On athletes, assassination, antisemitism, Arleigh Burke, Dr. Ruth, Carlos Alcaraz, Michigan-talk, and more
When should an athlete say farewell? It is a hard, hard question, and very individual. Singers need to ask the same question: When should I hang it up? Pianists, conductors, and others — they can usually go on and on. But singers are like athletes: There comes a time when it’s — not there.
(I am speaking of classical singers, or opera singers. Mick Jagger — I imagine he sounds today, at 80, about like he sounded ages ago.)
Colin Montgomerie, the Scottish golf great, is a very candid fellow. Interesting fellow. He has immense respect for Tiger Woods (as what golfer wouldn’t?). I remember something he said in 2000 or so. I will paraphrase, but closely: “We are so lucky, in the golf world. The world’s greatest athlete is playing our game.”
In a recent interview, Montgomerie was asked about Tiger and his future. Tiger has had a tough time of it, playing a handful of tournaments, trying to make cuts. His rounds seem like burdens, like grim marches — no joy, no pleasure, no pizzazz.
“There is a time for all sportsmen to say goodbye, but it’s very difficult to tell Tiger it’s time to go,” said Montgomerie. Montgomerie does not want Tiger’s legacy tarnished, his aura dimmed (or snuffed out). He thinks particularly of younger golfers.
“These guys only know Tiger Woods missing the cut and he’s better than that, the best we’ve ever seen.”
If I may use modern language: Montgomerie’s comments came from “a place of love.” At least that’s the way I interpreted them.
Asked about these comments, and responding to them, Tiger himself was churlish. “Well, as a past champion, I’m exempt until I’m 60. Colin’s not. He’s not a past champion, so he’s not exempt. So he doesn’t get the opportunity to make that decision. I do.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
(I had better explain this “exemption” business. If you have won the British Open, you don’t have to qualify until you are 60. You are exempt from qualification. You can enter automatically. The Open is being played this week.)
To read about this sad affair, go here. Colin was not trying to jab at Tiger, as I saw it. He was saying: It’s painful to see Tiger do this, go through this, although the question of when to retire is individual, and we all have to answer it, sooner or later.
The article I have linked to says, “. . . with six sentences and a smirk on his face, Woods dunked on Colin Montgomerie.” I don’t think Montgomerie deserved dunking and smirking. Then again, I am not in Tiger’s shoes. And he is a competitor, to say the least.
In any event, maybe Tiger can use Montgomerie as a motivator. I think, naturally, of Jack Nicklaus in 1986. Before the Masters that year, Tom McCollister wrote a column saying, “Nicklaus is gone, done. He just doesn’t have the game anymore. It’s rusted from lack of use. He’s 46, and nobody that old wins the Masters.”
The general feeling was, the Golden Bear (as Nicklaus was known) had become the “Olden Bear.”
During Masters week, a housemate of Jack’s, John Montgomery, magneted McCollister’s column to the refrigerator. Jack had to look at it every time he got a drink or something.
He won the tournament, of course.
Later, Jack said, “To tell you the truth, I kind of agreed with Tom, I’m afraid, but it helped get me going.”
To see Tiger Woods win again, or even challenge again — that would be thrilling. That would be Christmas morning.
• I will turn now to a grave subject — very grave — but will not linger over it. On Sunday, I jotted a note, a simple tweet:
Yesterday was a sickening day in America. I remember the attempts on President Ford. And “March 30,” as Nancy Reagan used to say. I was born the day before 11/22/63. I’m glad that Donald Trump is well. I’m sorry about the dead and wounded. God bless America, and to hell with the democracy-robbers and life-robbers.
A single gunman can make a huge, cruel difference. He can decide for everyone else. Look what that idiot Princip did. And that Confederate actor, robbing us of the greatest man in our history ( a month after that man had been sworn in for his second term as president). You know all this . . .
• I was in Washington last week. Stopped in on Lincoln — I mean, I went to the Lincoln Memorial, as is my habit. Almost every time I go there, there is a variety of foreign languages around me. These are tourists, sure. They are hitting the “highlights”: the memorials, the Capitol, etc. Nevertheless, Lincoln means a lot to the world at large. He had no greater admirer than Tolstoy.
• Often, the more you come to know about someone, the less impressed you are. He loses his luster. You see more warts. With Lincoln, I find, the opposite is true: The more I know about him, the more impressed I am.
(He has the right admirers. And, boy, does he have the right enemies. Then and now. Especially now, I think.)
• Alex Ryvchin is, among other things, a leader of the Executive Council of Australian Jewry. I will leave the words, and the image, to him:
The Great Synagogue in Sydney is where Jewish families, mine included, have since 1878 gathered to celebrate marriages and bar mitzvahs, to mark our holy days and recite the mourner’s prayer. It is not an embassy. It is a synagogue. To target its congregants in this way is an… pic.twitter.com/dezoeRJuuO
— Alex Ryvchin (@AlexRyvchin) July 14, 2024
• For reasons I could get into, I read the Wikipedia entry for Arleigh Burke, our great admiral. (I did a podcast with Eliot A. Cohen, the international-affairs scholar, who holds a chair named for Burke. He and I discussed Burke a bit.) The admiral was from Colorado — not a seafaring place! — born in 1901. This is from Wikipedia: “Due to the 1918 influenza outbreak, schools were closed in Boulder and he never graduated from high school.”
Sounds so modern. Is there anything new under the sun?
• Dr. Ruth has died at 96. (For her obit in the New York Times, go here.) I saw her in Carnegie Hall a few times. So petite! Always had a cheerful look on her face. She was not unacquainted with grief. She survived the Holocaust; her parents were murdered. She joined the Haganah; she was badly injured by a shell. I’m glad I glimpsed this remarkable little lady.
• De mortuis nil nisi bonum dicendum est. I prefer to say critical things of people while they are alive, kicking, and working, not after they die. Briefly, then: Wayne S. Smith has passed away. He was an American whose views on Cuba were Castro-friendly (as many of us saw it). He was a frequent quotee in the press. A photo in his Times obit says a lot: In the photo, Smith is holding another photo — of Fidel Castro and him, embracing.
• Carlos Alcaraz, 21, has just won Wimbledon. He has four Grand Slam titles under his belt already. It is a beautiful name, “Alcaraz” — a reminder of the Moorish epoch in Spain. (Think of it as “al-Caraz.”)
• Stay on language for a second. Below is a clip of Gretchen Whitmer, the governor of Michigan. The content is not what I wish to discuss. It’s the speaking — redolent of Michigan. More than redolent, it screams, “Michigan!” Give particular attention to the words “actually,” “colleagues,” and “tie.”
Of course, we Michiganders have no accent at all (or so I thought until I got around a little).
Stephen Colbert on the debate: “What was your reaction? … Did [Biden] give you pause at all?”
Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer: “I like your tie.” pic.twitter.com/l8Mv4u1peV
— The Recount (@therecount) July 11, 2024
• For The New Yorker, Isaac Chotiner has interviewed Arthur Goldhammer about the recent elections in France. Goldhammer is an expert on French politics and society. Also, he is an important translator — a translator of books from French to English. What I want to say, here and now, is: Goldhammer earned his Ph.D. from MIT — in math.
He has worlds in his head, that guy.
• You ever been to Dulles Airport, outside Washington? I think of my uncle, who, years ago, was served a plate of Mexican food. The plate was sizzling, crackling, hissing. He quipped to the waitress, “Not hot enough.” In that spirit, I say of Dulles Airport: Not complicated enough.
• Governments do many bad things, I suppose ( I know). Among the worst is the sponsorship of lotteries. Gambling. They prey on the poor, especially. Frickin’ iniquitous.
On that harrumphing note of social conservatism — I bid you good day.
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