All my life I've wondered three things:
- What is the meaning of life?
- Is there a God?
- Why are golf sportscasters always whispering?
I worry that the first two may remain unresolved until the day I die, but #3 I feel like I should be able to figure out with enough dedicated research. I've just never understood why, firstly, anyone would care to watch golf. It's enjoyable enough to play, I admit, but I don't see how anyone could get a rush from a beautiful drive shot by someone else. And then the pain of watching someone else putt. Please. Please explain how this is remotely entertaining. And this is when the whispering on the course peaks, of course, during the short game. Everyone's afraid of disturbing the concentration of someone pacing back and forth, squatting, holding the putter this way and that, making a clear line of sight, squatting again, tilting the head a little to the right, squatting again, tilting the head to the left, setting up the shot, squatting one last time (do golfers have power quads?).
One of these days I will go to one of these events and unleash some horrifically loud sneeze. Or! Squeeze a whoopie cushion that precisely as the player makes his shot.
Well, I'd be laughing, anyway. Even as the golf police escorted me off the course.
And then today I found the lone instance in which golf is an acceptable spectator sport: when you're watching Bill Murray play. The shenanigans he pulled during this charity are top drawer, as the otherwise stuffy world of starched collars would probably phrase it. See exhibits below:
Exhibit: The Attire
Exhibit: The Attire, Part II
Exhibit: Sand Angel
Sand angel. Sand angel! SAND ANGEL!
More details and video clips of Bill doing the best thing for golf since...ever here.