Sphere's your culprit

PROVIDING more than ample evidence that no other sport can disappear up its own backside quicker or more effectively, the last couple of weeks or so have seen professional golf produce more than a few tabloid-style tales. And we can't even blame Tiger's salacious shenanigans – at least not directly.

One American, Scott McCarron, accused another, multiple major champion Phil Mickelson, of being "a cheat" for using a club that, but for an esoteric legal injunction from as far back as the early 1990s, would be considered illegal in the United States. Another Grand Slam winner, Padraig Harrington, admitted to at least considering the same "rule bending" (as Lee Westwood more aptly put it) that brought so much scorn and ridicule upon Mickelson. Then, just to round things off, good old "Lefty" labelled the game's ruling bodies "ridiculous."

All of the above happened because of the grooves on our irons. Or so we are led to believe. More accurately, this nonsense occurred because the United States Golf Association and the Royal & Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews – finally reacting to what has been more than obvious for more than a while – knocked their greying heads together, took a look at the "fairways hit" statistics and concluded that any connection between success at the highest level and accuracy off the tee was becoming ever more tenuous.

That basic fact seems to have been largely forgotten amidst all the recent headline-making childishness. For this whole affair – all of it – has little or nothing to do with whether or not "square" grooves impart more spin on the ball from rough than do "V" grooves. That folks, is but a peripheral issue, one that, for 99.9999999 per cent of the golfing population, is all but irrelevant 99.9999999 per cent of the time.

Oh no, this is ultimately about the ball, the little white sphere Woods and his mates routinely launch unprecedented distances; the small, 1.68" diameter globe that has rendered so many of the planet's truly great course designs obsolete for championship play; the petite pellet that has caused club committees the world over to spend unnecessary millions in whatever currency you care to mention on "improving" and lengthening those same courses.

In other words, this whole grooves thing is but a smokescreen erected by the USGA and the R&A to disguise their collective incompetence and inactivity in dealing with a ball that goes way too far when struck by a leading professional. And that, of course, is what the world of golf should currently be talking about, not the tedious subject of grooves on the faces of clubs. Were the ball to be "fixed" so that, say, 50 yards came off Mickelson et al's future drives, then nothing else need be done in the realm of equipment. Nothing else would matter. Not even a little bit.

Even better, shorter drives (and so, longer second shots) would in turn set off an overdue and positive chain reaction. No more would great courses have to be "tricked up" in order to "protect" the premises from this one-dimensional generation of siege gunners.

Think about it. Fairways narrowed to the point where they barely exist could be restored to the widths originally envisaged by the course designer. Long grass could become much shorter grass, thereby making the game more interesting – does anyone enjoy hacking out of overgrown rough? – and restoring what Jack Nicklaus calls the "most exciting shot in golf," the risky recovery. Just as importantly, mowing the rough would make a round of golf less time consuming. Not looking for lost balls has to be a good thing.

Sadly, of course, we haven't been talking about any of those blights on a game that is a lot less fun to play than it used to be and, at least at the highest level, a lot less fun to watch. Instead, we have been treated to adolescent silliness from supposed adults, with the biggest culprit being Mickelson, pictured below. Rather than make serious points about any or all of the ball-related topics highlighted here, the world's best left-hander resorted to what was not much more than playground name-calling. The presence of the much-maligned – but technically legal – square-grooved pre-1990 model Ping Eye-2 wedge in his bag last week had nothing to do with making golf a better game and everything to do with Mickelson making an insignificantly petty point to the USGA's equipment guru, Dick Rugge. The two have apparently been at odds for some time over the grooves issue.

Now, having metaphorically thumbed his nose at the unfortunate Rugge, Mickelson has returned the aforementioned Eye-2 to his garage and has these past few days been reunited with the Callaway wedge he is paid gazillions of dollars to carry. If only he had acted more like a grown-up and uttered something of lasting significance that might just make the professional game more stimulating for both spectators and players alike.

Mickelson would have been better employed sounding off about, say, the long putter (ironically an implement used by McCarron, who presumably lacks the requisite nerve wielding a standard blade). He could have pointed out that those who anchor the butt end of a grip below their chins cannot make a proper golf stroke. Had he done so, his many and varied opinions would surely command a bit more respect.

There is so much that needs to be said and done. Phil could have suggested that the putter must be the shortest club in the bag. He could have recommended that the maximum loft on wedges be set at 55-degrees, or that ten rather than 14 be the maximum number of clubs allowed. Any of those would restore some of the skills lost to the game over the last decade and a bit.

But he didn't say any of the above. And we are left to wonder why. As five-time Open champion Tom Watson declared just the other day: it's all about the ball, people. Never forget that.