Spectator Sport

4 April 2009

Right now in the States there’s a televised event they call the Mega March Madness.

You could pick Padraig Harrington, who’s also running into form (six shots off the lead at Orlando) and going for his third consecutive major at Augusta. There’d be one hell of a party if there’s any Guinness left in Dublin after the heroics of O’Driscoll and Co. And don’t forget Phil Mickelson, a two-time Masters winner who hasn’t been out of the top ten in all but one of the last 10 Masters. Until Woods cruised back to the top of the tree on Sunday, this was seen as Mickelson’s chance to overhaul Woods as world No 1. Hmm.

And there can’t be a golf fan in the world who won’t be wishing, in some outlying part of their mental galaxy, that this will be Norman’s final conquest. The Shark’s had it rougher than anyone at Augusta. He’s finished second three times (though not since ’96) and third three times. Now he’s 54 and giving it one last bash, thanks to that incredible third at the Open last year. And it’s always nice to see Chris Evert too. Am I getting overexcited or is all this just too much high drama, human interest, and tests of character for one sporting event?

Fedoras off for the England football team’s fabulous new retro white shirts, all neatly tucked in too, that made Lamps and the lads look like a prep-school hockey team. Even Wayne Rooney might feel a bit of a twerp if he tries to punch the corner flag in his elegant crisp whites. But well done Fabio: just what you’d expect from an Italian.