Brian Harman Made Things Uninteresting
I’ve been thinking about a question again: Why do we watch golf? Why do we go to golf tournaments and walk around in the heat so we might see a golfer swing a club or we might see a ball plop on the green? Why do we sit in front of the television and watch people stand around and maybe talk with their caddies and then swing a club and hit a golf ball toward a fairway or toward a green or toward a hole? It doesn’t seem like especially gripping action.
So why the heck do any of us watch this stuff?
I think there are several reasons. Start with the obvious: Amateur golfers make up a vast part of the audience — no other sport* has SO MANY commercials selling the sport’s equipment — and I think amateur golfers like to watch the sport played at its highest level. It’s inspiring. It’s educational. It’s fun.
Rory McIlroy plays golf! I play golf! We’re the same! I hit a shot just like that last week!
*Don’t even start with me on Pickleball. Just don’t.
But there are many of us who watch golf but don’t play golf. What’s the appeal for us? I thought about that over the weekend, as a perfectly fine and blah player named Brian Harman ran away with the Open Championship at Royal Liverpool. Brian Harman is a 5-foot-7, lefty golfer from Savannah, Ga., who before this week was probably best known (if known at all) for four things:
He led the U.S. Open a few years ago going into Sunday, only to get lapped by Brooks Koepka on the final day.
He’s like the Danny Trejo of golf — he’s never the star but he makes an appearance in just about every golf tournament. He’s pretty much always in the top 10, and he pretty much never wins.
He likes to hunt. A lot.
He likes to waggle his golf club. A lot.
None of those things would prepare us for the way he destroyed everybody at Royal Liverpool.