Weekley’s weekend

Tiger Woods might be the best golfer ever. He might be the most talented golfer ever.

He might be the golfer who attracts the biggest crowds. He might be the only reason golf is prominent in the United States these days.

He might be God.

But last weekend, only one thing kept running through my mind: Tiger who?

From Friday to Sunday, the United States did something in the Ryder Cup (which puts the U.S. vs. Europe in a team golf event) it hasn’t done since 1999 – win.  

And we did it without Tiger.

But they didn’t just win. They dominated. The final score was 16.5 to 11.5.
And the man doing most of the dominating – Boo Weekley.

Boo who?

Oh, don’t cry Europe. It’s just golf.

You know, that game you invented and have dominated for the past few centuries. The game you started playing in your kilts with your tire irons. The game you live and breathe over the pond.

But back to Boo.

I follow golf enough to know that Boo has game. I knew he could play. I knew he wouldn’t collapse on the big stage.

But what I didn’t know is that Boo is freaking crazy.

Boo single-handedly took Lee Westwood, one of Europe’s best competitors, mentally out of the game. In the team events on Friday and Saturday, Boo beat Lee’s team on Saturday after halving Friday.

Boo then continued on Sunday to spank Oliver Wilson 4 and 2 in singles play.
But Boo was so in Westwood’s head he got Westwood complaining about the crowd on Friday night.

That is right. Boo didn’t necessarily win with his clubs. He won with his head.
From the first hole on Friday, Boo was getting the crowd pumped up. He was waving his arms trying to get them yelling and screaming. He was a one-man inspirational slow clap.

He acted the part of a crazy man, and his interviewing solidified the idea.

He was quoted saying, “I feel like a dog that somebody done stuck a needle to, and it juiced me up like I’ve been running around a greyhound track chasing one of them bunnies.”

And when asked what the bunny tasted like after he had caught it, he said “chicken.”
Quotes aside, the most important play of Boo’s life came on Sunday, after his tee shot on the first hole. Boo rode his driver Happy Gilmore-style galloping down the first fairway, which is an image that will be burned in my brain for the rest of my life.

We were one beer-can helmet away from Westwood doing his best Shooter McGavin impression by beating a beach ball with his putter and telling the crowd to go back to their “shanties.”

Boo made a name for himself last weekend.

He took America’s quietest and most prestigious crowds and made them look like the infield at the Kentucky Derby.

Now, all Boo needs to do is take up hockey, take off his skate and try to stab somebody.