Unlike my father, I am no great lover of golf. True, I did once play on my high school’s golf team, but that was a bit of a joke, and my main memories of that era involve eating a lot of candy and doing things on a golf course that would shame my father. Anyway, perhaps as a tribute to dear ol’ dad, I watched the end of the U.S. Open today. Now I’m the type of person who can very quickly get emotionally involved in a sporting event. I may not know much about Tiger Woods besides that he’s in a lot of commercials and is really, really good at golf, but when they showed dramatic clips from Saturday of him clutching his knee and making those impossible shots, with voiceovers of him talking about his father, I got a little teary. After that clip, however, my heart belonged to Rocco Mediate. With a name like that and a peace sign for a belt buckle, there was no way I could not be in love. And he was so jolly!
As I watched until the nerve-wracking end, I had visions of Rocco celebrating his win, weeping as he hugged and kissed his beautiful wife and children (which of course he has). And on Father’s Day! It would have been beautiful. Instead, Mr. Big Shot just haaaad to make his putt, forcing poor 45-year-old Rocco to play another 18 holes the next day. Although I didn’t know Rocco’s name until earlier today, I found myself borderline depressed when Tiger made that shot and did his irritating fist pump. For the sake of the underdog, peace, and really cool names, I hope Rocco can clinch it. Everyone loves a Cinderella story, especially yours truly.