This is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf. Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist. This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write. I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf. The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie. And it is where you want to be on a golf course.
To answer the question in this blog headline, not me.
I cannot tolerate the over-the-top conduct of pro golfer Phil Mickelson who appears to believe he is above everyone else – and everyone ought to listen to him.
He is in the Masters this week on the strength of his three victories there – victories I loved when they occurred in 2004, 2006 and 2010. Mickelson was one of my favorite golfers and I wished him all the success in the world, even as he appeared to treasure his family often on the scene of his triumphs.
I loved how he took chances to test his skills. One of the shots I will remember forever is the 6-iron he hit through a hole in a tree all the way to 13th green over water at the Masters. His caddy, then Jim “Bones” MacKay, urged him not to try to shot, but Mickelson succeeded as he often did.
That was Mickelson at his best.
Then, he defected (one of my friends will not like my use of the word “defect,” but I do so intentionally in this case) from the PGA Tour, which had given him a substantial livelihood for many years. He joined the upstart LIV, which is funded by the tainted Saudi Arabia Defense Fund.
Along the way, he remarked to the media that it was no big deal, to him, for the Saudis to do their work, which involved killing people.
That soured me on Mickelson for the rest of his golf career, whatever that is to be.
Before he defected, a highlight for me occurred several years ago when I served as a walking marshal at the American Express Tournament. I was assigned to a then-stalwart twosome — Mickelson and Tony Finau.
Finau played a great round, shooting a 63. Mickelson carded a 72.
It was fun to be up and close to these two golfers for 18 holes.
I also was able to say hello to Phil’s caddy, his brother, Tim, whom my son knew from their days at Oregon State University. [As an aside, Tim is no longer on his Phil’s bag, having “retired” to spend more time with his growing family.]
That is my last positive memory of Mickelson. Since then, he has descended into the abyss of LIV golf, arguing that the PGA Tour is not worth anything.
For me, today, Mickelson also is worth nothing in my fan base.
Perspective from the 19th Hole 