John Lindsay's blog

The dashing Patrick Swayze

After a long three-year hiatus, this blog returns under a new clever name. And believe us, we have a lot say, mostly about sports.

Exactly 20 years ago tomorrow, a dream died.
That’s what the cover of Sports Illustrated proclaimed the death of Maryland All-American basketball player Len Bias from a cocaine overdose. If you grew up in the Washington, D.C. area like I did in the mid-1980s, the date maintains a “Where were you when John Kennedy was shot’’-kind-of-feel to it.
It was weekday morning, as I recall. I had gone with my friend Bill to Detroit Tigers-Baltimore Orioles at game at old Memorial Stadium the night before, a forgettable affair made only slightly memorable by the late Alan Wiggins getting picked off with the old hidden-ball trick, then getting booed lustily as they put his face on the scoreboard in one of those jigsaw-puzzle-identify-who-it-is things.

Being both a writer and lover of golf, there has always been a good number of questions I found perplexing. Why do they call them woods when they’re now made out of everything but wood? Why does a 5-iron go farther than an 8-iron? Shouldn’t that be the other way? Why call it a fairway if it’s anything but fair and there’s no way my ball is going to wind up there? And exactly why did Tiger Woods try to dye what little hair he has left blonde a while back?

Some of my envious golf friends often ask me what’s the difference in going to the U.S. Open versus The Masters. That’s kind of like asking a bachelor to critique the difference between Scarlett Johannson and Jennifer Garner. Both are plenty fun to look at.
But as a spectator, there are a couple of huge differences between golf’s first two majors of the season. The first involves food. At The Masters, it’s okay to come to the course hungry. At the U.S. Open, not so much.

Greetings from the U.S. Open here in Mamaroneck, N.Y. _ a 45-minute, $50-cab ride from New York City. This well-heeled, swishy suburb in Westchester County is the land of the Stepford Wives whose husbands struck it rich in the boom 1990s stock market. The host Winged Foot Golf Club is no Bushwood of “Caddyshack’’ fame, either, that’s for sure.

However, many of the rich around here would likely trade a good chunk of their wealth for the golf games possessed by the 156 players vying to win golf’s toughest championship. And Winged Foot matches the area’s lush, expansive homes with its own classic beauty. But like the multi-million price tags for these homes, Winged Foot can be plenty mean. Think of a bikini-clad Jessica Simpson _ holding a machine gun.

After years of being e-mailed as among other things "a blockhead,'' "moron,'' or ''an utter loser,'' through e-mails, I now take to blogging as a new way to present opinions and accept abuse. And since this is June, let's talk NBA Finals.

The Miami Heat will defeat the Dallas Mavericks to win their first NBA Championship. While this victory will hardly lift the NBA out of its post-MJ lethargy, it will give South Florida something to celebrate.