Q:  What’s the difference between a car and a golf ball?

A: Tiger can drive the golf ball at least 350 yards.

Q:  What were Tiger Woods and his wife doing out at 2.30 in the morning?

A:  They went clubbing.

Tiger Woods crashed into a fire hydrant and a tree. He couldn’t decide between a wood and an iron.

Tiger been dropped from the Ryder Cup team as his terrible record at being beaten by the Europeans continues.

News travels fast. The Chinese are already making a movie about Tiger Woods’ crash. They are calling it, ” Scratching Swede, Lying Tiger.

What do Tiger Woods and baby seals have in common?? They’re both clubbed by Norwegians !

Phil Mickelson contacted Tiger’s wife to pick up some tips on how to beat Tiger.

Bugger global warming, world peace, or the financial meltdown in Dubai, the world is agog with news about Tiger and his personal affairs (pun very much intended).

The Granny Herald had the following headline:

Golf: Tiger pulls out of tournament

Without wishing to lower discussion here (below the normal basement level), but it appears to me that the problem appears to be that Tiger should have pulled out much much earlier than he did!

Golfus interruptus?

Here’s a question.

If Tiger’s playing around (on his wife), does Steve Williams still handle his number one wood?

This is suspicious … mother-in-law gets hit in the back of the head and dies.

Guy tells the cops it’s an accident!

Yeah right.

Janet Llewellyn, 66, was playing on a nine-hole course with Ronnie Battersby when she was hit in the back of the head by his tee shot, it is understood.

Normally the way I play the safest place to stand in front of me would be the middle of the fairway.

There’s something about a train crash played out in front of our own eyes … or at least the camera.

If you’ve ever played golf, then you understand why the guy is still a cult hero.

The bloke drinks, smokes, gambles, loses it all and starts all over again, and again, and again.

Yet he can still smack a ball down the fairway and, most ridiculously of all, he’s got soft touches around the green.

Yes he’s crude, rude, and oh so loud.

And that’s just his trousers.  Love the durry too … the man is all class but who wouldn’t want to play 18 holes (ok 19!) with JD.

Yet another example of life being stranger than fiction (actually, there’s a lot of good Split Enz titles with a sports twist … I See Red, Six Months in Leaky Boat (about the Knights)).

Anyway, I digress.

You can now get flavoured golf tees.  You know, so you can suck on them.

I don’t need flavoured tees because my game sucks as it is.

Actually you’d then the tees will complement NZ courses well – the mint will go well with the sheep shit

Read about it here.

The NZHerald has announced Michael Campbell as their sportsperson of the year.

Shock, horror, faux surprise.

Next, they will announce Helen Clark as Prime Minister (altho that may surprise Winston).

He will be Maori sportseverything of the year.

He will be the Halberg sportseverything of the year.

No more to be said on that topic!

As they say, a bad day at golf still beats a good day at the office.

The Scene: The Holden Scramble at Wainuiomata. What a course

The Players: T, P, and DD. P and DD expected T to carry the day.

Team talk at 9, practise at the course 9.30-10 and at the tee at 10.15 for a 10.30 tee. Somehow, we didn’t find out that the start had been put back half an hour but we did wonder why were were the ONLY group who knew when tee off was.

Straight down the middle of the first hole – we should have given up then.

Nothing much went our way. Or you could be less charitable and say we were crap.

My particular highlight (we were playing ambrose) was putting last and missing the same three foot putt T and P had missed and then missing the 9 inch “tap in”.

The saddest part of it all was that after spending 5 hours on the course, we had the option of heading straight back to the 19th for a well deserved drink or playing back along the 18th. So we played the 18th for a second time while the other group scampered back to the clubhouse!

So the Three Sad Amingos tried and failed but we will ride again (if our wives let us).

It will be a short one tonight, as the bishop said to the priest … oops, I mean actress.

I’m in training for the Holden Scramble.

While it may sound like a mad dash for a car wearing a black t-shirt and a mullet, it is in fact a golf tournament for wannabees.

I wannabee long and straight – off the tee that is!

With my short irons, I want be high and on the spot without having to go through what Marc Ellis went.

With the putts, I want to sink ‘em like the Aussie Am Cup yacht.

I’m not asking for much, am I?

I was thinking about lashing out at Tony Veith and his third form sense of humour this morning but decided I should be more positive and celebrate some genuine Kiwi success.

Given that I lived for nearly 5 years in Titahi Bay, I’m almost a local. I’ve even played a couple of rounds at the famous Titahi Bay course so if I was a politician I could easily try to claim credit for Michael Campbell’s success. Conversely, no one can take the blame for my golf altho it is tempting to try at some stage.

MC did once famous blame the Aliens who took over his body … it was a great quote and anyone who has played bad golf will understand what he meant.

Bear in mind, MC’s idea of a bad round sounds pretty good to most of it.

Still, every hacker understands that from time to time our body seems to do things the brain didn’t actually ask it. As an example, you’ve been slicing all day so you aim a little further left and what happens … you hit it straight into crap on the left!

So when Sir Michael (as he surely would have been except for Herr Helen’s PC activism) said what all golfers felt, we chuckled and said something along the lines of “good one, bro, now hit shit out of the next one down the middle”.

Instead the media latched on to it and for a while our Michael (I am a Bay boy, remember that!) was the butt of the media’s jokes and comments. It was all to easy to poke fun at MC and belittle his chances at regaining any form.

Now, the simpering syconphantic sports commentators are kissing the same butt they were kicking a few short years ago.

I’m delighted for MC – I don’t know him and he wouldn’t give a rats what I think. But I am delighted that he has shown that in golf the biggest challenge is not the course or the other golfers but the inner demons – the doubts, the fears, the brain explosions.

Not only has MC stuck it up the other golfers this year, there’s a few in the media choking on their mikes and pens too.