There is a rumour floating around the soggy fairways of Colonial Country Club that the PGA Tour may soon be in discussions to put a "men only" designation on its events.
The key word in that sentence is "rumour." So Martha, -- yes, you, Martha Burk -- take a few deep breaths, calm your nerves and join us in the hope "these guys are good" is not just a PGA advertising slogan but a statement of integrity. On the other hand, stay tuned. File this one under the category "where there's smoke . . . ."
You just have to hope there are too many intelligent, secure, confident men among the PGA players to allow its policy board to take such a backward step. All because a very talented woman has the temerity to invade their domain for two practice days and, probably, two rounds of one tournament.
There's something admirable about the PGA's bylaws that sees no need for restrictions, although you have to figure it's more inadvertent than magnanimous. Still, if you're good enough, or at least legitimate enough to get a sponsor's exemption and can be verified as of this planet, you can tee it up, no questions asked, regardless of nationality, race or gender.
Annika Sorenstam is this week the subject of unparalleled media attention because she is entered at Colonial.
The men of the PGA Tour have nothing to fear from Sorenstam, although you would have a tough time realizing that from some of the extreme comments that have been made the last couple of months. When 36 holes of the 2003 Colonial are in the books, she'll probably have beaten a few people. But it's going to be very difficult for her, both physically and mentally. And if she does make the 36-hole cut and stay to play on the weekend, then it will be a triumph for everyone involved.
There has been so much angst on both sides of this issue as to cloud the real story.
Some of the PGA players are disturbed by her presence, but so are some of the LPGA backers, where Sorenstam established her credentials. They fear if their best player not only fails but fails miserably, the stakes will have been too high and their enterprise will have been damaged.
They might be right.
For Sorenstam, the events of today, tomorrow and -- she hopes -- the weekend are an intensely personal experience. Fair enough. It's her life. She has said that time and again.
But just this week, she admitted her perception may have been just a tad naive.
What she and her LPGA colleagues fear is the shattering of illusions that the gap between the golf played -- at the elite level -- by men and women isn't that wide. Believe me, it is. But, just as it is in many sports, like hockey, it is narrowing. Who knows what another generation will bring?
Truth is, Sorenstam's already a huge winner for trying and the Tour is a big winner for having allowed the tournament sponsors to invite her. It's quite possible nothing in golf's history has captured the attention of so many people around the globe as has Sorenstam's intriguing quest.
The irony is that after all the noise of the tournament has died away, the big winners are likely to be the men of the PGA Tour. Sorenstam's presence here has added untold millions of dollars to the PGA economy. It's an unexpected boon to the TV value of the PGA Tour.
More than that, Sorenstam is the perfect instrument for a change in attitude simply because her intent isn't to change anything.
She's just out here because she can be.
The men of the PGA Tour would be fools to take that opportunity away from her, or from the next generation of women players.
For the rest of us, it's a snapshot for the sociological time capsule. So, let's just put all the kids in the same playpen and -- you know -- see what happens.
