Murphy's Law

Let’s hear it for the 2009 golf season - The Year of the "Say What?" tournament.

Or, as it's known by its alternate name, The Year of the "You Gotta Be Bleeping Kidding Me" tournament.

What in the name of YE Yang is going on around here? First, Lucas Glover kissed the US Open trophy, then 59-year-old Tom Watson nearly blew our doors off at Turnberry.

Somewhere in heaven, Orville Moody is buying a round.

Your latest entry in the YOSW (Year of the "Say What?", in case you forgot) sweepstakes is one Heath Slocum, who was such a party-crasher at an invite-only event, you'd have figured Tiger, Ernie and Padraig sent security over to have Slocum's credentials checked.

Those credentials would have shown Slocum to be one of those names you always see on the fringes of leaderboards; one of those names that makes you think, "Heath Slocum...why do I know that name?," until you realize that unless you were the tournament director of the 2004 Tucson Open or the 2005 Southern Farm Bureau Classic - his only wins - you don't know that name. Boo Weekley knows the name, but that's because they went to high school together.

And yet, there was Slocum, carving out a final-round 67 and making an improbable 21-footer for par on the 72nd hole to win The Barclays by one shot over three Hall of Famers - Tiger, Ernie and Padraig - not to mention the Cheesehead Hall of Famer, Steve Stricker.

Even Lady Liberty, shining in the harbor nearby, was overheard by tourists to say: Heath Slocum? Say what?

There's no rhyme or reason to a Slocum win over the titans, coming from four shots back Sunday, to boot; no greater meaning to be divined, other than this is what happens when you a) hold enough golf tournaments; and b) let Tiger Woods start missing putts.

So, cheers to Slocum, who should enjoy his $1.35 million check and newfound FedEx Cup status points while the rest of the golf world frets over a more pressing issue. Namely, who kidnapped Tiger and put this guy who can't putt in his place?

Two weeks ago, we addressed the elephant in the living room, raising the question: Tiger doesn't have to make EVERY big putt in a big moment, does he? Old-timers will tell you Arnold Palmer started missing some in his mid-30s, as did Watson.

It can happen, and while we're a long way from Tiger's putter being declared DOA., we are at the end of a summer where his putter no-showed at Bethpage, where he missed everything of import at Hazeltine, and where his six-footer on the 72nd hole at Liberty National to tie for the lead never touched the cup.

Even Lady Liberty, shining in the harbor nearby, was overheard by tourists to say: Tiger missed a 6-footer with the tourney on the line? Say what?

It was that kind of day.

So the FedEx Cup gave us something to chew on - I mean, besides the fact that the private club at which The Barclays was played both requires a half-million initiation fee and is built on a former toxic waste dump.

Sure, Liberty National was gorgeous on the TV with all those Manhattan skyline shots, but when a golf club is in Jersey City, and when we're told it's a former toxic waste dump, it's hard to concentrate on the golf without thinking of names like Gotti, Hoffa and Soprano making use of the old land for, ahem, "clearance".

No wonder Tiger had such trouble reading the greens. Who knows what, ahem, "objects" were buried under those mounds?

I mean, how many US PGA Tour courtesy cars were parked at "The Bing" this weekend?

So the FedEx Cup playoffs are off and humming, and while the obvious criticisms still hold - they'll never be as important as the Majors; once the NFL starts, we'll all turn away; and the whole thing seems an obscene money grab - we must give credit where it's due.

The FedEx Cup playoffs have Tiger out of his lair for what appears to be four out of five weeks, and that's saying something. Last year, of course, he was out with the knee surgery. And two years ago, he blithely blew off one of the events, mostly to just remind Tim Finchem who the real Commish is.

This year he may play all four, and that says one of two things: 1. He really wants to fix that putter; or 2. Having two rugrats running around the house in Florida might call for a little R&R on the golf course.