I‘D like to see Sergio skip the Masters and give us all a break. Year after year of the Spaniard’s long face and all because he’s got some baggage at Augusta. Martin Kaymer and Graeme McDowell aren’t going to slip into the Green Jacket any time soon but we don’t hear them bleating on.
I’d like to see Paul Casey win the Masters (I wouldn’t, I’d rather pretty much anyone else win) but I would like to see how that affected his Ryder Cup hopes. And how quickly the rules would be fudged to get him to Hazeltine.
I’d like to see Tiger somehow make the Ryder Cup team. It’s too soon to have him on the sidelines with a walkie-talkie and watching Michael Jordan chomp on cigars.
I’d like to see Jack Nicklaus or Arnold Palmer outdrive Gary Player at Augusta so we don’t have to be put through the latter’s comedy body-building routine.
I’d like to see Phil Mickelson start Masters week with 10 drivers, three wedges and a putter (shaped like a driver).
I’d like to see Tiger just start Masters week.
I’d like to see my wife go out for the evening on Wednesday March 23 so I can watch the entire coverage of the first round of the WGC-Match Play. Before losing complete interest in the tournament by the Friday.
I’d like to see three of the 2016 Majors not jammed into a six-week stretch to accommodate a competition that has not been part of the game since 1904.
I’d like to begin to understand the FedEx Cup play-offs.
I’d like to see a variety of players struggle to come to terms with the anchoring ban and miss a host of three-footers on a regular basis. For no other reasons than, having had the chipping yips for 12 years, it would make me smile.
I’d like to see a club brought out that solves the chipping yips.
I’d like to see Justin Rose answer a question without starting ‘yeah’.
I’d like to see Victor Dubuisson take part in a TV advert for shampoo.
I’d like to see European Tour winners guaranteed a spot in the Open. Chris Wood winning a month before St Andrews and then missing out didn’t seem right, particularly given how the PGA Tour operates.
I’d like to look at a picture of Ryder Cup captain Darren Clarke without being marginally offended by the length that he has gone to manicure his hair. Before marvelling at how shiny his shoes are.
I’d like to see less baseball caps, less white trousers, less white belts, less small slit trouser hems and less logos on Tour.
I’d like to see pros do a bit more than waft out an arm when their ball is flying towards a gallery. They should make out a cheque for £1,000 if they crack someone on the bonce after giving no warning. A signed glove isn’t much recompense for half a dozen stitches in your noggin.
I’d like to see Ken Brown on my TV screen this year more than just very fleetingly –though I suspect I’ll be disappointed.
I’d like to see Andy Sullivan, Shane Lowry and Tommy Fleetwood make their Ryder Cup debuts. And, in a perfect world, Alex Noren and Robert Rock. And Jason Dufner back in the red, white and blue.
I’d like to see Butch Harmon spontaneously combust when Dustin Johnson wins a Major. Before going back to telling us what ‘a fabulous young man’ Rickie Fowler is. And Jimmy Walker. And Brandt Snedeker. And Phil Mickelson, still. ‘How can you not love Phil? Way to go Philly Mick’.