This shouldn't make me so mad, as it is what is expected these days, and I'm not in the mood to rant (but don't get me started on elderly drivers), but I'm not pleased with Pat Forde's opening to the story of Tiger's triumph at Royal Liverpool earlier today:

Up in the Great Clubhouse in the Sky, Earl Woods is loving this one.

Got himself a whiskey tumbler in one hand and a burning cigarette in the other. Got tears rolling down his cheeks. Got something to say to everyone around him at the 19th hole: "That's my boy. That's how I taught him to play thinking man's golf."