Will Sepp Straka waltz off with this AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am?

PEBBLE BEACH —  He was born in Vienna and plays golf with consistency as beautifully as Strauss composed waltzes. His given name, Josef, offers a window to his origin, and his talent provides insight into his skill. Straka stomped across the California desert a week and a half ago, going 69 holes at one stretch without a bogey and winning the American Express Classic. Some 250 miles north, Straka is in the lead halfway through the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am.

He shot a 7-under par 65 on a cool, drizzly Friday at Pebble Beach and is at 14-under 130 for 36 holes. That put him 4 shots ahead of 2 men, 1st-round leader Russell Henley, who had a 69, and Cam Davis, 68, both of whom were at Spyglass Hill. 

The son of an Austrian father and an American mother, Straka and his twin brother Sam moved early on to Valdosta, Ga., where there may not be any strudel or downhill runs, but there are plenty of golf courses. He played at the University of Georgia and, since joining the PGA Tour, has secured three victories. A fourth could be as close as Sunday, but one thing we have learned in golf is never to make predictions—except when Straka is in the field. He's going to score effectively. So far in the two rounds of this historic event, he’s made only two bogies, one each day.   

“It was kind of a team effort,” he said about his spectacular second round. However, he was the only member of the team and was referring to the manner in which he scored.  “Hitting the ball really well early in the round, and then missed a few putts but made some really nice putts, too. So it was just all around a pretty solid day.”

Through the decades of this event which began as the Bing Crosby Pro-Am, frequent downpours have been so famous, that they’ve been labeled “Crosby weather.” Last year’s tournament was called after three rounds on a Sunday night, which was a precedent. A heavier rain than Friday’s drizzle has been predicted for Saturday, and how that affects Straka and the others is a guess.

“Yeah, the forecast looks pretty rough. I think it’s going to be a lot more challenging. Yeah, looking forward to that challenge.”

There was no 36-hole cut in this accelerated tournament, meaning everyone who started will finish—unless the player chooses otherwise, so still in the field are last year’s champion, Wyndham Clark, and Brendon Todd, even if they are 18 shots behind. Jake Knapp, with an-even-par 72 at Spyglass, slipped out of a first-round tie for second, but at 137, is in a decent position for a high finish. He is the former night club bouncer, who is now bouncing golf balls into cups. Of course, he and everyone must chase Sepp Straka, who has made the bogey virtually obsolete.

Waltz to that music.

One-time bar bouncer, Knapp, among those tied for 2nd at Pebble

PEBBLE BEACH — The cups that hold his attention these days are the ones on the putting greens where Jake Knapp makes birdies. Knapp was among six players tied for second at 7-under par—a shot behind Russell Henley—in Thursday’s opening round in the ATT Pebble Beach Pro-Am. But not all that long ago Jake Knapp was thinking about cups and glasses in the restaurant-tavern where he worked while struggling to become a touring pro.

Golf is never an easy game, but some people become successful more quickly than others.  Knapp was one of the others. He did modestly well while at UCLA some ten years ago. He got on the second circuit which was renamed the Korn Ferry Tour. And he didn’t make progress until after losing his card. Then everything clicked. 

He won on the Korn Ferry and almost exactly a year ago broke through on the PGA Tour with a first-place finish in the Mexico City Open last February.

“I worked as a nightclub bouncer. After losing status and missing at Q-School in 2021, out of funds, I needed to be away from golf. I needed some responsibility and some perspective on things. I wasn't aware that The Country Club, a restaurant in Costa Mesa, turned into a nightclub; I went there to be a barback (assistant bartender).”

His days were free since he worked at night, allowing him to spend them practicing golf. It obviously paid off for Knapp, who is now 30, which is considered late to start a career on tour. However, what matters is not how long he is on tour, but how well he does. 

On Thursday he did very well, shooting a 65 and not making a single bogey.  

“It was cold this morning,” he said with a southern California viewpoint. “I wasn’t playing super easy those first few holes, just how firm and kind of bouncy the greens were, but once it kind of warmed up you realized with not much wind out here you can give yourself a lot of opportunities and did a good job of doing that.” 

When you think of bouncers in bars, you might picture someone built like Arnold Schwarzenegger. But Knapp is built more like a defensive back—5-foot-11 and 190 pounds. Yes, that’s large enough to put a few glasses on the counter and maybe put a few unruly customers out the door. 

On Friday, when he shifts to Spyglass Hill—the other course used in this historic tournament—he needs to put a few more onto the fairways off the tees. If the weather turns nasty, as predicted, it's better to be at Spyglass, deep in the Del Monte Forest, than at Pebble Beach along the bay.

“If we get a little bit of weather and if that happens,” said Knapp, “just do our best to keep the ball in front of us and keep it below the hole.” 

If he can do that, the man who was once responsible for ejecting unruly customers might find more than a glass raised to his golf.

Would it be possible these days to create a golf tournament the way Bing Crosby did?

PEBBLE BEACH — You read the nickname on one of the many plaques posted behind the first tee. “Crosby Clambake,” it says, the briefest reference to a tournament that has been altered over time—and to some, diminished— evolving into what is now the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am.

You know how it all came about, a singer-entertainer whose popularity helped brighten America during the Depression of the 1930s, creating a golf event for his pals and impoverished pros. It was an original, and it became an anchor for the sport, which has grown into a multibillion-dollar industry.

Most of us know that. What we don’t know is whether that would be a possibility, or even a fantasy in today’s world. Is there any individual around whom you can build a golf tournament or any sporting competition as once was done? Television has made us aware of so many multi-talented athletes and entertainers.

Just watch any of the late-night shows or sports channels. Pick one of your favorite stars. Then remember he or she must be a golfer as was Crosby or Bob Hope. It doesn’t work anymore. It doesn’t need to. Which is why the Bing Crosby Pro-Am, once listed as “The greatest show in golf,” must be viewed through a historic prism.

You had Ben Hogan or Sam Snead trading strokes while Phil Harris or Dean Martin cracked jokes. It was like watching the Colbert show while it was being staged on the 18th green at Pebble.

There were birdies and bogeys and laughs. There were memorable lines, as well as memorable tee shots. The Golf Channel and ESPN didn’t exist in those days. If you wanted to know what was going on, you had to be standing there, even in the rain that came to be known as “Crosby weather.”

The purses were small compared to now—Scottie Scheffler, who is in this AT&T, earned $25 million last year. That figure would seem a dream for pros even in the 1950’s. 

Of course, everything changes, sometimes for the better and sometimes not. The tournament once was played on three courses including iconic Cypress Point where Bing himself was a member and once made a hole-in-one on the hole that juts into Monterey Bay, the 16th hole.  During his tournament, he would be seen wandering around the course welcoming fans and seemingly enjoying the golf as much as the players. 

Clint Eastwood, who became the mayor of neighboring Carmel, has a long history with the tournament, both as a player and an official.

In his book on the tournament, Dwayne Netland offered an Eastwood recollection. While a soldier at nearby Fort Ord, the Army Base which is now the site of Cal State Monterey Bay, he and a buddy crashed the Sunday night dinner, claiming they were assistants to Art Rosenbaum, the San Francisco Chronicle golf writer (and eventual sports editor). 

“I had the best steak I ever had and then went around and ate up all the desserts.”

You notice he didn’t mention a thing about clams. But that is how Crosby is remembered on that plaque behind the first tee at Pebble.

At Pebble Beach, Scheffler returns to golf after hand injury

PEBBLE BEACH—You hear it almost every time an athlete gets hurt doing something unusual, something unrelated to their sport: “We have to live normal lives too.

Scottie Scheffler, the world’s No. 1 ranked golfer, offered a version of that reminder when Tuesday addressed the media. He returned to the game after missing the opening weeks of the PGA tour season. He sliced up his right hand on a broken glass while making ravioli for Christmas dinner.

We never got a taste of the pasta, but we are going to get a figurative taste of Scheffler’s brilliant game in the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, starting Thursday. 

“Yeah, it broke and the stem kind of got me in the hand,” said Scheffler. “So it's one of those deals where like it's truly — I can't live in a bubble, like got to live my life and accidents happen. You know, it could have been a lot worse.”

“I actually talked to somebody who did the exact same thing and the stem went straight through his hand. It's one of those deals where immediately after it happened I was mad at myself because I was like gosh, that's so stupid, but you just don't think about it when you're in the moment. Yeah, I’ve definitely been like a little more careful doing stuff at home.”

Rory McIlroy, who returned from his annual winter tournaments in the Middle East and is also in the AT&T, had his own thoughts about Scheffler’s accident.

“I think he made enough money to hire a chef. It's like why are you cooking yourself?” said McIlroy. In normal locker room repartee, Scheffler shot back, “I’ve got a chef, her name’s Meredith. She’s pretty cute.”

Indeed, Meredith is his wife and mother of their recently born first child, a son, Bennett.

Scheffler is as much a joy to listen to as to watch. He takes the sport seriously but not himself, poking fun at mistakes and making clear how much he understands the game is as much mental as it is physical. He isn’t full of theories or of himself. 

During his forced absence—Scheffler needed minor surgery on the right hand to extract tiny pieces of glass—he reviewed videos of his game during the season. It’s an old story for any golfer. No matter how well he or she plays, there is always room for improvement.

But after a year in which he earned $25 million on the Tour and a second Masters, you wonder how much better he can get? So much of golf, as any sport, is being at the right place at the right time. Yet Scheffler seems capable of performing excellently for many years, if he stays out of the kitchen.

The AT&T isn’t like it once was—but what is?

The question was understandable. The man looked at the field of the AT&T Pro-Am, which starts Thursday, and asked “What ever happened to this tournament?”

Answer: Progress and reality. 

Also, survival.

Golf isn’t what it used to be, and neither is the world. The tournament that began as the Crosby Pro-Am back in the 1930s has been forced to adapt to the times, as has the rest of us. 

The amateur field is not as full of celebrities as it once was decades ago. Because there are not enough celebrities who, first play golf, and also are willing and able to be part of an event that interrupts their platform. 

Is golf still a wonderful game, played by millions, and watched by as many worldwide, and fascinating to those involved as participants or spectators? And is the course named the Pebble Beach Golf Links one of the most challenging and attractive of any on the globe? However, those points almost become incidental to all but the most involved. Indeed. But not to the point we knew or they knew.

Look what’s happened to college sports, where the name-image-likeness situation has kids waiting for the best financial offer as opposed to merely the best offer. And the transfer portal has become standard fare. So has golf been similarly altered?

Everybody’s looking for the best opportunity, the best deal. The deal for the AT&T was to find a way to survive. 

The name pros particularly and some top-flight celebrity amateurs became disenchanted with rounds that lasted more than five hours and occasionally were played in miserable weather.  One of the great attractions of the tournament that began decades ago as the Crosby Pro-Am had been negated by time and progress. The erosion began in 1969 when Cypress Point, such a unique and exclusive property, open to the public only for the tournament, was taken out of the rota. Pebble Beach, the anchor course, remained one of a kind, ranking with such locations as Augusta National and St. Andrews. That still couldn’t bring the top-ranked players to the edge of the Pacific for one event out of the many on the PGA tour.

Yes, the veterans in the gallery and in the field were familiar with the great Bill Murray and his antics—and his victory one year—yet that wasn’t enough as the tournament purses grew and the field shrank.

Is it redundant to say sport itself is different? That ESPN, the Golf Channel, the Tennis Channel and every other channel has brought us an abundance—maybe an over-abundance—of sports, day and night? Whatever, there is so much out there and on the tube that what once made us attend or watch has become almost incidental. Today’s audience, understandably, is more focused on today’s stars, who they can watch almost anytime—like the NFL playoffs, for example—or any hour. The Australian Open has been shown live at 12:30 a.m. PST frequently.

The PGA Tour and the AT&T officials understand what they’re up against and thus how they must respond. The whole idea is to keep the tournament, modified as it might be from the good ole days. As the saying goes “adapt or disappear.”

Of football and fire

The contrast was being played out on our television screens. There on ESPN, as proper, the pictures and words were about the NFL. Fun and games. On CNN were scenes of tragedy, smoke and flames. One of man at his best, competition. On the other, nature at its worst, destruction. Football as scheduled. Fire as unimaginable.

Athletic heroes, at least in name. First responders and emergency personnel, heroes deserving of the label.

Fire pays no attention to status. We are all at the mercy. It’s merely a question of where the ashes land and where your residence might be. We’ve been through this before in California, but not really anything like this.

Who would have believed the entire Pacific Palisades or several miles away, Sierra Madre, would be razed? Yes, I’m a sportswriter, but I covered news through the years that included fires in Southern California, where I grew up, and Northern California, where I now reside. The Oakland Hills fire in 1991, which destroyed 2800 homes, and the Camp Fire in Butte County were awful, but what has gone on the last week and a half offers a new definition to that word. 

The frightening thing is we kept getting warned of the possibility. Not that we could do anything but worry, stay alert, and heed evacuation warnings, although sometimes we disregard the warnings because of the misplaced belief that it will never happen. 

But it happened this time.

Warriors coach, Steve Kerr, was one of the victims.  The home in which he grew up in the Pacific Palisades, close to Santa Monica, was burned to the ground. His 90-year-old mother, who evacuated, was saved. But all the trophies and awards Kerr collected in his very illustrious career—he was Michael Jordan’s teammate—are gone.

Los Angeles Lakers coach J.J. Reddick also lost his home, and when interviewed on TV seemed understandably shaken. It’s as if what occurred would have been impossible. But as we know, nothing is impossible. 

That the National Football League readily shifted the Los Angeles Rams-Minnesota Vikings playoff game on Sunday to the Arizona Cardinals’ stadium outside Phoenix was both necessary and correct. It was an inconvenience for the fans in Southern California, although busloads of them made it to the game, some 200 miles from Los Angeles. Yet the fact that the game was held at all could be acknowledged as a reassurance that the fire would not ruin all sense of normalcy.

The NFL and various outlets including all the networks broadcasting the postseason, kept telling us about how to donate for fire relief efforts. Sometimes those requests are overdone. Not after this fire. Too many lives were lost and too many buildings were lost. 

All we can do now is to retain our sense of perspective and know that sport might contribute to providing what little benefit might be possible. And thanks to those who brought us the news good and bad.

TGL: Talent (including Tiger) and gimmicks

It’s called TGL, which stands for The Golf League, and it’s as dependent on gimmicks as it is on talent and there seems to be an abundance of both.

Unlike Mark Twain’s historical definition, this golf is not a long walk spoiled but, rather a short trip to fantasyland. And perhaps to the bank. Yes, Tiger Woods is involved, as an investor and as well as a competitor and so is ESPN, a twosome in this age of gaining attention and coverage, hardly is unimportant.

"It's not golf as we know it," said Woods. Rather it's an activity to fill time when there is no NFL, NBA, Major League Baseball—or golf as we know it.

You might say it's where personalities, Tiger, Xander Schauffele, and others who have done well at locations such as Augusta National or Royal Troon, meet technology. It is held indoors right now, at SoFi Arena in West Palm Beach, Fla.—not to be confused with SoFi Stadium in Los Angeles. 

The evening begins with a bellicose announcement of the players as if they were battlers in MMA and not the PGA. There is a screen as in some golf facilities which records the distance and direction of the long iron and wood shots.  You might be familiar with one of those.  Some have you believe you are playing Pebble Beach or St. Andrews. The TGL screen is enormous—64 feet by 53 feet—and the course it depicts is not one in particular, just holes with bunkers and water hazards. The building itself is large enough for a basketball arena, and has rows of seats for fans encouraged to hoot and holler.  

The players are divided among six teams, each consisting of four PGA golfers chosen arbitrarily.  In Tuesday's inaugural, Schauffele, Rickie Fowler, Sean Lowry, Ludvig Aberg, Matt Fitzpatrick, and Wyndham Clark were involved. Each was placed on teams called New York and Palm Beach, not that this is important. If you are going to have competition the result must mean something and at the moment, who really cares other than how the players perform? After their long shots, the players then move to an artificially turfed putting green—and here come the gimmicks—which is constructed to be able to spin and undulate. So far no windmill. 

Woods did not play Tuesday but made an appearance, not surprisingly, since he is so involved.  The schedule is for him to compete in the next matches, probably for Palm Beach. 

Maybe the best part was the jabbering and needling among the golf stars, just as if they were in a practice round or friendly match.

The thinking is that the public drawn by the names will find TGL must-see stuff. Who knows?  But there are a lot of oddball shows on TV, and TGL may find its niche. After all, even a person who doesn't know a bogey from a birdie would most likely find it more compelling than Corn Hole.

If not, The Golf Channel will deliver the real goods on weekends.

Niners head toward a future of needed change

The San Francisco 49ers’ lost season has come to a close. With a loss naturally. Would you have expected anything else?  

The question now is what should be expected? Other than the fact that having recorded a painful, almost absurd 6-11 record, the Niners must improve greatly through whatever methods are possible. This includes taking an impactful player, possibly a defensive lineman, with their first pick in the 2025 NFL Draft. Due to their poor finish, they will be picking 11th in the first round.

On Sunday, in a game which, to use a phrase, was full of subs and scrubs for the Niners, San Francisco was defeated by the Arizona Cardinals 47-24. Niners starting quarterback, Brock Purdy, was kept out of a seemingly meaningless contest.  Although, in a sport all too competitive, it’s perhaps incorrect to use the description “meaningless.”

It may be better to try and look ahead rather than grimly recalling what went on the past several months, but reflecting is both necessary and appropriate. True, San Francisco chose to go with journeyman quarterback, Joshua Dobbs in place of Purdy, who injured his elbow a week ago. However, it was the defense, as has been the case of late, that cost the 49ers any chance of a win today. Arizona rolled up 436 yards on offense, an inexcusable amount for a team that hopes to win.

In a way, that’s old news. However, you need to know what happened if you are going to make a change.

“They wore us down by the third quarter,” Niners coach Kyle Shanahan pointed out. “We’ve been processing what’s been going on and got to get to work during the off-season,” he said in what is a massive understatement.

Journeyman Joshua Dobbs, in his start game of the year, taking over for Purdy, completed 29 passes of 43 attempts for a solid 326 yards and two touchdowns. The problem was he also threw two interceptions and lost a fumble. He, and the Niners, lost a top receiver when Juaun Jennings was ejected for fighting in the second quarter. Shanahan said, “I didn’t see him throw a punch, and am surprised he got ejected.” Jennings said he was being held down and couldn’t get up. As often happens, the officials failed to notice that part of the incident. 

A perfectly imperfect situation in a year when everything went wrong. 

It would be no surprise if the Niners have a placekicker other than Jake Moody next season. Moody did connect on a 51-yard field goal, but then later missed a 47-yard attempt. 

Once again, the Niners hurt themselves with penalties. They were called 13 times for 85 yards. Meanwhile, the Cardinals had only one penalty for 5 yards. Ineffective teams usually draw more penalties because the players are trying to offset a disadvantage, grabbing, pulling or beating the count.

Twelve months ago, the Niners were heading to the Super Bowl. Now they head to a questionable future. 

A rose on my seat, and the end of a streak

The press box seat was vacant. Except for a lone flower, a rose, of course, placed there by a sympathetic and understanding official. Wednesday, for the first time in roughly three-quarters of a century they were playing a Rose Bowl game in Pasadena and I wasn’t there.

Oh, I watched the game on television at home as most others, but as you might imagine it wasn’t the same. 

Streaks of any sort become obsessive and rewarding, and mine probably was both. Starting as a program salesman in 1954, and continuing as a spectator and then a sports writer, I had been to 70 consecutive Rose Bowls. No, I didn’t go to the Covid game in 2021 that moved to Texas, but if it wasn’t held in the famed stadium was it a Rose Bowl?

A pro of nothing but perhaps pertinent to everything, Ben Hogan, the golf great kept reminding us not to get old. I seemed to have missed the advice. My vision had deteriorated to the point where I couldn’t maneuver around the stadium by myself. So for safety's sake, the decision was to step away this time at least. Unfortunately. 

True, Ohio State routed Oregon, 41-21—I’ll get into that later— but it didn’t seem like the most compelling event. It was a throwback to the 1940s and 50s when the Big Ten would roll over schools from the West, winning game after game.

Still, until you have been there, it is difficult to grasp why the Rose Bowl holds such a prominent place in college football. It was the first bowl game, as the slogan quote “Granddaddy of them All” keeps us aware. The setting is particularly special, in the Arroyo Seco, surrounded by trees and a rustic area of homes, all set against the backdrop of the Sierra Madre's towering peaks. It would be a great place, even without the football game. Sunset is the best time of day when the game is coming to an end and the peaks to the East turn purple. Maybe even the stunned Oregon fans could appreciate the beauty.

There is a saying about football, “you don’t know, you can’t know, you never will know.”  We certainly had no idea what would happen when an undefeated Oregon team, which had beaten Ohio State by a point in September, would again face off against the Buckeyes. But we found out all too quickly. The game was decided halfway through the first quarter, Ohio State simply was too strong. You almost thought about the Buckeye teams when grumpy Woody Hayes was the coach, with his “3 yards and a cloud of dust offense.” Maybe the game was an unsuspected mismatch, but as almost always, the weather was great, as it usually is. 

The last time there was appreciable rain for the Rose Bowl Game was 1955 and interestingly, Ohio State was one of the opponents. Yes, the Buckeyes won but Hayes memorably complained about the band of the other team, USC, marching on the soggy field at half-time. He always needed something about which to be unhappy. Until the final score.

That was my second Rose Bowl and I got drenched, but I went home, changed my wet clothes, and told myself, you have to come back again.

I did. Again and again and again. Until this year.