Clinton, S.C., Saturday, July 20, 2013, 12:38 p.m.
I really enjoy watching golf’s major championships, and I truly couldn’t care less about any of the other tournaments.
I watch like Angel Cabrera plays.
Perhaps it’s because I don’t play the game anymore, having discarded the clubs in the garage, now heavily coated by dust, shortly after the moment I started getting the hang of the guitar.
I’m nothing special on guitar, but compared to my golf resume, I’m Jimi Chet Paul Willie Vaughan Clapton.
Do players experience these epic collapses in the Lunesta Pure Michigan Classic by Lifebuoy? If so, they seldom weep over it.
What is the net? No, not the Internet. The net effect of the Internet. The net of the Net.
When I sit in front of the TV with my aging iPhone – an iPhone is, of course, ancient at six months – I scroll up and down. I tweet on Twitter and post on Facebook. I google. Occasionally, I lean back and shout “Yahoo!” at the ceiling.
What if I was doing something else? There is a flip side.
I read a lot of worthwhile articles. I don’t have to look for them very hard. I’m often looking up actors – Dana Andrews, for instance, or Victor McLaglen, or Doris Day – while I watch old movies. Watching the British Open, I dialed up Old Tom Morris, Young Tom Morris and One and Only Tom Weiskopf.
Did you know that Young Tom Morris died of a broken heart? After his wife died in childbirth, and the baby, too, Young Tom passed away at age 24 of heart attack. His father – they each won The Open Championship four times – lived to be 86.
Do you care? I didn’t think so. Back before technology deluge, I didn’t, either.
Sometimes blissful ignorance looks pretty good.
I never much cared for the Charlotte Knights’ ballpark, but I got a bit sentimental watching them fall to the Tidewater Tides Friday night. Next year – didn’t it used to be called Knights’ Castle? – the Triple-A affiliate of the Chicago White Sox will play in uptown Charlotte instead of faraway Fort Mill, S.C.
It’s not that Fort Mill is really so far away from Charlotte. It’s just that city people have so much nearby that they become unaccustomed to leaving the city.
The construction of a downtown ballpark has been wonderful for baseball in Greenville, even though they had to squander a Braves Double-A team to get it. The city squabbled about a new park for years, whereupon the Braves bolted for Mississippi, and having been thus humiliated, the politicians actually got it right. The Class A Drive is great for me – I’m a Red Sox fan – but Greenville gave up the gold mine when they let the old G-Braves escape.
Fluor Field is much better than Municipal Stadium, but the drive from Clinton is quite a bit less convenient. The rising BB&T Ballpark will doubtless be much better than the Knights Stadium, but driving all the way into that city will be really cumbersome for me.
Last night I found myself looking around the park, staring at the light standards, noticing the rust showing through the gray paint of the upper deck, thinking, what in the world is going to become of this place?
Ah. Cato distribution center, perhaps.
Take a parking lot and put up a … distribution center. I guess paradise will be uptown now.