An award-worthy week in the crazy world of golf

In honor of those self-congratulatory Emmys in Hollywood, how about we hand out a few statuettes of our own after a crazed
week on the world’s links.
Like, for example, “Most Relieved Guy Ever To Sign Divorce Papers”: Come and collect, Tiger Woods, and we promise there’s
no subpoena in the envelope. You’re free and clear now, and those bookend rounds of 65 on Thursday and 67 on Sunday indicate
that, while it’ll never be the same as it was in the salad days of the previous decade, something got liberated in your
mechanism. With the miracles of football jersey electronic direct deposit these days, you can be spared the agony of handwriting monthly
personal checks to the ex-wife, and concentrate on making a few putts. I’ll make the early call and say Tiger wins a major
in 2011. It proved too tough in 2010 to try and win majors while texting lawyers in between holes.
Look, here’s another award, “Best Performance By a Guy With Perma-Grin.” Congratulations, Matt Kuchar. It appears the
unchanging nature of your ear-to-ear doozy means you win this award every year, even if you play like a dog. A dozen years
after you captured America with your toothy college-kid smile at the 1998 U.S. Open at the Olympic Club, you’ve found a real
reason to smile – a 7-iron from the rough to two feet on a canted 18th green at Ridgewood C.C. to crush Martin Laird’s
Scottish heart on a playoff hole, a win in the first tourney of the Fed ExCup playoffs, a 10th top-10 of the year (tops on
Tour) and first place in the Fed ExCup points race.
Actually, Kooch’s smile may be the perfect response to taking the lead in the Fed ExCup points race. The Kooch grin can
serve as a default, something he does almost by way of saying: “What are you talking about? I don’t get a word you’re
saying, but I’ll keep smiling ‘til you stop talking about whatever it is I don’t understand.”
That’s pretty much how any talk of Baltimore Ravens jersey the Fed ExCup playoffs should be greeted:
Here’s another little gold trophy, for “Best Recurring Character in a Drama or Tragedy.” The landslide winner is everybody
’s favorite heartbreaker, Dustin Johnson. Seeing Johnson in the final twosome at the Barclays on Sunday, I was feeling
mighty proud of my prediction in a column two weeks ago that Johnson’s Nuke LaLoosh-like qualities – heavy on the talent,
light on the self-reflection – would mean he’d bounce back quickly from the Great Whistling Straits Bunker Adventure. I
also had a gnawing feeling, as in: How will young Dustin be befouled by this dastardly game again?
Turns out Sunday was light on the tragedy for Johnson. He couldn’t make a putt, never even tied for the lead, shot 72, tied
for ninth, made $202,500 and walked away with his dignity fairly intact, winning over even more fans with his resilience, his
cool reticence and the best sideburns/soul patch combo since the Beatnik era.
But wait, there’s more: “Best Performance in Stirring Up Jingoistic Tabloids” goes to none other than Colin Montgomerie,
the European Ryder Cup captain who snubbed England’s own Paul Casey – the ninth-ranked player in the world – and England’
s own Justin Rose – whose very last name invokes the make-England-weep lyrics of Elton John’s tribute to the late Princess
Diana. Monty instead went with a paisan, Italy’s Edoardo Molinari, who birdied his final three holes to win the Johnnie
Walker European Tour event Sunday. Never mind that Italy’s golf tradition runs about as deep as England’s beach volleyball
tradition – Monty went with the hot hand, and will wear a target if Molinari takes “il choke-o” the first weekend of
October in Wales.
Actually, Monty’s probably just happy somebody wants to talk about something other than his injunction to prevent allegedly
incriminating photographs from reaching the public eye. Heck, he’ll talk Molinari controversy until the cows come home, as
long as nobody brings up any talk of Buffalo Bills jerseyphotos.
The details of Casey’s exclusion surely pained anybody who remembers being snubbed by the cool kids in high school. Casey
was playing with Padraig Harrington, and on the seventh hole noticed Harrington’s wife gleefully share news with Padraig and
his caddie. Surely, Casey presumed, Harrington had gotten word he was a captain’s pick.
And then … radio silence.
Harrington’s wife said nary a word to Casey. Harrington himself went mute on the topic. It was like the big invite to a
Friday night keg party went out, with the caveat: “DON’T TELL CASEY. HE’S A NERD.”
Casey said it was excruciating, having to finish his round, knowing he was iced from the European squad while his playing
partner was going to the Big Dance. In fact, let’s hand out one last Golf Emmy fo