. I will be heard.”

What we heard was a giant of another sort. One that tumbled freeways and severed a section of the Bay Bridge. One that had journalists wondering whether the 86th World Series should be resumed, which it was 10 days later.

The A’s had dressed at the Coliseum and traveled to San Francisco by bus. The quake created chaos. There was a famous photo of Jose Canseco in his uniform, pumping gas somewhere down the Peninsula, the car having been driven over by his wife at the time.

That first night San Francisco was dark, without any lights. Hotel elevators didn’t run. Visiting sportswriters hiked up pitch-black stairwells. The day after the quake, a candlelit press conference with baseball commissioner Fay Vincent was held at the St. Francis Hotel on Powell Street.

A few days later, Joe DiMaggio appeared in the rubble of the Marina district, waiting in line with others, to check on a residence owned by his family.

Baseball resumed Friday, Oct. 27. Ceremonial pitches were thrown by 12 public servants and rescue workers, one of whom, Steve Whipple, had seen Buck Helm alive in the wreckage of the Nimitz Freeway.

We sang, “San Francisco open your Golden Gate.” Someone held a sign, “Most Valuable Park, Candlestick, No Crumble Under Pressure.”

The Series was back, if not for long. The A’s swept. They were champions. It almost didn’t matter. We were survivors. Which did matter.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

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Monday, October 12th, 2009

SF Examiner: Spectacle of Presidents Cup comes to a close

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

And so the golfing gods depart, the marquees come down and Harding Park, the little muni that could, goes from Tiger and Phil to a lot of neighborhood Joes, which is as it should be on a public golf course.

The weather wasn’t quite what was expected — brrr! — the competition was less than hoped, but The Presidents Cup was four days of memories and birdies. That ain’t bad.

Once again the United States was a winner against the international team, this time 19½ points to 14½ — not exactly a shock when the top three players in the world rankings are Americans and they play like the top three players in the world rankings.

Tiger Woods, No. 1 on the list, was a winner in all five of his matches; Phil Mickelson, No. 2, had four wins and a tie; and No. 3 Steve Stricker was 4-1.

“That’s what you expect out of your No. 1 player in the world,” Greg Norman, the international team’s captain, said of Woods. “You need him to step up to the plate. And sometimes he hasn’t done that, [but] this time he did do it.”

This time he teamed with Stricker to win their two foursomes and two four-ball matches. And then Sunday on his own, in what some called revenge for the stunning outcome of the PGA Championship in August, Woods crushed Y.E. Yang of Korea 6 and 5 in one of the 12 singles.

When Lincecum and Cain pitch shutouts, the Giants can’t lose. When Mickelson and Tiger pitched virtual shutouts, the U.S. couldn’t lose.

“I needed him — it sounds stupid — to go 5-0,” Fred Couples, the U.S. captain, said of Tiger’s perfection. 

The event needed him to provide the cachet of a high-level attraction, which The Presidents Cup certainly was.

If San Francisco didn’t exactly need the match-play event to verify its status as a world-class city, it still was a welcome addition.

Big-time golf makes such infrequent appearances in the West — although the U.S. Open will be at Pebble Beach next year and San Francisco’s Olympic Club in 2012 — that The Presidents Cup became a special presence in The City.

Yes, there are cable cars that climb halfway to the stars, but how often do guys such as Tiger, Ernie Els and Geoff Ogilvy walk the fairways out beyond Twin Peaks?

America again had a home-nation advantage in winning the event for the sixth time in eight chances. But Norman, the Aussie who grew up playing Royal Melbourne — where the tournament will be in 2011 — pointed out that the Harding crowd gave support to the international team, if not as fully as to the U.S. squad.

“I think it was a 70-30 split,” Norman said. “That would be expected here in San Francisco. We have a lot of ex-pats from around the world. Asian nations are represented very well here. There were a lot of Australians, and I saw a lot of Canadians out there and a lot of South Africans wearing their rugby jerseys.”

If Norman was impressed with the gallery, he was no less impressed with the venue. “I think,” he said of Harding, “with just a few minor adjustments it could be a magnificent course worthy of holding a PGA or a U.S. Open championship.”

Norman has no idea whether he will be asked to repeat as captain, but everybody has the idea Ryo Ishikawa of Japan is going to be one of the game’s best. In a match crossing generations and cultures, the 18-year-old on Sunday beat America’s 49-year-old Kenny Perry, 2 and 1. Ishikawa had three wins and two defeats.

Sean O’Hair of the U.S. — who had been coached during the week by Michael Jordan on intensity, and by Tiger and Phil on putting — overwhelmed Ernie Els, winning 6 and 4.

“I always enjoy getting advice,” said O’Hair, the team’s rookie. “Tiger always has been a friend of mine, and it was good to play Saturday with Phil. I learned so much about reading greens.”

Mickelson, a 2 and 1 winner against Retief Goosen, was elated when his wife, Amy — receiving treatments near San Diego for breast cancer — arrived Saturday.

“That was awesome,” Mickelson said. “What a wonderful surprise.”

The way he, Tiger and Stricker played also was wonderful, but it hardly was a surprise. They’re the top three in world rankings. And they played like it.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

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Copyright 2009 SF Newspaper Company 

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Saturday, October 10th, 2009

SF Examiner: Stricker’s comeback lands him on Team Tiger

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

He’s seen as the other guy, the accompaniment to the main act, part of a twosome which some might consider a single. Steve Stricker was Tiger Woods’ partner in all four Presidents Cup team matches, an accessory, perhaps, also a necessity.

A man who almost left the game, Stricker, 42, has no ego problems. And of late, after twice winning the Comeback of the Year Award and this year having won three times and moving to third in the world rankings, no golf problems either.

The person assigned to join Tiger, especially in the alternate-shot, foursomes format, has to understand it’s not going to be a walk at Harding Park. The fans are there to see Woods. Saturday morning they were yelling, “Hey, Tiger.” No reference to Stricker.

But he and Tiger work well together. And when Tiger holes a 22-foot birdie putt 17 and then rips a 3-iron onto the green for his second shot on the 18th to set up Stricker’s eagle putt, Steve just smiles. “I have a front row seat,” said Stricker. “We all know what he does.”

What the two of them did was win the final two holes of the foursomes to beat Mike Weir and Tim Clark of the Internationals, 1 up.

When a few weeks back Stricker briefly was atop the standings of the FedEx Cup, eventually won by Tiger, Steve said, “We’re taking up space in [Tiger’s] world, but I’m thrilled to death to be playing how I’m playing.”

Especially after never finishing better than 151st on the PGA Tour money list from 2003-05.

His wife, Nicki, once his caddy, was home with their two young children. He was feeling sorry for himself, was ready to quit.

“I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do the rest of my life,” he said once. “I didn’t have the desire that I really needed to play this game … Then at the end of the 2005 season, I went back to Tour school, didn’t make it and just kind of rededicated myself to work harder.”

Obviously, it worked far better than anyone might have imagined.

“I think we approach the game with the same mentality,” said Tiger of Stricker. “We just play it differently. I hit the ball a little farther. But our mentality and how we play and compete is exactly the same.”

Stricker, who grew up in Wisconsin but went to the University of Illinois, also has the right mental approach to be Tiger’s teammate.

“It’s been a blast,” said Stricker. “I hope he’s not sick of me.”

Nobody gets sick of winning.

Local legends make return to Harding

They had come home, in a sense, back to the course where long ago they had perfected the game. Ken Venturi and Johnny Miller were at Harding Park, for them a place of history and memories.

Each graduated from Lincoln High, a few miles away from Harding. Each had gone on to win a U.S. Open. Now Miller, 62, was working The Presidents Cup as NBC’s co-lead announcer with Dan Hicks, while Venturi, 78, was in attendance to observe and remember.

The trophy case inside the entrance to Harding’s Sandy Tatum clubhouse is dominated by the huge cup Venturi earned in the famous San Francisco City Championship of 1956, when he defeated E. Harvie Ward in a finals watched by 10,000 people.

Miller told the TV audience he used to fish in Lake Merced off the edge of the 18th hole, which for The Presidents Cup was played as the 15th hole.

“I followed him,” Miller said of Venturi who later was a commentator for CBS, “in his two careers, as a golfer and an announcer.”
Venturi, won the U.S. Open in 1964, the last year two rounds were held the final day, surviving 90-degree temperatures at Washington’s Congressional Club. Miller’s title came nine years later at Oakmont outside Pittsburgh.

It was fitting Venturi’s final tour victory was at the 1966 Lucky International at Harding, where his father once had been the pro. Miller never won at Harding but he did at Pebble Beach and Silverado in Napa.

On target

Despite an unseasonably cold, cloudy Saturday, another sellout crowd of some 28,000 — including Condoleezza Rice and former U.S. Open winner Juli Inkster — swarmed about Harding Park to watch The Presidents Cup. Support from Northern California sports fans has been overwhelming for this second of the five golf events promised to Harding Park over a 15-year span after $16 million was spent for improvements on the public course.

Who said it

Steve Stricker

Tiger Woods holed a 22-foot birdie putt on 17 in the morning after Steve Stricker’s relatively poor bunker shot and squared the match against Mike Weir and Tim Clark. Asked how he continues to come through, Woods quipped, “Luck.” Not exactly.  Stricker  said, “He kept telling me we are going to win. He was calling it all the way. Believing is one thing, and he pulled off some great shots at the end.”

Jim Furyk

“I love playing with Justin,” was Jim Furyk’s comment after he and Justin Leonard beat Ernie Els and Adam Scott, 4 and 2, in foursomes. “But we split up in the afternoon. We hit the ball so much alike. You need someone who plays totally different. Anthony [Kim] and I are two different people who get along great.” They also played strong against Scott and Angel Cabrera in four-ball.

Match to watch

Who else but Tiger Woods? Teaming with Steve Stricker, so far he is 4-0 in two foursomes, two fourballs. Today Tiger and the 23 others on both teams play singles, match play. Woods is 3-2 overall in five previous Presidents Cup singles, his losses coming in the last two Cups, to Retief Goosen of South Africa in 2005 and Mike Weir in 2007. After Saturday, he is 9-2-1 in foursomes, or alternate shot competition.

By the numbers

Total singles matches that will be played today: 12

Tiger Woods’ career Presidents Cup singles record entering today: 3-2

Vijay Singh’s career Presidents Cup singles record entering today: 1-4-2

To see The Examiner’s complete coverage of the Presidents Cup go to http://www.sfexaminer.com/sports/presidentscup/

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Saturday, October 10th, 2009

SF Examiner: Leonard takes his shots

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

It was a matter of shots for Justin Leonard. The kind you hit. The kind you drink. Or make people think you’re drinking.

Leonard had a good Friday in the Presidents Cup. Teamed with Phil Mickelson to win their four-ball match at Harding Park. Helped the United States stay in front on Day 2, in effect ending up where it began, with three victories and three losses to the Internationals.

A lead that was 3 ½ -2 ½ after Thursday’s alternate shot foursomes was 6 1/2 to 5 ½ after Friday’s four-balls. A total of 17 /2 points is needed to win the Cup, which has five foursomes and five four-ball matches today and 12 singles Sunday.

Thursday, Leonard, a great putter, missed a 2-3 footer for a birdie on the 18th green, costing a victory and half a point. Leonard and Jim Furyk halving the match with Retief Goosen and Y.E. Yang.

“I was pretty mad at myself,’’ said Leonard. “Pretty upset. I went to the putting green and hit some putts and cooled off a bit. Then I told a little joke in the team to to let everybody know I was OK.’’

Then Leonard, not exactly known for his sense of humor, pulled a big joke. He had Furyk’s caddy, Fluff Cowan, line up glasses at the bar of what appeared to be vodka but was only water.

“I went in,’’ said Leonard, “slammed the door, threw my stuff down and walked over to the bar and took these five shots like they were nothing and then slammed a beer. The beer was real and tasted good.’’

His wife, Amanda, was in on it. Unlike some others.

“I think,’’ said Leonard, “a couple of wives thought, ‘Wow. He’s really into this.’ But it was all in good fun, and I just wanted to show everybody that I was good.’’

He was more than good.  He was excellent. With the match Friday all square after 12 holes, Mickelson won 13 with a birdie and then Leonard won 14 and 16 with birdies.

“”We had a great partnership,’’ said Mickelson. “He came back after finishing the way (he did) Thursday night. He showed a lot of heart today.’’

Tiger Woods and Steve Stricker showed a lot brilliance. They whipped the Internationals Geoff Ogilvy and Angel Cabrera, 5 and 3. After smashing Ogilvy and Reyo Ishikawa, 6 and 4, on Thursday.

“Steve and I get along well together,’’ said Woods. “In this format you have to make a bunch of birdies and we did most of the day.’’

Only once during the day did Tim Clark make eagle, a 3, but it came at 18 and gave him and Vijay Singh a 1 up win over Stewart Cink and Lucas Glover to keep the Internationals where they started, one point behind.

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Friday, October 9th, 2009

RealClearSports: Tiger Is a Majority of One

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

SAN FRANCISCO — This is a team event. This is when golf makes it “us” against “them,” country against country, or more specifically in the Presidents Cup, one country, the United States, against a group of them combined, Australia and Japan, South Africa and South America.

And yet this four-day competition held at a muni course on the western edge of San Francisco, Harding Park, a muni course that is not very far from the San Andreas Fault and very near the Pacific Ocean is not much different than most tournaments.

It’s all about Tiger Woods.

He’s only one player on a 12-man American team, a group that includes Phil Mickelson, Steve Stricker and two of this year’s major champions, Lucas Glover and Stewart Cink. But as always, Tiger is a majority of one.

He’s the focus. He’s the main man. In press conferences, where he’s practically invisible behind a wall of television cameras. On the fairways, where his galleries dwarf those of other players.

Tiger brings them in. Michael Jordan, his pal, is an unofficial assistant captain, chosen by Fred Couples as much because he is Tiger’s confidant as anything else, is at Harding. So is Barry Bonds, back in the area where he grew up and played. So is the great Jerry West, a scratch golfer himself.

The event is special. San Francisco knows its place among the globe’s chosen cities. Narcissism is not exactly unknown among the citizenry. When there’s news breaking, no matter what the story and where the location, the live shot is always of someone standing with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. Unless it’s the Bay Bridge in the background.

But this Presidents Cup is special. Because in the last 20 years, since the Earthquake World Series, there have been only two notable sporting events that actually took place in the region: the 1998 U.S. Open and the 2002 World Series.

And because Tiger Woods is playing.

He once went to school at Stanford, but that was 13 years ago, before the legend had been established. Tiger doesn’t come around here very much any more. But he’s here now. So is the Presidents Cup.

On Day 1, Thursday, Woods teamed with Steve Stricker, who might be described as the anti-Tiger. Stricker is pure Midwest, quiet, unassuming, content to play the game and earn his money. A good guy. A very good golfer. But not the sort who has fans chanting his name. As they chant Tiger’s.

Northern California weather can be mysterious. You’re familiar with the line that Mark Twain probably didn’t say but no matter who did say it is wonderfully accurate, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.”

Earlier in the week it was among the warmest autumns anyone had ever spent in San Francisco. But the fog and chill arrived just before the first tee time. So there was Tiger, who doesn’t like long sleeves because they restrict his swing, in a long-sleeve sweater.

Bright red. For the U.S.A. But, as locals noted, for Stanford.

Team golf is a bizarre animal. There’s four-ball or better ball, in which two guys from, say, the U.S. play two guys from the Internationals. All four balls are in play. And the golfer who takes the fewest strokes wins the hole for his team.

But on Thursday, the game was foursomes, or alternate shots. That meant Tiger hit the drive, then Stricker the next shot, then Tiger the next shot and so on until the one ball they were playing was holed out. It’s a form of torture when your teammate hits into a bunker or the rough and you are forced to make up for his wildness.

When John McEnroe still was active, the toss-out line around tennis was that the best doubles team in the world was McEnroe and whoever was his partner that day. Same thing, in foursomes, with Tiger.

In the match-play format, meaning every hole is a separate entity and a match is over when one side leads by more holes than remain, Woods and Stricker overwhelmed Geoff Ogilvy and Ryo Ishikawa, 6 and 4. That’s like beating someone by three touchdowns.

Woods now has the best foursomes record of anyone in the nine years of Presidents Cup play, eight wins, two losses and a half.

“I felt a little extra pressure going out today,” said Stricker. “I was comfortable having Tiger as a partner, but I wanted to make sure he was comfortable having me as a partner because I didn’t want to feel he had to hold up my end as well as his end.”

Tiger Woods will hold up both ends and the middle. He’s a big reason the Presidents Cup is a sellout. He’s a big reason the U.S. has the first-day lead.

“Where’s Tiger?” some breathless fan asked when he and Stricker were still in the distance.

Where’s Tiger? Where he always is. By himself in the world of sport.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award — given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football — he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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Friday, October 9th, 2009

SF Examiner: Americans generate momentum early on

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

SAN FRANCISCO — It doesn’t get much better than this. For the world’s best golfers. For a muni called Harding Park. For a sellout crowd which knows this sort of an event may never come along again in San Francisco.

Day 1 of The Presidents Cup on Thursday offered more sunshine than expected, as many close matches as anticipated, not quite as much success from the International team as hoped and, naturally, a brilliant showing from one Eldrick “Tiger” Woods.

Tiger and Steve Stricker were anything but the odd couple in the foursomes, the alternate shot competition, crushing Geoff Ogilvy, the Australian, and Japan’s teenage “Shy Prince,” Ryo Ishikawa, 6 and 4.

They used to say the best tennis doubles team in the world was John McEnroe and anyone else. In foursomes, where one man hits a shot, and the other the next shot and so on until the ball in is in the hole, that would apply to Woods. He now is 8-2-1 in Presidents Cup foursomes.

“It’s just one of those things,” said Tiger, “where you’ve got to make birdies at the right time and make a lot of them.”
What the International team, the Aussies, Japanese, South Americans, South Africans, Koreans, Canadians and Fijians, didn’t do was win enough matches.

The Americans, despite a yanked putt by Justin Leonard on the final hole of the final match which dropped him and Jim Furyk into a tie, still took the lead 3½ points to 2½.

The Internationals have won only once in the previous eight competitions, and as Ogilvy of Australia had contended, to make this tournament a rivalry instead of an exhibition, the Internationals need to do something other than just show up. After Thursday, that probably isn’t going to happen.

“The game can be cruel,” said Greg Norman, the International captain — a man who having blown Masters tournaments and had a British Open and PGA snatched from him knows how cruel.

“We are not too despondent about today,” said Ernie Els, who combined with Adam Scott for one of the two International wins. “That’s one of the better starts we’d had, believe it or not, the last three Cups.”

At one of the better venues, according to Phil Mickelson of the U.S., who teamed with Anthony Kim for a 3 and 2 win over Mike Weir and Tim Clark.

“It’s a really wonderful course,” said Mickelson, “and it’s perfect for this event.”

There was an imperfection from someone in the gallery who, when Ogilvy was about to putt at three yelled, “Noonan,” a term from “Caddyshack,” which translates as “Miss it.”

“Tiger,” said Stricker, “did the classy thing and apologized.”

Why are we not surprised?

 

Celebrity turnout at Cup boosts energy

The people watching Thursday’s first round of The Presidents Cup were no less recognizable than the people playing. In the gallery or in a golf cart were, of course, Michael Jordan, who U.S. captain Fred Couples invited for moral support, fellow basketball superstar Jerry West and ex-Giant Barry Bonds.

Jordan has talked about going on the pro golf tour, and on Wednesday was teeing it up at Olympic Club, across the road from Harding Park where he returned Thursday. West was a scratch golfer at Bel-Air Country Club in Los Angeles. Barry can play well enough.

“I think it’s good for the game of golf,” said Tiger Woods of the celebs, most of whom were watching Tiger and partner Steve Stricker. “The great sports figures have all come out here and supported golf. It couldn’t be any more positive than that.”

Phil Mickelson, a big-time fan, particularly of his hometown San Diego Chargers, said, “It’s cool to have those figures out supporting the game of golf, and it’s cool we could have somebody like Michael Jordan bring a lot to the table for our team.

“I think that shows the extent or the reach golf is starting to have.”

Bonds, who just finished his second year out of baseball, resides now in Beverly Hills but is a Bay Area native. “I’ll be here for the whole event,” was Barry’s Presidents Cup promise.

 

On target

Justin Leonard, remembered for the huge putt which gave the U.S. the lead in the 1999 Ryder Cup, missed a 3-foot birdie putt on the 18th green in Thursday’s final match. That cost the Americans the hole and dropped Leonard and partner Jim Fuyrk into a tie, all square, with Retief Goosen and Y.E. Yang, with each side getting half a point. Leading 2 up after 16, Leonard and Furyk lost both 17 and 18 to birdies.

 

Who said it

Tiger Woods
The No. 1-ranked golfer and Steve Stricker never trailed in scoring a 6 and 4 win over the Internationals’ Geoff Ogilvy and Ryo Ishikawa. “We didn’t give these guys a chance to get into the match,” Woods said after walking off the 14th green at Harding. “We put the hammer down pretty good.” They took the lead with a birdie at two, followed with a birdie at three and were at least two up the rest of the way.

Phil Mickelson
Lefty and Anthony Kim won the par-4 sixth hole with a bogey. Kim, driving, hooked the ball only 180 yards off the tee. Then Mike Weir, teamed with Tim Clark, bounced one off a cart path about 160 yards. “They hit a few more trees,” said Mickelson, “and when it was all said and done we both had 5-footers for bogeys. We made ours. They missed theirs.”

 

Match to watch

It’s fourball today, or better ball, with the low score from either player counting on each hole. The final grouping at 11:55 a.m., is Geoff Ogilvy and Angel Cabrera of the Internationals against Tiger Woods and Steve Stricker of the U.S. Stricker-Woods whipped Ogilvy-Ryo Ishikawa, 6 and 4, Thursday in foursomes, but Tiger has the most four-ball losses, seven, (he’s 3-7 overall) of anyone in Presidents Cup play.

 

By the numbers

3 Matches that went to the 18th hole Thursday
0 Holes Geoff Ogilvy and Ryo Ishikawa won against Tiger Woods and Steve Stricker
6 Birdies Woods and Stricker produced during their 6 and 4 victory

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

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Thursday, October 8th, 2009

SF Examiner: The City provides the ideal golf backdrop

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

SAN FRANCISCO — Enjoy it, Tiger, and Y.E., and Geoff. This is your week in the city that knows how, the city that takes on recessions and earthquakes and never quits, a city which thinks like a golfer two-down at the 17th tee: How are we going to hang in there?

This is your week and our week, a week to appreciate talent and celebrate sportsmanship.

What a brilliant blending, an “only in San Francisco” mix, millionaire athletes playing their game on a public course, Harding Park, a facility open to all in a city which is never closed to any.

We love our golf. We love our sports. We love our diversity.

That The Presidents Cup matches, which start Thursday, involve players from America and Australia, Korea and South Africa, Canada and South America, and Japan and Fiji, couldn’t be more appropriate for a region with dozens of cultures.

A region brought to life by pioneers who crossed the mountains and sailed around Cape Horn, by Latinos whose ancestors followed Father Serra, by Asians who crossed the sea to build railroads.

It’s different here by the Bay, by the Pacific, different in Oakland and Berkeley, different in Marin and San Jose. We’ve been there, done that, but we never can get enough.

We’ve had teams win Rose Bowls and Super Bowls, had U.S. Opens at the Olympic Club, saw Ben Hogan stunned by Jack Fleck, the Washington Bullets stunned by the Warriors. We’ve had World Series, including the most infamous of them all, 20 years ago, when we were shaken physically, but never shaken symbolically.

Now it’s 20 years after the A’s-Giants World Series, the Earthquake Series, and The Presidents Cup, with Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson, Y.E. Yang and Geoff Ogilvy, arguably is the biggest sporting attraction in the Bay Area since then, along with the ’02 World Series and the ’98 U.S. Open at Olympic.

The weather is spectacular. The scenery is great.

“A beautiful place,” said Ogilvy, the Aussie who won the 2006 U.S. Open. “Stunning. We should play on the West Coast more often.”

The celebrities are impressive — President Bill Clinton and Michael Jordan for a start. During the practice round Wednesday, caddies for the U.S. squad wore jerseys from the Giants’ road uniforms, the grays with “San Francisco” on the front.

Steve Williams, Tiger’s guy, had No. 24. Not a bad twosome, T. Woods and Willie Mays. We do know how to put on a show, if a subtle one.

We have our faults: San Andreas, Loma Prieta. We have our priorities — right down the middle, guys.

No matter who wins this Presidents Cup, there will be no losers. In San Francisco there never are, no matter the final score.

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

Thursday’s matches

FOURSOMES

12:10 p.m.: Mike Weir and Tim Clark, International, vs. Anthony Kim and Phil Mickelson, United States 
12:22 p.m.: Adam Scott and Ernie Els, International, vs. Hunter Mahan and Sean O’Hair, United States 
12:34 p.m.: Vijay Singh and Robert Allenby, International, vs. Lucas Glover and Stewart Cink, United States 
12:46 p.m.: Angel Cabrera and Camilo Villegas, International, vs. Kenny Perry and Zach Johnson, United States 
12:58 p.m.: Geoff Ogilvy and Ryo Ishikawa, International, vs. Tiger Woods and Steve Stricker, United States 
1:10 p.m.: Retief Goosen and Y.E. Yang, International, vs. Jim Furyk and Justin Leonard, United States

To see The Examiner’s complete coverage of the Presidents Cup go to http://www.sfexaminer.com/sports/presidentscup/

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Wednesday, October 7th, 2009

RealClearSports: Favre’s Too Old? Too Spectacular

By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.com

So do you still think Brett Favre should have retired?

Not a bad evening for the man. Too old? Too spectacular.

We worry about others more than about ourselves. We’re always giving advice but rarely listening to advice. Maybe we should just shut up.

That goes for sports journalists, writers, announcers, former players. The whole lot of us virtually demanded Favre give it up. Insisted he was making a fool of himself, was embarrassing the NFL.

Favre didn’t hurt anyone. If you don’t include the Green Bay Packers.

He’s a football player who wants to play football. Disingenuous? Flip-flopping? That’s trivial stuff. The way he passed against Green Bay is not.

There’s a lyric from “South Pacific,” a show that even predates Brett Favre: “…So suppose a dame ain’t bright or completely free from flaws, or as faithful as bird dog or as kind as Santa Claus. It’s a waste of time to worry over things that they have not; be thankful for the things they’ve got.”

Be thankful for what Brett Favre still has, which is a remarkable ability to throw a football, an unfulfilled passion for competing at football.

He will be 40 before this week is finished. The term “graybeard” is descriptive, not only a cliché reference. But he’s young as springtime when he’s given time in the pocket. When he can thread a ball through defenders.

The Packers didn’t want him after the 2007 season, not under his terms. It was a painful separation. But once he took his leave, Favre was under no obligation to walk away from the game.

We carry images in our mind. We hated to see Joe Namath stumble when he spent that season with the Rams, winced when Johnny Unitas tried to hold on after he joined the Chargers. It’s not so much what the veterans do to themselves, but what they do to us.

We want to remember the homecoming queen when she was 21, not when she was 61.

Yet Favre at 39 is as memorable as Favre at 29. A father could poke his 7-year-old Monday night, assuming the kid hadn’t gone to sleep, and tell him, “You’re watching history, son.” Because Brett Favre indeed is history.

An athlete is only what he can produce, only what his body allows. It was Joe Montana, the great 49ers quarterback, the winner of four Super Bowls, who had a ready answer when someone asked why he didn’t quit. “What do you have to prove?” was what someone wanted to know from Joe.

Nothing, in effect. Except for himself, to himself.

“When I retire, I won’t be coming back,” Montana had explained. “I’m not like an accountant who can take a sabbatical. So I’m going to keep going as long as I feel like I can play and I enjoy it.”

No regrets. That’s the essence. No wondering what might have been. Just do it until you no longer can do it. And then don’t look back.

You know there are individuals who wanted Brett Favre to make a mess of things. Individuals who were aching to say, “I told you so.” What are they saying now?

That despite their misgivings, their disenchantment, Brett Favre is a champion, a player who makes other players better, a player who makes teams better.

The Vikings knew all about Brett Favre. They had lost to him more than enough. They saw him as the one who could be the leader, be the winner. So far, they are correct in their assessment.

We can never be sure when an athlete is done. A change of scenery, a new outlook, a revised dedication may resuscitate a career. We’re too eager to write an ending. There, it’s over, so go about your business and get away from us.

A Sports Illustrated article by the wordsmith Selena Roberts questioned Tiger Woods’ future. In a year when Tiger came back from knee surgery, a year when he won six tournaments but not a major, he suddenly was on the downside and probably never would catch Jack Nicklaus’ record of 18 majors. What?

Tiger is only 33, and to conclude his golf had reached a plateau is wild thinking. Maybe Selena is right. Most likely she’s wrong. Nicklaus himself went three years without a major and then started winning them again with great frequency.

Tiger’s going to be around a long while. So is Brett Favre — he looked brilliant against Green Bay, looked like someone who deserved to be given the chance to work his magic.

Tiger Woods didn’t suddenly lose his touch. Brett Favre never may lose his touch.

The great ones need listen only to themselves.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award — given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football — he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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