Brainy Boo Busted

REDNECK RUSE REVEALED

Expectarant can reveal that the PGA Tour's favorite good ol' boy, Boo Weekley, is in reality genius Dr. Beauregard Weekly, PhD.


The news will come as a shock to the fans of his happy-go-lucky, down-to-earth, thick-as-a-brick style. Weekley has legions of supporters who identify with his cracker, creationist, crass comments.
Every week, we are treated to examples of his redneck, inbred, dumbass, trailer trash talk. On foreign food: "Ain't no sweet tea, and ain't no fried chicken", on St Andrews: "I didn't know it was the home of golf. I thought the home of golf was where I was from.", on what he knows about China: "ehm, rice?".
However, Expectarant has discovered that the idiotic cletus-esque behavior is a sham, and that Beauregard is actually a genius with a doctorate in astro-physics. With 20-20 hindsight, his resemblance to Albert Einstein should have been a giveaway.



Expectarant approached Boo as he practiced behind his trailer in Buttfuck, Arkansas. Standing beside what appeared to be a toilet bowl with flowers in it, Boo regaled Expecterant with tales of mowing his lawn and finding a car; on going Christmas shopping for his mom, sister and girlfriend - and only having to buy one gift...; on how he can spit without opening his mouth; and was bemoaning the fact that his wife weighs more than his refridgerator when Expectarant dropped the bombshell and waved copies of Beauregard's many degrees and doctorates.
When confronted with the evidence, Weekley broke down and said "Oh, bother. Am I to understand that you have seen through my subterfuge? My, what perspecacity you have demonstrated." In his defence, Boo pointed out that just as all successful women golfers are unattractive, there are no intelligent successful male golfers. "One must appreciate the pressure on one to conform. There is simply no room on the tour for an articulate asthetic athlete such as myself. I find myself in a cultural desert, surrounded by supremely stupid people such as Colin "Mrs Doubtfire" Montgomery and Paul "Gormless" Goydos.
As such, it has been my wont to chuckle, fart, spit, talk inanely, and shoot anything that wanders within range to maintain the facade." As Beauregarde began sobbing into a delicate lace handkerchief which he had embroidered himself, Expectarant quietly made excuses and left.
Walking back to the highway, Expectarant passed by Boo's stationwagon, complete with hood and one door being a different color from the rest of the car. From the rear of the trailer, Boo was pulling himself together. The sounds of urinating mingled with his cackling, the psst of a beer can being opened, and an enormous bronxcheer that rattled the cracked windows of his mobile home......

Waiting For Goydos

AMERICAN GOLF HAS HIS SAY



(Apologies to Mr Beckett)

Given the dearth of credible American challengers in recent top tournaments, Expectarant decided to have a chat with American Golf himself.

Scene: A country road. A tree. Evening.

AG(American Golf): (sighing and trying to pull off his DryJoys) Nothing to be done.

EAR (Expect-A-Rant): Still no sign of the "Great White Hope" then?

AG: Not a sausage.

EAR: Still, you have Tiger.

AG: Not at the moment, he's missing in inaction. Right now, we have people of the calibre of Phat Phil "Feed Me" Mickelson and Stewart "Going Down The" Cink. Tiger's gammy leg has more personality. Come to think of it, a stiff gerbil in a can of mushroom soup has more presence.

EAR: So, AG, things ain't so good right now, huh?

AG: In the words of St. Joe Peski: "Hey, tell me aboudit! Deese losers is drivin' me nuts!"

EAR: Do tell

AG: Worst bunch in years. A surly Spanish whiner wins the Players Championship, a twitchy bouncing Irishman pips the Spanish whiner for the British Open, a chain-smoking Argentinian journeyman loser wins the US Open, a lame South African with a golf ball in his chest wins the Masters?! I mean, come on!



EAR: There's always the PGA.

AG: Thank God for the lottery tickets at the USPGA Journeyman's Classic! Everywhere else, foreigners with desire and ability eating our lunch. Meanwhile, what do I got? Gormless Goydos, that's what!

EAR: You mean, Paul "What a complete gentleman! What a thoroughly likeable character! What an absolute loser!" Goydos?

AG: The very fellow. Hailed as the articulate nice guy. Witty, charming, sweaty - he seemed to have everything.

EAR: Except the ability to win?

AG: Yeah, that. And the fact that when he tossed in the playoff (less groaning from the onanists please), he handled his entirely predicable defeat in the following considered, erudite manner:
"No defense; I couldn't tackle the little guy. He's probably not little, that's probably not a fair thing; he could probably take me pretty easily. But you can't kneecap him."

EAR: If only Obama was as eloquent.

AG: Let's keep politics out of this. Dubya hasn't exactly been a great ad for American golf. (Thoughtful) Mind you, Hillary and Chelsea are unattractive enough to be decent players on the LPGA tour....



EAR: Ahem! Is this your worst year ever?

AG: No. We actually still have a one-legged American clinging onto a major right now. In 1994 all four majors and the Players were won by foreigners.

EAR: Ouch! And I thought annus horribilis was something that called for Preparation H.

AG: Or Christina Kim from behind?

EAR: Enough! What is causing this decline?

AG: I'm glad you asked. I could blame it all on a temporary surplus of journeymen losers, but it's deeper than that. The excessive purses, especially the money paid to the middle of the pack, has created a generation of golfers who are driven, not by the desire to WIN, but by the desire to NOT LOSE. There is a massive difference between the two. When sweaty buffoons like Goydos "have their day", with putts and chips falling in everywhere, they don't know what to do with it. On the other hand, Europeans NEED to win to be financially secure. They've developed a hunger and mental toughness that Americans lack and the Ryder Cup has been highlighting this for years. If I wasn't an inbred redneck creationist with my head up my ass, I'd say that it makes perfect evolutionary sense that American golfers haven't needed to win to survive, so they gave up trying.

ERA: That is undoubtedly correct, but perhaps excessively deep for a satirical blog such as this. To close, do you have any other golfing examples of such evolutionary developments?

AG: Sure. Look at women's golf. Now that the Latvian Loser Gulpit Gulbis has learned that she can actually make money winning tournaments instead of flashing her T&A everywhere, she'll probably have a breast reduction and have ugly back pictures taken.

ERA: Fair enough. Thanks for your time.

AG: Well? Shall we go?

ERA: Yes, let's go.

(They do not move)

Phat Phil Phinds Phorm

CORPULENT COLONIAL CHAMPION

The upward pressure on global food prices eased last weekend as Phat Phil “Feed Me” Michelson (left) stopped eating just long enough to win the Colonial by one shot from some anonymous journeymen hackers.

Wiping a tear from his eye, and some stale breadcrumbs from his chest, Phil pulled on the hideous winners jacket, which promptly burst up the back seam as “Feed Me” had become even more morbidly obese during the final round.

The gross golfer blamed his burgeoning bingeing on stress. “When you don’t know when your next pint of trans-fat is coming from, it’s difficult to hold everything together” he wheezed. When his hand stuck half way up the sleeve he was asked to try again, this time without holding the Big Mac.

The bulimic ball striker recovered from a near collapse on the back nine, when his legs buckled under the stress (above). Buckets were brought and some purging with extreme prejudice followed. A team of over forty volunteers soon got him upright, after initial confusion where some thought they were there to push him back into the sea.

Stuffing his winners check down the front of his trousers, “Feed Me” announced that he was considering some obese operatic antics, playing Mr Creosote in a new Broadway show based on Monty Python’s “The Meaning of Liphe”.

Modest Annika hands over reins

AVERAGE ANNIKA ANNOUNCES ADIEU
A tearful Annika Sorenstam (left) last night announced her imminent retirement as leading unattractive woman golfer. "It's time to go", she flubbered, "recently some shots of me looking vaguely sexy have been circulating on the internet".

There was a stunned silence from the assembled drink-sodden oily journos, who then erupted into drunken cackling and snorts as copies were passed around of what may well be the most unattractive nude back photo ever published:

Annika hurriedly clarified that she was referring to "other" attractive pictures, but despite a lengthy and comprehensive search no such images have turned up.



WORLD'S FINEST PLAYER?
More dominant in her day than Tiger Woods, perhaps still the finest player on earth and winner of last week's Michelob Ultra Open, Annika inherited the mantle of Karrie Webb, previously the world's leading lady golfer and similarly unhot.


LARGE LAURA
"We've all tried to live up to the literally enormous reputation of Laura Davies, who truly established the concept that only women who don't publish calendars can lead the world rankings. There's no denying that tour tarts occasionally win, but shedding kit, cavorting on beaches and being distracted by onanist men seeking sordid mayhem is not conducive to time on the practice range, essential for consistency. No question, there's no place like homely", Annika added.

JULI JAGGER TYLER
Juli Inkster (love child of Mick Jagger and Steven Tyler) has been the leading US plain jane for a number of years, still playing remarkably well whilst cleverly screwing her face up at the slightest hint of a camera.


LORENA OCHOA LEFT FEELING FLAT
Although Christina Kim briefly threatened to waddle into top spot it is very clear who will now step up. As Annika said: "Clearly Lorena Ochoa has everything it takes to dominate women's golf. Outstanding ability, steely determination...and no breasts."

Surly Sergio Speechless

GARCIA WINNING NOT WHINING SHOCK
Sergio Garcia made absolutely no comment after winning the Player’s Championship last night. Having focused his entire post-round repertoire into whining about how the world was against him and how unlucky he was, he found himself unable to speak as he dropped lucky putt after lucky putt, while others missed, to get into a playoff.
Finally, he was left gaping at Paul Goydos as Paul meekly put his tee-shot at the notorious 17th into the water to hand the tournament to Garcia. Sergio was left with a wedge and two putts to seal his victory. He was reportedly checked into an acting clinic last night trying to relearn how to smile.

GOD GOOFED?
Afterwards, in an exclusive interview, God revealed to Expectarant that he had intended to make Garcia as unlucky and miserable as usual, but had somehow “missed” him. Sporting even more wild facial hair than usual, and smelling slightly of altar wine, God was upset that people seemed to think he should never make mistakes. He then added, “Hey, I can’t be everywhere at once, you know?!”. When reminded of the doctrines of infallibility and omnipresence, God muttered something about “gotta get my drink on”, moved in a mysterious way and vanished from sight.


JESUS WEPT
Soon after, scuffling noises indicated that God had mysteriously moved himself ten feet away into a nearby broom cupboard. When released, he wept as he confessed that there may have been a slight tremor in his finger as he pointed it at Garcia. “I can’t guarantee it, but I think I may have hit the old fat harmless sweaty guy instead” (see below).

GORMLESS GOYDOS
Goydos took it all in his customary low-key, smiling, homely, journeyman-like way. All week he has been getting massive press coverage for the calm, downbeat, sheer happy ordinariness of his comments and actions.

What a complete gentleman!
What a thoroughly likeable character!
What an absolute loser!


SENSE AT LAST
Afterwards, Goydos showed more nous that is indicated by his appearance when he pointed out: “the last thing I needed was to win this and be the focus of the baying boozy by-liners going forward. Look what happened to poor Trevor Immelame!”

Wie hate Michelle

Rarely does an individual come along who represents so many of the factors which raise Expectarant's bile, but surely in Michelle Wie, wie have the perfect candidate.
Never has so limited achievement been leveraged into such rewards.


This obnoxious brat has been destroying the credibility of woman golfers for over 5 years now. Each year, her face is plastered everywhere amidst claims of imminent greatness before mysterious wrist and back "injuries" are blamed for her poor performances. In addition, her embarrassing sorties into men's tour events do nothing other than derive some far more deserving male hacker from earning a crust. You will look in vain on the LPGA website for her dreadful tour stats because, unbelievably, she hasn't even deigned to actually join the LPGA, instead floating around in a haze of sponsors exemptions. In a 2006 article that surely had Henry Luce turning in his grave, Time Magazine unforgivably called her "one of 100 people who shape our world". She is believed to earn over ten million dollars each year...for winning absolutely nothing.

SPORTING SLUTS
Unfortunately, "Big Bird" Wie isn't the first to gain fame despite a dearth of actual victories. There have been others who have taken precious little talent and used their “other gifts” to gain exposure. A classic case was Expectarant's old friend, IndyCar’s Danica Patrick..... until her pit crew spoiled it all by handing her a victory through their fuel strategy. As covered here, having actually done something credible, her career as the IndyCar Cicciolina was suddenly over….

TOUR TRAMPS
Golf has had it’s share of no-talent bimbos before of course. Examples (shown below) include Anna Rawson, Sophie Sandolo, and, of course, Christina Kim. A case of "if you can't whip 'em, whip 'em off".



(Expectarant apologises. Christina Kim should not be included here ....... because she has actually won on tour).

NATALIE GULPIT
However, none exemplify the type better than Natalie Gulbis. This Latvian loser earned vast sums of money from endorsements in her first five years as a pro, despite no wins on the tour.
Natalie was a Danica Patrick clone, down to the FHM shoots and the bikini calendars. Like Danica she was also seen as a shameless slattern destroying her sport's credibility, before tripping over a win in the Evian Masters in her 6th year on tour. With the field going backwards, she won with a score twelve shots worse than Karrie Webb’s score the previous year, but nevertheless the monkey was off Gulpit's back...…and seems to have climbed around to her front instead (below).
Her official website carries the modest description: "Natalie Gulbis - LPGA tournament winning professional, beautiful model, successful businesswoman , desired marketing spokesperson, and philanthropist."
Until July last year, that description would have read: "Natalie Gulbis - LPGA loser, beautiful model, successful businesswoman , desired marketing spokesperson, philanthropist....... and tart."
She upset the establishment by selling vast quantities of her annual calendars, despite them being officially banned by the USGA. Although lacking nudity (see Sophie above for some of that) each year her groaning onanist fans drooled avidly over each bikini shot. Expectarant has heard of one young fan who remained in bed for four days armed only with three of her calendars and a box of tissues. He then got up, tripped, fell downstairs.......and cracked his pyjamas.
Expectarant is intruiged to note that Gulpit's latest calendar will NOT contain any bikini shots. Having shown she can actually win, she appears to have finally found some self-respect from somewhere and realised that she doesn't have to pose semi-naked to earn money.

TENNIS TART
However, the best example from the world of sports is probably Anna Kournikova (shown below demonstrating her backhand and forehand).She has happily shed her kit at every opportunity, only interrupting her sluttish posing to shag singers and lose the odd tennis match.

BUT WIE DIGRESS
Getting back on track, Expectarant was delighted at minging Michelle's performance at the Michelob Ultra Open. In her first outing since February, Wie continued on her merry way, picking up where she left off scoring a 75 to be 12 shots off the lead, before missing the cut tied for 105th place. Expectarant will be following her gangly progress avidly as the year progresses.

Immelman does not pass go

In a clever piece of productivity, Trevor Immelman missed out on the weekend as usual, but didn't waste time playing the first two rounds.



He withdrew from the Players Championship today giving the excellent excuse that he "isn't a player".
Clever Trevor!

Anthony Kim – Gary Player’s lovechild?

Anthony Kim won the Whackoff Championship by five shots, then startled the oily journos who bothered to hang around by claiming that Gary Player may be his real father.

As the jaded hacks struggled to contain their mounting indifference, he told them: “I have a picture of me sitting on his loveable, oily, dandruff-covered shoulder, taken when I was around 5 (left). He also calls me every time there is a major final round and tells me to watch out for some guy called Ed Varsity or something. This win is for you, Dad!”

This prompted an outburst of jeering and bronxcheers from the baying boozy by-liners. After being shown the Expectarant exclusive expose of the infamous “Player Phony Prodigy Posed Petting Photo Plot Perpetrated” here, Mr Kim did a Snedeker and burst into tears, before sniffling off the podium to drunken cackling from the soused scribblers.

Ben Curtis
More interesting was the reawakening of Ben “Rip Van Winkle” Curtis (right). Sporting a five –year growth of wild facial hair, he posted his best round since stealing a Major from far more deserving folks back in 2003. “As usual, I was dozing at home on the weekend a couple of weeks ago. As you know, the only place I make a cut these days is on a pool table. Suddenly, the phone rang.
Then on my bedside table, I saw the picture of me as a kid on some oily guy’s lap(left) and I shuddered. I just knew it would be that crank call that I get from him every so often. He says something about handling university, then hangs up. To get away from it I wandered over to my practice area and started swinging. The rest you know.”

He yawned, then added “Whatever, I’m feeling a bit weary already, so see you guys again in another five years” before scratching his nether regions and shuffling sadly away.

Immelman: reporters “not getting it”

“They never told me it would be like this” moaned journeyman hacker Trevor “I’m Lame” Immelman as he trudged out of the Whackoff Championship yesterday. True to form, Trev had heroically just scraped under the 150 mark to be booted out in style.

“These reporters are not getting it. Don’t they understand that this is the real me? I was never meant to be scrutinized in this way. I used to happily miss cuts every week, and now people keep noticing. Just because I got lucky in a Major...”

LOSS SLIPPED FROM MY GRASP
“I did everything I could to ensure I lost. Just as when I won the Nedbank Golf Challenge (aka “Africa’s Major”) where I finished bogey-bogey-bogey, I had a completely undignified sphincter factor moment at 16. I mean, I ruined a perfectly good pair of slacks out there as I double-bogeyed. I threw in my trademark 75 closing round and yet I still won. What’s a mediocre duffer to do?”

So, the Masters was nothing really different from any other week. However Trev hadn’t allowed for the legions of drink-sodden oily journos (left) desperate for a column inch or two. Trevor said it best when he pointed out “Last week I missed the cut in Houston and here I am sitting here as the Masters champion. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of.” . However, instead of focusing on the Tiger putting implosion, the sad wino hacks have tried to build pieces around “I’m Lame” deserving to win, and inventing human interest storylines.

EMBARRASSING
“Immelman only guy with a Grand Slam chance” abc11
“Surely everybody will now realize that Immelman, 28, is one of the game's finest young players” Lorne Rubenstein, Globe and Mail
"Immelman only one that can win Grand Slam now"
Larry Bush, Jupiter Courier
"We salute a true champion for his courage, temperament and nerves of steel" Amagama

HUMAN INTEREST - Benign Tumour?
Trevor exclusively told Expectarant of examples where the sleazy paparazzi twisted the facts:
“They even talked up my embarrassing incident where I was injured after hitting a ball into a tree. It rebounded straight back at me and hit me in the chest. Next thing I know they are talking about a ‘benign tumour’ being removed from my diaphragm. The fact it was ’golf-ball sized’ should have been a giveaway. But no, they wanted their human interest story….
Luckily there has been no mention of the "brain tumour" I got removed from my head a year ago (right).

“They even deliberately got my voice message story wrong. I have a mate called Gary, who is a player. He called and told me I was a freakin' lucky journeyman hacker. You can see where this is going…..”

“I just wish they would leave me alone. I just wasn’t supposed to win this”



REALITY REPORTING…FINALLY
Expectarant is pleased to announce that reality is finally beginning to dawn:
The Golf Channel:
“So, Trevor Immelman, think you can win the next three majors?
“No, probably not,” the South African replied”
The Golf Channel
Immelman win was a fluke – Terrence Moore, Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Immelman continues to struggle – Joedy McCreary, GolfWeek
“There's not much to talk about, really," Immelman said.
Immelman misses another cut – Golf Magazine

Immelman: Not bastard, on drugs?

Even with Tiger on crutches, Trevor “I’m Lame” Immelman couldn’t close the gap (see "Tiger Chase"). The gap, of course, being that between “Greatest Player Who Ever Lived” to “Mediocre Journeyman Loser Who Got Lucky In A Major”.

NOT BASTARD
With his new-found fame as a Major winner, Trevor had the field in the Byron Nelson quaking in their boots as he shot 78-75 for 150th place. In a deserted press conference afterwards, Trevor sobbed as he confessed that he has discovered that he is NOT Gary Player’s illegitimate son, something he had believed for years. “I have a picture of me on his shoudlers when I was 5. I just never thought my parents would willingly place me in the arms of a complete stranger and encourage him to position me on various parts of his body. I just assumed I’d been adopted and that he was my real Dad.”

PLAYER PHONY PRODIGY POSED PETTING PHOTO PLOT PERPETRATED
Expectarant has discovered a “Prodigy Photo” scam that Player has been perpetrating for over 30 years. Each summer, hundreds of 5-year-old children in South Africa pay thousands of dollars to sit on the oily little man’s shoulders and have their picture taken. Whenever any of them find fleeting fame, the picture is produced to show that “Uncle Gary” spotted their prodigal playing ability years before.

To give the scam credibility, Player has software which automatically sends a voice mail to all of the former shoulder sitters the night before the last round of a Major. The message is: “Hey fella. Believe in yourself, hold ya head still on putts, and be strong through adversity, because adversity will come”. Several recipients, now ex-golfers and working as plumbers, priests, rent boys and in McDonalds, have sued Player’s telco in an attempt to get the messages to stop.

In another development, David Leadbetter was asked why he had likened Immelame’s swing to Ben Hogan’s. Chuckling, David tried to rescue his tarnished reputation by claiming that obviously he meant Hogan’s swing “just after or even during his near-fatal car crash”.

ON DRUGS?
Immelame’s sudden burst of “talent” in winning the Masters has drawn comparisons to other sudden performance surges by athletes. Examples include Michelle Smith de Bruin, Marion Jones, Barry Bonds and Florence Griffith-Joyner.
Alert readers may also remember Gary Player’s stunning allegations regarding drug use in golf. He claimed at the time to know the doper personally.
Now, asked why he staggered drunkenly around in 78 to stand 153rd on day one of the Byron Nelson, Immelame alludes to having exhaused his supplies of what may be an illegal substance. See "Out of Gas"

Shakespeare for yoots

It is well-known that The Bard was a keen golfer. His works are peppered with references (albeit vague) to the Royal and Ancient game. A favourite quote describes the all-too-familiar aftermath of the chipping yips:
'Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew,
That stroke would prove the worst!'

A new book entitled "To Be or Not To Be, Innit" by Martin Baum, purports to be a "Yoof-speak guide to Shakespeare".

It includes classics such as:
Romeo and his Fit Bitch Jools
Verona was de turf of de feuding Montagues and de Capulet families. And coz they was always brawling and stuff, de Prince of Verona told them to cool it or else they was gonna get well mashed if they carried on larging it with each other. Meanwhile, whilst all dis was going on, Romeo, from de Montague posse, had become all jiggy jiggy with de Rosaline bitch who was de niece of de Capulet massive. But never ready to settle with just de one bitch, Romeo and his boyz disguised demselves and crashed de Capulet turf where dere was de masked ball going down, and that was when he saw de well fit Capulet’s daughta, Jools.

and:
Amlet, Prince of Denmark
Dere was somefing minging in de State of Denmark which was making Amlet all uncool. First, his Uncle Claudius had married his muvva, de main bitch Queen Gertrude. Then de Norwegian Fortinbras massive was freatening to invade de Danish turf and finally, and quite unexpectedly, de rank ghost of his nutty farva was spooking de crap out of him. De minging ghost told Amlet he was poisoned by Claudius and wanted him to do somefing about it. Amlet said “Aiii,” and reckoned de best way was to pretend to go all loony toons to make everyone fink he was barking, including Ophelia, de fit bitch he wanted to be all jiggy jiggy with.

Sadly, we don't have an extract from "Offello", which we assume involves "a Paki wot strangles 'is crumpet".

More Butch than Harmon

Lewis Hamilton in a thong?

Danica Patrick gets long-awaited victory at weekend race in Japan

Expectarant was delighted to see Danica Patrick finally winning her first race in IndyCar. In a shocking development, the shy, retiring convent girl took time off from being a slut to actually bring her car home first.

To the last, Danica continued her selfless one-woman destruction of IndyCar's credibility and managed to expose a breast as she took the chequered flag. Afterwards, she tearfully apologized to her legion of onanist fans, as winning a race now means that she no longer has to appear in GoDaddy ads referring to her beaver.


She blamed her pit team for having the best fuel strategy and actually giving her enough gas to finish.
She had intended to conduct a simulated sex scene on the bonnet of the car after it had sputtered to a halt on the last lap. In the event, she had to make do with some suggestive stroking of the trophy and an entirely predictable routine with the champagne bottle.


Her numerous soft-porn shoots bring back memories of the infamous Michael Schumacher Playgirl spreads. Late last night, Lewis Hamilton announced plans to don a posing pouch and simulate fellatio on Fernando Alonso.

Tiger Chase

"Trevor Immelman's win starts Tiger chase"


Just as I feared.... part of the flood of sycophantic waffle building up around this mediocre little South African golfer.
- Splash! Classy Immelame shows his composure under pressure on the 16th






No mention here of how crap "Immelame" played to miss four cuts already this year. The guff about "Hogan-like" makes me want to throw up, and if I hear "golf prodigy" again about a 28-year-old I'll chuck.

I confidently predict he will have a Majors record as glorious as Ben Curtis, Todd Hamilton, Ian Baker-Finch and Steve Jones.

That's without including winners of the most non-Major of all, the USPGA Journeyman's Classic. Past winning lottery ticket holders there include such consistent performers as Shaun Micheel, Mark Brooks and especially the sylish colossus, Rich Beem (right).



Majors are a scarce resource, a rare delicacy wasted on 99% of the automatons that infest the Pro Tours. I see players like Colin Montgomery and Sergio Garcia branded as failures for not having a Major tucked away. Hence the pain I feel when I see the 2008 Masters go to.... sorry, what was his name again?!