Indian Wells: Few fans, and now no Medvedev

INDIAN WELLS, Calif. — “It’s quarter to three, there’s no one in the place except you and me…” Yes, Sinatra, about the end of a brief episode.

Now it’s quarter to three on a Wednesday, and while there were more than you and me at the Indian Wells Tennis Garden, it didn’t seem like many more.

Maybe 1,500 people were scattered about the 16,100-seat Stadium 1, other than Arthur Ashe Stadium in New York the largest tennis facility in the world.

It was a classic autumn afternoon in the California desert, 78 degrees, and while the match that just finished wasn’t classic, it was interesting — and surprising.

Grigor Dimitrov, waking up the echoes, upset the No. 1 seed, and winner of the recent U.S. Open, Daniil Medvedev, 4-6, 6-4. 6-3.

Not a good tournament for Medvedev, struggling to get atop the rankings over Novak Djokovic, whom he stunned in the final of the Open two and a half weeks ago.

Not a particularly good tournament for the BNP Paribas Open, mainly for reasons beyond its control.

The fact the BNP even was held, following a delay of two and a half years because of Covid-19, is a tribute to the sponsors and the ATP and WTA, respectively the associations in charge of big-time pro tennis.

The BNP always had been in early spring. The decision to take a chance with a temporary October return was dangerous and courageous, breaking tradition and battling issues. Proof of vaccination was required to enter the grounds; children under 12 could not be vaccinated, a factor that contributed to a lack of attendance.

And as we’re aware, fall means football, especially for television. The BNP has been on the Tennis Channel, but other than the true fans, who even cared?

And with changes because of time and injuries, the big guns, the players who made Indian Wells a must-see event — Roger Federer, Serena Williams, Rafael Nadal — were missing, one reason the fans are missing.

A mid-afternoon match on Wednesday never is going to pack the place, but you’d have thought a match between a man who is No. 2 in the world and one, Dimitrov, who four years ago was No. 3, might draw.

Or maybe, given all the factors, you wouldn’t have thought that.

What a disappointed Medvedev — who was up a set and a break — thought was that the loss to the 28th-ranked Dimitrov could be blamed on a lot of things, including Dimitrov.

A lack of fans was not among them, however.

“Tennis is not about just one thing,” said Medvedev, a Russian whose English, while fine, is not perfect. “First of all, I mean, to lose four times the serve is just unacceptable. Yeah, that's why I lost the set.

“I don't remember myself losing three service games, even four service games ever, I guess, on hard courts. That shows how slow this court is and the conditions, more like clay, I would say, which I don't like, because to lose four times the serve is just unacceptable. Yeah, that's why I lost the set.”

The sun bothered him, too. He likes night matches. Hey, a great player adapts. Or does he want lights at Wimbledon?

“Second,“ said Medvedev, “I knew that during the day, much tougher to control the ball for me, especially on the serve. That's what we saw in some moments I couldn't pass my first serve. That's why I was asking to play at night, but this time it was not possible because I had a day off where other and were supposed to play today, so they were playing late at night. That's completely normal, but I knew it's not going to advantage me.”

He did offer kind words about Dimitrov.

“Grigor, going to be straightforward, if he plays like this, like he did starting from (down)  4-1, he's going to win the tournament. But let's see the final result of the tournament.”

When the stands will be full.

After a dark and stormy night, the sun shines at Indian Wells

INDIAN WELLS, Calif. — "Ladies and gentlemen," said the guy with the microphone at courtside, "Andy Murray."

Indeed, it was, specifically, Sir Andrew Baron Murray OBE. Except instead of entering, he was departing.

A quick turn, a wave of appreciation to fans who had just seen another one of their favorites lose in semi-rapid fashion — Leylah Fernandez was the other — and the BNP Paribas Open was without another top attraction.

That's the way it is so often is in tennis, where the talent is relatively balanced — especially with no Serena, Roger or Rafa — and a double fault or wide backhand may be the difference between staying around or moving on.

It's been said perhaps all too often: Tennis is as much a sport of names as much as games. It's Hollywood in sneakers, a legitimate analogy down here in the desert where streets are names for Bob Hope and Frank Sinatra.

The star system is paramount, and that is why Leylah Fernandez, who got prime time during the U.S. Open, got most of the cheers Tuesday on Stadium Court One, even though Shelby Rogers got their match, 2-6, 6-1, 7-6 (4), to advance to the quarterfinals.

A short time later, Alexander Zerev, who was a finalist in this year's U.S. Open, which did get him some status even if it didn't get him the title, defeated Murray, 6-4, 7-6. Promoting a tennis tournament ain't easy even if the tournament's held at Larry Ellison's expensive and magnificent facility near Palm Springs.

This comeback year — the BNP used to be in March, until it was halted by the Covid-19 surge in 2020 — it happens to be the same time and not too far away from the Giants-Dodgers playoffs.

Then on Monday night, it had weather woes. Up in L.A. for Game 3, there was high wind. Down here, we had rain in the desert. In October. Tuesday, as a sparse few spectators huddled under stairways and entrance tunnels, I was tempted to borrow from Snoopy, the familiar beagle and begin a story, "It was a dark and stormy night...”

Of course, Tuesday, like the lyrics of a song, the clouds were gone from around 10,000-foot Mount San Jacinto, skies were blue and the athletes and fans could shed their jackets and their doubts.

Poor Francis Tiafoe, the American. He got soaked literally and figuratively, beaten by Hubert Hurkacz, 6-3, 6-2. The match started in a downpour at 6:10 p.m., and after starts and stops and splashes and drips ended in a mist at 9:15.

Tough luck for the contestants and fans, but the next morning the courts were dry, and Rogers was en route to a victory over Fernandez.

"She's had such an incredible season," Rogers said of Fernandez.

Rogers' season was maybe less incredible, but it included an upset of the world's number 2 ranked female player, Ash Barty, in the U.S. Open.

"I thought it was an incredible battle (Tuesday). And we both played really well at times. It was a sort of tug-of-war at times. It was really about who was dictating play."

But it usually is. Once in a while, a great counter-puncher takes the match. Usually, it's the player who has control.

So often in sports the comments deal with possibility and no reality, about what might have been had a ball not gone out. So perhaps it is best to ignore the idea that Murray, working his way back from two knee surgeries, would have returned to the top 100 with a victory over Hurkacz.

"I don't want to get back to the top 100," Murray said. "I want to get back to the top 10."

Laylah Fernandez is almost already is there.

Will Leylah become the star that women’s tennis needs?

INDIAN WELLS, Calif. — She’s Canadian, which in these days of proscribed determinations means she can’t be America’s Tennis Sweetheart.

So, we concede and declare Leylah Fernandez North America’s sweetheart.

That works doesn’t it? Especially now that citizens of the United States are permitted again to cross the border and also play baseball up there against the Blue Jays — until they were eliminated.

However she’s listed, there’s no question Fernandez is what the game never has too much of, a young, aggressive player loaded with personality and confidence who’s not afraid to make a comment or hit a sliced backhand.

The non-tennis types — meaning most of us — were unaware of Fernandez until the U.S. Open a few weeks back when, defying predictions if not logic, she turned up in the finals days after turning 19.

That she was beaten by another of the new generation, 18-year-old Emma Raducanu, who also was born in Canada but then moved to England, did nothing to diminish Fernandez’s prospects or popularity.

Is it too much to say that fans at the Open in New York loved the young lady almost as much as the Yankees? Probably, but who cares?

Fernandez has reached the third round of the BNP Paribas Open, and on Monday night in a third-round match she’ll play Shelby Rogers of the U.S., who if she doesn’t have Fernandez’s backstory has some big-time wins, including one over top-ranked Ash Barty in the recent U.S. Open.

It’s the sort of match that tennis can use any time but particularly when it’s going against the fourth game of the Giants-Dodgers playoff 125 miles up the interstate at Dodger Stadium.

Raducanu was here at Indian Wells, oh so briefly, losing her opening match — after which the London Daily Express criticized her for breaking up with her coach.

That’s unlikely to happen for Fernandez. Her coach is her father, Jorge, a one-time soccer player from Ecuador.

“Every day we just got to keep working hard, we got to keep going for it,” Fernandez said after one of her victories at the Open.

“Nothing’s impossible. There’s no limit to what I can do. I’m glad that right now everything’s going well. My dad would tell me all the time there’s no limit to my potential to what I can do.”

So true, but the tennis battlegrounds are littered with the optimism of those who won quickly and then disappeared from the rankings. It’s one thing to get there; it’s something else to stay there.

Consistency is the mark of champions, especially in tennis where the venues and opponents continue to change. Monday morning at Indian Wells, 20 miles from Palm Springs, the weather was perfect. By afternoon, the wind was sweeping through the San Gorgonio Pass.

Fernandez didn’t exactly sweep through her second-round match Sunday night, outlasting the ninth seed, Anastasia Pavlyuchena, 5-7, 6-3, 6-4.

Now, after the Open, in every match Fernandez carries a burden of expectations, hers as much as those of fans and media.

“I did not play my best tennis,” said Fernandez, “made a few mistakes here and there, and she took advantage of it. I was glad I was able to fight back in the second set and figure a way to get the ball back in one more time, take my chances when I got them.”

With the advancing age (40) and not infrequent injuries of Serena Williams, tennis — mainly women’s tennis, North American women’s tennis — will require a new player of charisma and talent to attract fans the way Serena did.

Maybe that player is Leylah Fernandez. Maybe not.

“I am a person who is an introvert, likes puzzles.” said Fernandez after the second round of the BNP. ”I like figuring things out, Sudoku, Rubik's cubes, figuring out problems.”

Tennis is waiting to find out if Fernandez will be able to solve the question of whether she’ll be a star.

BNP Paribas is back — facing Giants-Dodgers

INDIAN WELLS, Calif. — They brought back the tennis tournament, known as the fifth Slam — yes, a bit of an overstatement — after a Covid-19 halt that made you wonder if it ever would return.

Which is not that much of an overstatement these confusing days of masks, vaccines and protests.

The BNP Paribas Open not only finds itself going against the Dodgers-Giants playoff up Interstate 10 — of considerably greater interest down here in Dodgers’ territory — but also losing one of its prime attractions, Emma Raducanu, ousted after her first match.

The BNP was played for years in March, the first tournament of note after the Australian Open, a perfect time and perfect place — the desert near Palm Springs, 125 miles southeast of L.A. — to get stars and get attention.

But you know what has happened, and the happenings began at the BNP or, as it also is called, Indian Wells.

In the early spring of 2020, it was the first sporting event cancelled because of the coronavirus. There was disbelief. Then, as the weeks moved on and the NBA and baseball were derailed, dismay. Golf followed. So did soccer.

Now the renaissance, in a manner of speaking. The weather is spectacular — the high temperature at 4 p.m. Sunday was 88 degrees. The tennis isn’t bad either, Andy Murray rallying to beat Carlos Alcarez, the precocious 18-year-old Spaniard, 5-7, 6-3, 6-2.

Along with the U.S. Open in September, the BNP is on a new track without an older generation. No Roger Federer, of course, out because of knee surgery. No Rafael Nadal, left foot injury. No Serena Williams, calf injury. No Novak Djokovic — he decided the tournament he once described as his favorite wasn’t worth flying from one continent to another.

Long ago, the people who controlled another sport based on individual performance, golf, would complain when the media, then known as the press, emphasized who wasn’t entered over who was entered.

The reason is obvious. That’s who people wanted to see, primarily Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus and later Tiger Woods. It didn’t mean the others aren’t any good. They were damn good. They just didn’t prove exciting enough to fill the seats or push up the TV ratings.

Murray and Alcarez met on Indian Wells No. 2 stadium court. The crowd grew as the match progressed, but it never packed the place.

Alcarez was a quarterfinalist in this year’s U.S. Open, Impressive although nothing to make anyone believe he’s the new Nadal — and even if he is, potential is not to be compared with results.

Murray has some of those results. He’s won three Grand Slams, and although that’s not close to the 20 each for Nadal, Federer and Djokovic. he’s the breaker, the first man from Britain in 77 years to win Wimbledon.

If that isn’t special, nothing is.

Andy had debilitating injuries and considered retirement. Finally he submitted to hip surgery, and his dedication was reflected in a comeback effort in a match that lasted nearly five hours in the recent U.S. Open.

His effort was praised highly and deservedly in the British press, but he’s now 33 and much nearer the end of a brilliant career than the beginning.

Murray is back. The BNP Paribas is back, in the same venue, the Indian Wells Tennis Garden, built by Larry Ellison, if being held in an unusual situation, against an historic baseball rivalry.

And just for the heck of it, a few days ago the Warriors and Lakers played an NBA exhibition game in Los Angeles.

Tennis, baseball, basketball. We’ve been told too much of a good thing can be wonderful. We’ll find out from the way the BNP Paribas tennis tournament gets treated by the media and by the fans.

For Giants, unexpected win was not a surprise

SAN FRANCISCO — This was not expected, the way the Giants easily took the game that gave them the National League West division championship.   

Yet in a way, that’s hardly a surprise.

Almost from the start, practically everything the Giants have done — shrugging off the forecasts that predicted they would be fortunate to win more games than they lost, shrugging off the Dodgers — has been unexpected.

The long season, 162 games, had become wonderfully short, down to one of those 162. That’s the beauty of baseball. The beauty of this year’s Giants team is when they needed to show their character and talent.

Would San Francisco, after running in front since May and then dropping into a tie with those Dodgers, collapse Sunday against the Padres? Not a worry.

San Francisco left no room for doubt or questions unanswered in its 11-4 win Sunday, with Logan Webb pitching and hitting his first major league homer, with Buster Posey getting two hits to reach 1,500 for his career, with Tommy La Stella and Wilmer Flores contributing to a five-run fourth inning.

No nerve-wracking, one-game wild card for the Giants. For the first time in eight years, no division title for the Dodgers. For Giants chief executive Larry Baer and president of baseball operations Farhan Zaidi, a chance to put on those black championship T-shirts, get down on the field and celebrate.

This was a great day for the players, posing on the mound at Oracle Park after the final out of the team-record 107th win; a great day for the execs, including manager Gabe Kapler, who in two seasons helped transform a losing franchise; a great day for the more than 36,000 fans at Oracle, sharing the excitement.

The people in the stands are no less important than those on the diamond, and when the ballplayers show their appreciation by tossing a ball into the crowd or waving at the spectators, baseball is at its best.

The Giants have been at their best for a long while. They may get eliminated quickly in the playoffs, but criticism be damned. They’ve already succeeded.

It was the Padres, with Fernando Tatis Jr. and Manny Machado, who were supposed to challenge the Dodgers. But the Sunday loss to the Giants was a reflection of the miserable, underachieving San Diego season. The Pads finished below .500 — which is where some thought the Giants would finish.

And for those fans who chanted “Beat L.A.,” even though the game didn’t involve L.A., in the 2021 standings the Giants did beat L.A. By a game.

Baer was asked if all the preseason talk about the Dodgers — who, after all, did win the 2020 World Series — and Padres concerned him.

“As long as I can remember, it’s been Dodgers and Giants,” said Baer. He referred to the date, October 3, 70 years to the day when Bobby Thomson of the New York Giants hit the “shot heard ‘round the world” to beat the Dodgers for the pennant in 1951.

History, and now the Giants are seeking more, in their own method, without overpriced superstars but with expressions of confidence.

After the game, Kapler told the elated fans he felt the Giants’ “intangibles hadn’t been considered,“ and the first intangible is toughness. “The veterans in that clubhouse,” he said, “came out right away and said, ‘We respect the competition, but we’re not conceding anything, we want to win the division.’” 

They did exactly that. “For them to back that up,” said Kapler, “with the season we’ve had is pretty amazing.”

And very unexpected.

Behind U.S. Ryder Cup win: Youth and talent

KOHLER, Wis. — This time, this renaissance Ryder Cup, Americans were left shaking hands instead of shaking their heads.

This time golfers in their 20s, and yet in their prime, overcame the nonsensical idea there’s something lacking in the character of those who play for the United States.

This time the U.S., led by Collin Morikawa and Patrick Cantlay — in truth, by all those kids under the leadership of captain Steve Stricker — snatched back the Cup in America’s Dairyland, Wisconsin, also Stricker’s home state.

It was inevitable after two days of this three-day event, when the U.S. stormed to a 11-5 lead before Sunday’s singles, that America would win. Which it did by a final score of 18-9 — the most lopsided American triumph in the last 15 matches.

Europe had been dominant in recent years, however, taking seven of the previous nine tournaments and lording it over the U.S.

When Europe won, in a rout, at Detroit’s Oakland Hills in 2006, a 24-year-old Euro team member from Spain, Sergio Garcia, gloated, “I think that this whole team and also myself, we just live for this.”

Did the Cup mean more to Europe than the U.S.? Until the pandemic, Euro fans came to America to sing and cheer. U.S. players were stung by stories saying the Euros won because they got along with each other, because they were more emotional than Americans.

It grated on the U.S. players. So did losing.

“They have run the score up on us before,” said Tony Finau on Saturday night, although as one of the rookies he had not been involved in those Cup matches. “And if we have the opportunity, we are going to run it up on them (Sunday).”

In effect they did, but golf is not like football. You just play as well as you can, hitting balls down fairways and into the cup. You only run up the score if the other side doesn’t play well.

Which was the problem for Europe. Garcia now is 41, even though he and countryman Jon Rahm teamed successfully — the Spanish Armada — and Rahm was routed in singles by Scottie Scheffler.

Paul Casey, a longtime Euro Ryder Cupper, is 44. Ian Poulter, the emotional leader, is 45.

Morikawa, the Cal grad (and British Open and PGA champ) is 24. Bryson DeChambeau is 28. And Brooks Koepka, while a veteran and winner of two U.S. Opens and two PGA Championships, is only 31. Dustin Johnson, who won all five of his Ryder Cup matches, is a bit older at 37.

And then there’s Jordan Spieth, 29, winner of three majors. He’d been on losing Ryder Cup teams overseas, heard the fans taunt and chant. On Sunday, he heard Americans, jammed on the Whistling Straits course along Lake Michigan, shout again and again, ”U.S.A., U.S.A.”

“I've only lost one other one, and it's dismal,” said Poulter. “You know, watching the guys out on 18 enjoying themselves is something that you come into this week with visions of that happening for you as a team.

“We've got a great team this week, and we were outplayed. Every session was difficult. They did their job, and they made it painful for us today, and this one's going to hurt for a bit.”

What’s going to hurt even more is the realization that a change has occurred. The old guard — yes, that includes Lee Westwood, a 1-up winner Sunday over Harris English — is finished.

The next Ryder Cup, in Italy, isn’t until 2023. Europe will need new talent. The U.S. already has that new talent.

“It was a full team effort, and everyone contributed and everyone put in their full efforts to make sure this week was going to play well,” said Morikawa, part of that new American talent.

“And obviously, coming out on top feels really, really good.”

Obviously. Finally.

Stricker’s deep team closing in on Ryder Cup

KOHLER, Wis. — Even Steve Stricker, a man of measured words who offers a classic Midwestern approach, felt obliged to boast about the U.S. Ryder Cup squad he is privileged to captain.

“Yeah, this team is deep,” Stricker said Saturday. “They are so good, and they have had a great couple of years to make this team.

“Everybody came in ready and prepared. They are hitting it well. They came all on board.”

They came eager to regain the Cup, to regain the prestige that in the days of Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer was American golf. And with only one round remaining, the 12 singles matches Sunday, it seems they’ve done exactly that.

Yes, it’s not over until the fat lady sings or the slender golf pro swings, and yes, there was the Miracle at Medinah in 2012, when the Euros rallied impossibly. But this time, after two days of team play, two foursome matches and two four-ball matches, America is ahead, 11-6, although on Saturday Europe got more involved with victories.

The U.S. needs three and a half points to get the trophy for only the second time in the last six Ryder Cups.

With that deep team, loaded with major champions, Collin Morikawa, Dustin Johnson, Jordan Spieth, Justin Thomas, Brooks Koepka, and Bryson DeChambeau — and Olympic champion Xander Schauffele — it will get those points.

No more to hear the Euro fans, who take these matches seriously — and gloriously — with that irritating chant, “Ole, ole, ole.”

It’s an issue of manpower. You go down the line and eventually someone produces, that is if everyone doesn’t produce.

Jon Rahm and Sergio Garcia, the Spaniards, were undefeated on the Whistling Straits course the first two days, Garcia earning a Ryder Cup record 24th victory.

But it’s been two against too many.

In foursomes, how about a U.S. grouping of Morikawa, a British Open and PGA Championship winner, and Johnson, who has a U.S. Open?

Or a team of longtime pals Jordan Spieth, who’s won the Masters, British and U.S. Opens, and Thomas, who has a PGA Championship?

Dustin smashes the tee shots. Collin follows with balls on the green. Team play to the utmost.

No bickering, no sniggering, just golfing — and good times.

”We are playing really good golf as a team,” said Spieth, although he and Koepka lost Saturday afternoon to the guys nicknamed the Spanish Armada.

“Everybody is pretty confident in each other,” said Spieth. “And we said it from the get-go. We have all known each other for a long time. Other than a couple of us, we have known each other since high school or even grade school. We are having a blast off the course, and that's feeding into the lightness in our rounds as well.”

All 12 of the American team members earned at least a half point the first two days, a fitting example of balance.

“Obviously, the conditions have been pretty difficult,”  said Johnson about morning chill and constant wind off adjacent Lake Michigan. “But I feel like I've just played solid. Not trying to do anything too crazy.

“Just keep the ball in play, especially in foursomes where we're out there and pars are good scores, especially on a lot of these holes.”

Stricker was not displeased splitting the Saturday four-ball matches.

“This afternoon session was an important one,” he pointed out. “If they blank us, they get right back in the game. Splitting the session was a good outcome for us.”

The best outcome is yet to come.

“You know, we'll have an hour once we get in to kind of put our lineup out and get ready for (Sunday),” he said.

“But you know, it's about getting these guys some rest. It's a long two days when they are out here all day playing 36, some of these guys, and yeah, so get back to the hotel, eat and rest.”

Then go out for a very big day in American golf.

U.S. Ryder Cuppers get along — and get ball into cup

KOHLER, Wis.— So the first day of the Ryder Cup, American golfers disproved the idea they can’t get along, or more importantly can’t get the ball into the cup.

Maybe our culture isn’t all that bad at that. It’s obvious our golfers are quite good.

Not only did the U.S. build up a 6-2 lead — you need 14½ points to claim the Cup when play finishes
Sunday — but in the process, American players scored wins over a couple of nemeses from the European team who once were unbeatable, Rory McIlroy and Ian Poulter.

In the foursomes matches on Friday morning, team rookies Patrick Cantlay and Xander Schauffele combined to win each of the first five holes and overwhelmed McIlroy and Poulter, 5 and 3.

“I don't know if anyone could have beat Xander and Patrick today,” said Poulter. ”They played really good, four birdies in a row. Geeze, yeah, they played great.”

Geeze, yeah, so did every American playing in what could be described as a home game, on the Whistling Straits course along Lake Michigan, north of Milwaukee and south of Green Bay.

U.S. golfers — meaning golfers who have U.S. passports and not those who just live and play in the U.S. — have been spoiling for a day like this.

Team Europe had won the Cup four of the last five times, the American failures blamed on everything from a lack of team chemistry to a reliance on power over finesse.

Euros, we’re told, are better at communication, although how this helps when you’re alone on the tee is a mystery.

The way Bryson DeChambeau hits a ball is no mystery, however. On the 581-yard, par-5 fifth hole, teamed with Scottie Scheffler in the afternoon better ball, DeChambeau smashed a 417-yard drive. Seventy-two yards from the pin, he wedged close enough for an eagle 3.

DeChambeau and Scheffler halved that match with Jon Rahm and Tyrell Hatton. Rahm, the Spaniard who won the U.S. Open — and went to Arizona State — was responsible for half of the Euros’ two total points.

The American players were, well, pleased and wary. Things can turn quickly, although it’s doubtful they will. This U.S. team is young but experienced.

Asked about the inability of he and DeChambeau to close out a match in which they were 1-up with a hole to play, Scheffler said, “Yeah, especially in best-ball you have to hit good shots and make birdies down the stretch.

“Bryson made a good par on 15, which was more like a birdie. Made a nice birdie on 16. Got out of position on 18. Overall I’m pleased with how we played. I think we played really solid. A few mistakes here and there, but other than that, a really solid day.”

Emotions were pouring out as the pro-American crowd chanted. DeChambeau was asked how he could keep calm.

“It's going back to your bubble when you're about to hit a shot,” DeChambeau said, “doing your best to control your emotions in that way. I learned from Phil (Mickelson) in that, and I have a great partner and loved every minute of it and hope we can do it again soon. We are a good team, and we're going to dominate.”

Which for a day the U.S. squad also did. Criticism be damned.

No hate for Paul Casey in this Ryder Cup

KOHLER, Wis. — Paul Casey never said, “Stupid Americans, I hate them.” That was a headline in The Mirror, a London tabloid.

But Casey did say during the 2004 Ryder Cup matches that he learned to “properly hate Americans and U.S. fans can be bloody annoying.”

Which was an interesting observation because Casey, while English, played at Arizona State (winning three consecutive Pac-12 championships, breaking Tiger Woods’ scoring record); previously was married to an American woman; lives most of the time in the United States (Scottsdale); and after competing on both sides of the Atlantic now limits himself to the PGA Tour.

He’s also playing the Ryder Cup for a fifth time, still for Europe, and at age 44 is wise enough not to make statements that can be considered as controversial as that historic remark.

Casey insisted he was not so much misquoted as misinterpreted — or was it an intentional mis-read by journalists seeking something not there?

A few months after the quote or misquote appeared, Casey was sitting in front of a couple of California sportswriters at Riviera Country Club in L.A. (Tommy Bonk and yours truly), contritely explaining his innocence.

He got carried away when discussing how important the Ryder Cup was to the Euros. And certainly the 43rd edition of the matches, Friday through Sunday at Whistling Straits along the shore of Lake Michigan, will keep him involved as much emotionally as physically.

The interesting part is so many members of the European squad, Jon Rahm, Sergio Garcia, Ian Poulter and Casey, play most of their golf in America. So, despite all the nationalism, the Ryder Cup is not much different than another week on Tour.

You have the weird stuff, the Euros acting like Packers fans — Green Bay is about 65 miles north — posing in cheeseheads and a group of Americans tromping along wearing Viking outfits. Not the Minnesota NFL team, but Leif Erikson-type attire. You also have cheering for missed putts, which is opposed to all the stuff we’re taught about sportsmanship in golf

At times, the event seems like a midnight party in New Orleans. But for the most part, it’s the same game that millions play, hitting a ball with a club, and not a club like that wielded by Erik the Red.

“It’s a lot of fun,” said U.S. team member Bryson DeChambeau of the Cup.

No question, it’s different with two days of team play, at both four balls and foursomes, the latter a style rarely seen in the U.S.

”I think the British always spent lots of time playing foursomes as kids,” said Casey. “It's just something we did in matches. It was always foursomes in the morning and singles in the afternoon. It's just something you do in club matches, county matches, even up to the international level.

“I don't believe there's any sort of tricks and tips or anything. It's just something I think we are a bit more used to. There are certain golf clubs in the U.K. where foursomes is a thing. You have to play foursomes if you want to go play. I don't know what to tell you.”

What he did tell us was how appreciative he is to be here — meaning the matches as well as the United States.

“There was a time pre-Paris,” he said. referring to the 2018 matches, “I thought I might never play another Ryder Cup, having missed a couple — more than a couple.

“I was quite emotional in Paris because of that gap. The form I had been through, and to be part of that great team in Paris, was just one of the most special moments of my career.”

The bloody, annoying Americans welcome you back.

DeChambeau: Big hitter with a big chance in the Cup

KOHLER, Wis. — There’s a saying in baseball: any manager who can’t get along with a .340 hitter is in the wrong business.

Let’s modify that opinion: any golfer who can’t get along with a 380-yard driver is on the wrong Ryder Cup team.

Yes, Bryson DeChambeau, the not-so-incredible bulk, is occasionally a problem, perhaps a trifle egotistical and apparently feuding with Brooks Koepka.

But if he seems a disruption for the American team, the way he hits the ball DeChambeau should be a major disruption for the opposition, Europe.

Of the five matches in the Cup, four are team competition — either better ball, when scores of each player count, or alternate shot. Who wouldn’t want the chance to hit the approach after Bryson hits the tee ball out there around 400 yards?

We’re told one reason America has done so poorly in recent Ryder Cup play is that we’re a nation of individualists, each preferring to go his own way. Yet how important is it to love your teammate if you love the way he putts?

Besides, there’s no open hostility among the U.S. Cup players. They aren’t the Oakland Athletics of the 1970s — or the San Diego Padres of 2021.

When they swing at something, it is white with dimples, and Titleist or TaylorMade printed on its cover.

DeChambeau is as intriguing as he can be bewildering. He grew up in Clovis, Calif., near Fresno, also the home of quarterback Daryle Lamonica. And while Lamonica went to Notre Dame (understood for a football player) before the Raiders, DeChambeau went to Southern Methodist (surprising for a golfer) before the PGA Tour.

There was no question DeChambeau could play. In 2015, he became the fifth golfer to win the NCAA and U.S. Amateur in the same year. Five years later, after adding muscle and thus hitting to the outer limits, DeChambeau won the U.S. Open — which observers said with his style, emphasizing distance over accuracy, could never be accomplished.

So who’s to say anything is impossible for the 28-year-old DeChambeau? No matter with whom he might be paired in team play, even Koepka. Both of the men involved in the mini-antagonism insist they will be supportive teammates during the Ryder Cup.

“I'd say first off I feel like I'm a player that can adapt to anything if I have to,” said DeChambeau, “and I feel like there are certain players on our team that can mesh really, really well with my game, and you guys could probably figure that out.”

One guy who has to figure it out before play begins Friday is Steve Stricker, the U.S. team captain. In his more effective younger days, Stricker became a willing and able partner of Tiger Woods.

DeChambeau played in the Cup three years ago in France and lost all of his three matches. But, hey, Tiger never had much success when he played in the Ryder Cup.

“Leading into this event,” said DeChambeau, “I think part of hitting it far is some of why I am so successful and how I could utilize my length on this golf course to potential advantage.

“As well as I've been working on my wedging and putting nonstop. Thinking about how to roll it better, thinking about how to control my distances better with this new speed. It's definitely a delicate balance, but one that I am strictly advised pretty well on to do my absolute best in the Ryder Cup.”

Which certainly is all you could want of DeChambeau. Or anybody else.

”As we look at it, we have an amazing team that has an opportunity to do something special here this week,” said DeChambeau.

Big talk from a big hitter who has the opportunity to be a big man in the biggest of international matches in golf, the Ryder Cup.

Wherever Ryder Cup is, wrong place for U.S.

KOHLER, Wis. — Wait a minute on the dateline for the Ryder Cup. You did read Kohler, Wis., but technically it’s not a postmark. And Haven, the place you enter on the road to the tournament, is unincorporated.

So, the Associated Press, official judge of such geographical decisions, says we’re in Sheboygan.

Maybe it’s all a trick to keep the European team from finding its way here, although if history is any yardstick the Euros will arrive and thus whip the good ol’ U.S. of A. as it does often in this international golf competition.

Or, with so many new kids on the roster, players such as Harris English and Tony Finau, the region known as America’s Dairyland will be the site of America’s revival.

True, the U.S. won the Cup the last time it was held in the U.S., 2016 near Minneapolis, but it has lost six of the previous eight, even with team members named Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson.

There are as many theories for the U.S. failures as there are bunkers at Whistling Straits, the course along Lake Michigan where the Cup matches will be played — a course that exists because of a rich man’s wishes.

We’re told Americans can’t play team golf. (You mean they don’t pass the ball around?) Or the Ryder Cup isn’t as important in the U.S. as it is in England, Spain and France and the other nations that make up the Europe team. Or, it isn’t as important as the Super Bowl. Or — and this one has traction — the Euros just outplay the U.S. when it matters.

One thing is definite: Whistling Straits is like no other course.

Herb Kohler, the wealthy individual who knows how to turn on and off the faucets of his plumbing supply company, went to Scotland, played lines courses and decided he would like to have his own.

The fact that linksland was formed by a receding sea thousands of years ago proved no limitation fo Kohler. He owned land along Lake Michigan a bit north of Milwaukee (and south of Green Bay), hired architect Pete Day and had his minions dump 5,000 truckloads of dirt.

A luxury hotel was built as part of a complex that now includes three courses, and for big events — the PGA Championship has been at the Straits three times — tournament big shots stay there.

The media, however, is based 60 miles away in Green Bay, where there is a football team that is known to perform more efficiently than American Ryder Cup teams.

Some caustic types have suggested that the Packers’ quarterback, a fine golfer his ownself, be put in charge of the U.S. Ryder Cuppers, but Steve Stricker, a native of Wisconsin, is the man this time.

“Europe brings a strong team, and they play well and are tough, and we always have tough matches that seem to have gone their way more times than ours lately,” Stricker said candidly.

"But we look to try to change that this week and move on. We are worried about this one, and just trying to win this one.”

As they should be.

Most of the top Euros have been at Whistling Straits. As have most Americans, including Dustin Johnson.

If you recall, Dustin Johnson had a chance to get into a playoff for the 2010 PGA Championship at the Straits, but he walked through a bunker and was penalized.

Johnson thought it was a waste area — a term that some might apply to many recent U.S. Ryder Cup performances.

At the Fortinet, they should offer a toast to Phil

NAPA — Golf and tennis are constructed on reputation, on celebrity. If you don’t have home games, you better have big names.

May we offer a toast, then, to Phil Mickelson, if with something other than the $30,000 bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti he once was privileged to drink.

Phil wasn’t leading the Fortinet Championship after Saturday’s third round — although at 10 under par after a 5-under 67 he’s in a respectable position — but he was keeping himself involved.

No less importantly, keeping us involved.

Remember how in every tournament, people would ask, “Where’s Tiger?” As we know too well, Tiger is recovering from his auto accident and never may play again.

So the sport should be grateful to Phil, who months after taking the PGA Championship at age 50 and becoming the oldest man to win a major, keeps playing — especially in tournaments struggling for recognition.

Which if you saw the fans — or rather lack of them, with nobody along the gallery ropes — would be the Fortinet, previously the Safeway and before that the Fry’s.

The PGA Tour has a problem. It’s the Julian calendar. There are 365 days, and golf can be played on every one of them. That works for many of the pros, but not necessarily for the public.

The week after the 2021 schedule concluded with the Tour Championship, the 2021-22 schedule began. Not only did the calendar year remain unchanged, 2021, so did the month, September.

But there is a sport called football, which dominates television from September through January, leaving golf to survive with tournaments that sometimes go unnoticed, if not unwatched.

But Mickelson always gets noticed, deservedly. Sometimes it’s for the wrong reasons, his pretension, his demands. But usually it’s for his golf: the uninhibited way he plays the game, his achievements (six majors), his misses (six seconds and no wins in the U.S. Open).

“Lefty,” he’s nicknamed because he swings left-handed — even though he’s right-handed. He’s known for the difficult (last week as a gimmick, he hit a flop shot over Steph Curry) and for the miraculous (Friday after his 2-wood broke, he used a driver off the fairway to save par at Silverado’s 18th).

He was on the cover of Golf Digest hitting shots backward when still at Arizona State. He was on top of the world winning a major at 50, something neither Jack Nicklaus nor anyone else could accomplish.

Arrogant? To the extreme. A few years ago, at Torrey Pines at the tournament now known as the Farmers, he ordered his caddy to pull the pin when the ball was 150 yards from the cup.

Competent? He is out there beating people young enough to be his son.

On Saturday, he got rolling on the back nine, making five birdies in a row, 13 through 17. Vintage Phil, an appropriate phrase here in the Napa Valley wine country.

“I finished up well,” Mickelson confirmed. “Had a nice stretch with the putter. I had a chance the first eight holes to get the round going, and I let a few opportunities slide, but I came back with a good, solid round.

“I’m in a position where a good round (Sunday) will do some good, and it’s fun to have a later tee time and to feel some of the nerves and so forth.”

He’s at 206 after 54 holes, four shots behind. “I know I’m going to have to shoot probably 7, 8, 9 under par to have a chance,” Mickelson said, “but either way, it’s fun having that chance.”

Fun for Phil. Fun for all of pro golf.

McNealy shows us how good those guys are on Tour

NAPA — You’ve been there. Some middle-aged guy will toss in 30 points in a pickup game and then say he could play 12th man on an NBA team. Or one of your buddies will make three or four birdies and suggest seriously he could play on Tour.

To all of the above I respond: no chance. You don’t know how remarkable those guys are.

You want to find out? Go play Silverado, where the Fortinet Championship, the first event of the PGA Tour’s 2021-22 schedule, is underway.

Any other week, the course will be available. Just pay the greens fee. Then, in a matter of speaking, you’ll pay your dues.

Compare your score to that of Maverick McNealy in Friday’s second round. He shot an 8-under-par 64. And at one stretch made three straight bogies.

Of course, in another stretch of six holes he had four birdies and an eagle. Overall he played nine holes 10-under-par (8 birdies and the eagle 3 on the ninth hole).

Maverick McNealy is a fantastic golfer, a former world No. 1 amateur while at Stanford. And in four years, he’s never won on Tour, an indication of how accomplished those Tour golfers are, how difficult the Tour is.

That one-time Tour slogan, “These guys are good”? That’s an understatement.

These guys are great. They power the ball 300 yards, sink 25-foot putts or, like the 25-year-old McNealy did on Thursday and Friday, shoot 68-64—132 and still is a mere two shots ahead with two rounds to go.

So be careful what you wish for, wary of your self-belief. Think of batting against Max Scherzer or going one-on-one against Steph Curry. That’s what it’s like on Tour — not that you could even get on Tour.

And some people wonder why Maverick is on Tour. Not that he doesn’t deserve to be — it’s just that he doesn’t need to be.

He has a degree from Stanford. His father, Scott, was one of the creators of Sun Microsystems, which he then sold for a billion dollars or so. Yes, billion with a “b”.

The British tabloid, The Sun, did a mammoth feature: “Meet Maverick McNealy, super-rich golfer and heir to $1.4 billion fortune that you’ve probably never heard of.”

We’ve heard and read about Maverick for a good while now, heard the dad grew up in Detroit, car country, and so named his sons after various vehicles. Ford built the Maverick.

What Maverick the man (he’s now 25) has built is a reputation as a golfer with panache and potential. He may be wealthy, but he knows well how golf can humble anyone from board chairman to peasant.

“The goal every year, I think, is to make East Lake,” McNealy said about the Atlanta location where the end of the season Tour Championship is held. “I think that’s a fantastic benchmark for the elite players in this game. But I also want to win.”

He’s been close, a second at Pebble Beach, but no closer. He understands how hard and challenging golf can be, even when talented (and don’t you dare say rich).  

At the least, McNealy was brilliant Friday at Silverado. He started on the back nine, which meant the eagle 3 came on the closing hole, something to stay with him until the Saturday round.

“It was crazy,” he said of the day. “It was a tale of two nines. I played flawlessly the front nine, hit it where I wanted to, felt like I was always on the wide side putting for a birdie. Made the turn, and it’s funny how things go.

“I’m the guy that has to earn my own confidence. You just don’t wake up and feel confident. I get up early and get to work.”

Which is only part of the reason these guys are good.

A special vision of 9/11

It was one of those classic East Coast thunderstorms, full of sound, fury and buckets of rain.

Even before the pilot announced the delay, it was obvious we would be stuck for a long while on the tarmac at JFK airport in New York.

My plans would have to change. Who could guess within hours the world was about to change? 

It was Monday evening, Sept. 10, 2001. A day earlier, I had covered the men’s final of the U.S. Open tennis championships at Flushing Meadows, only a few miles from where our jet sat while the downpour continued.

Lleyton Hewitt, an Australian barely out of his teens, had crushed Pete Sampras. In the women’s final Saturday, then-dominant Venus Williams, 21, defeated younger sister Serena, still a few days from her 20th birthday.

A great Open, but now I was headed to another continent, Europe, for a few days of vacation in Italy followed by another sport, golf, the Ryder Cup at the Belfry in England. It all seemed so neat, so organized.

But the flight, to London’s Heathrow, was late. The flight to Florence, Italy, departed from another airport, Gatwick, to which I had to bus some 45 miles. It now was around noon in Britain. The next flight to Italy wouldn’t leave for hours.

The crowd in the waiting lounge moved toward one of the TV sets at the bar.

Jet-lagged and clueless, I asked someone what was happening. ”Oh,” he said unemotionally, “a plane hit a building in New York.”

What? I pushed through everyone to get a better look at a TV screen, a bit rude by British standards, dropping an occasional “Sorry,” just to show Americans had some manners.

The enormity of the disaster was becoming a reality. Flights throughout the U.S. had been halted. In Europe, some still were operating, My wife, a travel agent, had been in Rome and was aboard a train to Florence, unaware of the attacks.

This was 20 years ago, a lifetime technologically, before everyone from Katmandu to Kentucky had an iPhone. But there were cell phones, or as the Brits call them, mobile phones.

I had rented one for my wife in case of an emergency, never imagining the emergency would be an attack on the United States. I went to a pay phone in the terminal and connected to my wife as the train rolled.

The Ryder Cup, which used to be played in odd years, was postponed. Last autumn it was postponed again because of the Covid-19 outbreak, returning to the odd-year schedule, it will be held again in a couple weeks at Whistling Straits, north of Milwaukee.

A few times when I’ve been in New York for the Open, I’ve made a sobering visit to ground zero. There is a memorial fountain and the tattered, scorched remnant of an American flag pulled from the flames.

I made it to Italy the night of the attack on one of the last planes still permitted to fly, then on CNN watched as did millions of others all the news reports, depressed and frightened.

The next morning my wife and I shared a breakfast table in a plaza with an English couple, who expressed their condolences and asked whether America would respond.

Two decades later, there only are partial answers. I’m just grateful that on the afternoon of Sept. 10, 2001, I had the opportunity for one last look at the twin towers. The vision will stay forever.

Sports off the edge: tennis bathroom breaks, golf harassment

No, it’s not your imagination. The sports world has gone off the edge.

Tennis players are unable either to control their bladder or their manners.

Golf, which didn’t have spectators for a year, may ban some of the ones now allowed.

And a few baseball players are acting like the spoiled rich kids some observers have long accused them of being.

This didn’t happen in the days of wooden racquets and iron men (and women), but sometime in the last few years the most important part of a major tennis tournament became something called the bathroom break.

You know, you’re out there on the main court at Arthur Ashe Stadium, just you and your opponent and 23,000 impatient spectators, when suddenly you need to go.

The problem isn’t an issue of when nature calls. It’s when out of sight, you possibly do the calling, on a cell phone, to your coach in the stands for advice or when you simply stall away — no double entendre implied.

Please don’t (ha-ha) mention the location of the U.S. Open Billie Jean King tennis complex, Flushing Meadows, N.Y.

Maybe, the way accusations flew, it should be Sing-Sing.

After he was beaten Monday night by the young Greek star Stefanos Tsitsipas in a first-round match that lasted nearly five hours, Andy Murray complained about Tsitsipas’ several and lengthy breaks.

The rule is that players are permitted a “reasonable” amount of time, obviously a subjective view.

Commenting for ESPN, Chris Evert, winner of 18 Grand Slam tournaments, had a valid point about the maneuvers that perhaps helped Tsitsipas get some of his points.

“It’s so vague. Another vague rule in tennis. And I think that’s what Andy was complaining about,” said Evert on Tuesday,

"Let me tell you, eight to 10 minutes, that gives the player time to sit with himself, to figure out what he needs to do, to reset if he needs to, to reach into his bag and get a phone call. Or reach into his bag and read a text. It opens the door to a lot of things that maybe aren’t fair in tennis.”  

There are no secrets in golf. And almost no restrictions on spectators, who because of the game’s nature literally can stand next to a player to cheer him. Or harass him.

This supposed feud between Brooks Koepka and Bryson DeChambeau became so worrisome to Steve Stricker, captain of the U.S. Ryder Cup team for which both will play, that a detente was reached.

Among the players, if not the fans.

That was great competition between DeChambeau and Patrick Cantlay, who went six extra holes Sunday in the BMW Championship. DeChambeau had his chances, but Cantlay finally won with a birdie when DeChambeau missed his.

Then, as DeChambeau headed up a hill to the clubhouse, a fan shouted, "Great job, Brooksie!"

DeChambeau made a move toward the fan and angrily shouted, “You know what? Get the f--- out.”

A day later, the PGA Tour announced it might eject fans who taunt the players by acting disrespectfully. “Fans who breach our code of conduct are subject to expulsion from the tournament and loss of their credential or ticket,” said the Tour commissioner, Jay Monahan.

That sort of regulation has long been in effect in baseball, where fans traditionally are loud and nasty. It’s understood by the guys on the diamond they must suffer the slings and arrows of the people in the stands.

This realization finally came to Francisco Lindor and Javier Baez, two members of a New York Mets team that several weeks ago went into the tank and, in fine East Coast fashion, was booed loud and long.

The heartbroken young players responded by offering a thumbs down sign when the Mets finally won a game. Management put a stop to such nonsense.

The players apologized, and everyone lived happily ever after. Didn’t they?

Someday, there won’t be another Serena

Another great one is all but finished. If this isn’t the end of Serena Williams’ career, you can see it from here.

That brings us to the observation by Red Smith about the memories and possibilities that endear us to sport. “I told myself not to worry,” Smith wrote in his last column ever. “Someday, there would be another Joe DiMaggio.”

There would not, but there would be a Willie Mays and a Hank Aaron and a Roberto Clemente. Different from the great DiMaggio, but also the same, superb athletes who made their mark.

That we identify with the present, especially when our games and our stars are almost inescapable on television, is normal. But sport has a past and certainly a future.

There won’t be another Serena, whose serve and fire made her appealing and occasionally appalling, uninhibited and — in the biggest matches — unrelenting.

In many minds and hearts, she’s irreplaceable.

The uniform is our link in team sports. Laundry, if you will. Giants fans abhorred Reggie Smith when he was with the Dodgers. Their opinions changed when he joined the Giants. 

In tennis and golf, your guys and ladies are always yours — even when they step away, intentionally or not.

Depending on how you define the word, by years or by notable individuals, this has been a spectacular era for tennis. Pete Sampras, Andy Murray and the Big Three of Roger Federer, Rafa Nadal, and Novak Djokovic in the men’s game, Martina Navratilova, Chris Evert, Lindsay Davenport and then Venus and Serena Williams for the women.

Now almost without warning, except for the presence of Djokovic, the era has closed. Some are long gone. Others are falling victim to time and injury.

Serena withdrew from the coming U.S. Open because of a sore hamstring. After Nadal withdrew because of a bad foot. After Federer withdrew because of knee surgery.

Federer just turned 40, Serena will be 40 in September. There is another generation moving in, while the previous one moves on — sport emulating life itself.

We’ve heard it, and we’ve lived it: Youth will be served, although none of those young women possesses the explosive serve of Serena Williams.

She built her success, the 23 Grand Slams. She built her fan base. When she was on court, Serena was on a cloud. Her fans seemed to plead more than cheer. “Come on Serena,” they would whine.

Now she’s going, not coming. There’s no announcement of termination, and none should be expected. Tennis players always believe there will be another game, another set.

“After careful consideration and following the advice of my doctors and medical team, I have decided to withdraw from the U.S. Open to allow my body to heal completely from a torn hamstring,” Serena wrote on Instagram.

When you’re a few weeks from your 40th birthday, bodies rarely heal completely or even incompletely. As the years grow, so do the ailments. “Your body’s like a bar of soap — it just keeps wearing down,” said the ballplayer Dick Allen.

DiMaggio, his legs aching, retired from baseball after the 1951 season, aware he couldn’t perform to the high standards he had established and knowing a kid named Mickey Mantle would take over centerfield for the Yankees.

But who takes over Centre Court at Wimbledon in place of Serena? Or Center Court at Flushing Meadows? Other players will fill the openings, but they won’t fill the bill.

Red Smith knew full well there wouldn’t be another DiMaggio. We know there won’t be another Serena. You can say we were lucky to have the one we did.

Within months, golf and tennis lose their main men

The story was less a surprise than a disappointment. Roger Federer will undergo another knee operation.

The career of the most popular man in tennis may be finished. Only a few months after an accident surely put an end to the career of the most popular man in golf, Tiger Woods.

Two sports dependent on personalities losing their prime personalities, virtually at the same time. Ironic. Unfortunate.

They had slipped, but not from our memories. Or in the TV ratings. Federer won 20 Grand Slams, more than 100 tournaments. Tiger won 15 majors, 82 tournaments.

Woods is 45, Federer just 40. Once they were linked not only by greatness but by commerce, each wearing attire with the Nike logo until Federer switched two years ago to Uniqlo. Woods at times would attend Federer’s matches.

Now neither is able to play, and we are left with the question whether they’ll ever be able to play, other than in an exhibition.

We know that nothing, and no one, lasts forever. The history books and media guides are reminders. We grow up hearing and reading about legends, Babe Ruth, Bill Tilden, Johnny Unitas, maybe Rod Laver, who just turned 83 and is the last man to win the true Grand Slam, all four majors in a single calendar.

But there’s a special connection to those we’ve watched and cheered, if only silently, as they performed. Arnold Palmer may have made tournament golf the game it would become, but over most of the past 30 years Woods was the man.

Just as, starting in 2001 when he defeated Pete Sampras at Wimbledon, Federer was the man, as popular in Britain as any English player.

The late Bill Veeck, who owned the St. Louis Browns (he once ordered 3-foot-7 Eddie Gaedel sent up to bat) and understood how to get people in the park, said, “If you had to depend on baseball fans for support you’d be out of business by Mother’s Day.”

Veeck had a gimmick, a midget. Tennis and golf had figurative giants, players even somebody who didn’t know a bogey from a birdie or a double fault from the San Andreas Fault would recognize.

Roger Federer got you headlines and viewers — and ticket sales.

Sure, there are other top players, Novak Djokovic, the current world’s No. 1; Rafael Nadal, who along with Djokovic and Federer has 20 Slams. But they weren’t the same as Roger.

Federer didn’t mention the “R” word, retirement, but from what he told the New York Times in discussing what lays ahead, the future is hazy at best.

“I will be on crutches for many weeks and also out of the game for many months,” Federer said. “It’s going to be difficult of course in some ways, but at the same time I know it’s the right thing to do.

“Because I want to be running around later as well again, and I want to give myself a glimmer of hope also to return to the tour in some shape. I am realistic, don’t get me wrong. I know how difficult it is at this age right now to do another surgery and try it, but look, I want to be healthy.”

The health of tennis may be in question, not at the Slams but at tournaments such as the BNP Paribas at Indian Wells, where Federer usually was as entrant at an event he described as one of his favorites.

Change is a constant in sport, and there always are dozens of talented athletes capable of becoming a winner. Yet only a very few have the magic to make us care.

Tiger and Roger did, and now they’re not playing.

An old nemesis is ready to go after Tiger

So there’s Tiger Woods, in full rehab, learning to walk again with a foot reattached after that accident last March, and along comes his old nemesis, Rachel Uchitel, looking for a little publicity and a lot of money. Or should that be the other way around?

But you knew it would be like that. So did a gentleman named Shakespeare, who long ago told us in quintessential Shakespearian dialogue that sorrow comes not in single spies but in battalions.

For Mr. Woods, there’s not only the physical pain after the vehicle rollover, which experts said very well could have been fatal, but also the renewed mental anguish of being confronted by what he and his attorneys thought would remain hidden forever.

Which, as we have learned, whether the subject is literal royalty or a symbolic version, never is the case. Someone always talks or writes.

If you thought, we — and Tiger — were done with those tales from the early 2000s of Tiger and his lady friends, including Uchitel, so did most of us.


Uchitel signed an NDA, or nondisclosure agreement, something attorneys of the frequently rich and usually famous create to keep details of their clients’ peccadilloes away from prying eyes.

But a few days ago, there was a mammoth story in the New York Times, the publication offering all the news that’s fit to print — as opposed to the New York Post, which offers the juicy stuff — about Ms. Uchitel and Tiger.

The article, by Katherine Rosman, just short of 2.900 words and headlined “This is Rachel Uchitel Representing Herself,” doesn’t have much to do about saving pars but a lot about saving face — and earning a few bucks.

Somehow all that maneuvering and legalese, the decision by Tiger’s lawyers and agent, the doggedly loyal Mark Steinberg, wasn’t worth the paper it isn’t written on, to borrow that wisecrack about an oral agreement.

The timing of all this is interesting, maybe — you should excuse the word — accidental.

Uchitel, to use a golfing analogy, seems like someone in match play, 2 down with 2 to play. Might as well pull the driver out of the bag and go for broke. Which she claims she is, the millions paid to silence her eventually going to taxes or lawyers.

These celebrity cases have a life of their own. Politicians, actors, athletes remain vulnerable — not that the issues aren’t of their own creation — and remain fascinating.

That Woods has suffered the indignities, as well as suffering the crash, has been compared to a Greek tragedy. The hero has fallen.

Rachel Uchitel doesn’t want to pick him up — just pick herself up.

Wrote Katherine Rosman in the Times, “In 2009, days after the dramatic revelation of her affair with the golfer Tiger Woods, then married, Ms. Uchitel signed a nondisclosure agreement more than 30 pages long, prohibiting her from talking about Mr. Woods with anyone. She was represented by the famed Hollywood lawyer Gloria Allred.

“In return for her silence, under pressure to protect a powerful man’s reputation and brand, she got $5 million and a promise of $1 million annually for three years to follow. ‘His lawyers are saying, “We want all your text messages and here’s the price,”‘ she recalled, ‘and you’re like “screw you” and you move into deal-maker mode and all of a sudden, it’s the rest of your life.’

“Now, at 46, Ms. Uchitel — tired of not being able to defend herself against continued insinuations from tabloids and gossip websites — is ready to blow it all up.”

Woods and his legal team have had no response to Uchitel’s tactic. One guesses that their immediate concern is Tiger’s medical situation. What a mess. Greek tragedy indeed.

Giants-Dodgers: All we could have wanted

The games have been all we could want. Not the Olympics, although they’ve had their moments. The Dodgers-Giants games. Plenty of history, very little mystery, and baseball that on some nights seems to last forever — and even that’s not long enough. 

This may not be as good as it gets, yet it’s better than anyone would have imagined. At least Giants fans.

You look at the lineups, for L.A, World Series champion and still the favorite to be champion again, all those big hitters — especially the two Giants destroyers, Max Muncy and Justin Turner

The Giants? Yes, Buster Posey is batting like it’s 2010, not 2021, but where did Tahir Estrada come from? And LaMonte Wade Jr.?

So this isn’t quite the Miracle of Coogan’s Bluff, when in 1951 the New York Giants came from far behind the Brooklyn Dodgers and won on Bobby Thomson’s home run. In its own way, it’s part of history that goes back 131 years. Perhaps we label it the Surprise of Oracle Park. (The Miracle of Oracle has a nice ring, but that would be misleading.)

The only thing we know after L.A.’s rout on Wednesday is that by the time this three-game series closes on Thursday afternoon, the Giants still will be ahead of the Dodgers and everyone else. 

Things seem to be scripted in San Francisco’s favor, putting it mildly. Last week when the teams met in L.A., the Dodgers’ reliable closer, Kenley Jansen, suddenly became unreliable. Dodgers fans booed. The only thing Giants fans boo are the Dodgers.

After that series, the Dodgers played the Rockies. Trailing in the first game, L.A. tied it up and then, with nobody out, loaded the bases. No way the Dodgers could lose that one. But lose they did.

Then the Dodgers headed north. And you start to sense that the gods, if not the odds, were all for the Giants.

Every team has injuries, too many these days. Too many games? Bad luck? Who knows for sure? Hey, the Giants had been without three-quarters of their starting infield, Brandon Belt, Brandon Crawford and Evan Longoria.

Among the missing Dodgers was Cody Bellinger, just the 2019 National League MVP. He’s a first baseman, but Dodger manager Dave Roberts thought Bellinger would be safer in the outfield, away from a possible infield collision.

He was back at first on Tuesday night, and for whatever reason — a lack of familiarity at his old position, possibly — in the top of the eighth flung the ball into the left field box seats trying to get the runner at third base, who scored the winning run in the 2-1 game.

“Yeah, yeah, I think you have to be honest with yourselves,” manager Dave Roberts told the Los Angeles Times, when asked if the Giants are doing “the little things” better than the Dodgers.

“It’s two evenly matched clubs, and if you look at how we’ve played, whether it’s an at-bat here, or an execution on defense, a missed play, a walk, they’ve been better than us. So, on the margin, they’ve been better.”

That would please Giants manager Gabe Kapler and his staff, who from virtually the moment he took over two seasons ago have emphasized fundamentals.

Since they’ve been permitted to return to the ballpark after the easing of Covid-19 restrictions, what the fans have emphasized is a return to the fun they used to have.

As would be expected, the majority of the crowd of 32,878 on Tuesday night was Giants fans, although not by much. You saw Giants jerseys — not the bizarre City Connect uniforms, thank goodness — and Dodgers jerseys.

But at times, you also heard the chant “Beat L.A.”

At Oracle, co-existence doesn’t go as far as a wild Cody Bellinger throw.

Unbelievable: at All-Star break, Giants have best record in baseball

SAN FRANCISCO — Nobody in baseball would have believed this. Maybe nobody in sports. The San Francisco Giants have the best record in the majors at the All-Star break.

Which is now. Which is crazy wonderful.

Better than the Dodgers. Better than the Padres. Better than the Astros and Mets and Yankees.

Better than anybody in the bigs.

And they’ve done it in part without their All-Star catcher, Buster Posey, and without Evan Longoria and Brandon Belt. They’ve been on the injured list, and while every team has injuries, those three are the infield point men, at catcher, third base and first base.

What the Giants do have is the other Brandon, shortstop Brandon Crawford, who at 34, two seasons after he seemed finished, is batting .284 and on the All-Star team, and a roster full of guys who not only think baseball is fun but make it so by the way they play.

The Giants closed the first half of this enticing 2021 season by beating the once proud Washington Nationals, 3-1, on a Sunday afternoon at Oracle Park, where mid-summer had an autumn feel, a temperature of 60 degrees at first pitch and a cool wind until the last out.

A bit of the Fall Classic? Not so fast. The way the Giants unexpectedly crashed into prominence — not that they’d ever get the attention on ESPN given the Yankees, Dodgers or Padres — is the same way they could come crashing down.

Still, they swept three from the Nats.  

With an exception or three, the bulk of the Giants’ roster was hardly in demand when it came to rebuilding a team. No Trevor Bauers (exhale). No Giancarlo Stantons.

Just a lot of people who showed they could either play the game, like pitcher Kevin Gausman, the starter and winner Sunday (he’s now 9-3 and an All-Star for the game at Denver, his home), or had the potential to play it, such as Darin Ruf.

The big man on Sunday was Gausman. Pitching always counts. Hard to lose when the opponent gets only a single run. Just as in football. Keep the other team from scoring, and you’ve got a great chance.

The big man on offense was Kurt Casali, picked up earlier in the year and, after getting through injuries of his own, the one who picked up the Giants with a three-run home run in the second.

Who knows how long this magic lasts, but team president Farhan Zaidi keeps putting in the right pieces, and his willing compatriot, manager Gabe Kapler, keeps making the right moves.

Last year, Zaidi reminded, the defense was lacking. Not only were there errors of commission, grounders misplayed, fly balls dropped, but errors of omission — not covering a base, failing to throw to the correct infielder.

Those are unacceptable, particularly for a team built around pitching.

Kapler, as every manager, has remained skeptical as needed and enthusiastic as required. He is honest without being pretentious.

“That we’ve been able to do it without our All-Star catcher,” Kapler said of the Giants working their way to a record of 57-32, “is an example of people stepping up to help each other. Players came up from the minor leagues.”

From his days as an executive with the Dodgers, the monster he must now work to surpass, Zaidi has prized both versatility and patience. He likes players who can handle more than one position and who know when to swing the bat.

Kapler reportedly told Casali that the Giants from April until now played one of the better half-seasons he’d ever been associated with as a player or manager.

“I didn’t think much about it,” said Casali, around the game long enough to know how rapidly things can turn, “but it was cool.”

In the season of ’21, so are the Giants.