MORE THAN seven years on, it remains the most memorable tournament I have yet covered in almost a quarter of a century spent aimlessly scribbling about golf. It wasn't that the winner – Craig Parry – was particularly brilliant. It wasn't that the delightfully picturesque venue – Paraparaumu Beach on the southern shore of the North Island – provided the sternest of tests. No, it was just that the 2002 New Zealand Open had a bit of everything and then some, from slapstick comedy that veer
It also, of course, had Tiger Woods, the catalyst for all of the above in what turned out to be a financial disaster for the (dis)-organisers of what is normally a fairly low-key event. In the end, the NZ$5m (more than $1 for every Kiwi citizen but o
nly six cents for every sheep) paid to the world's best golfer turned out to be just about exactly the loss incurred. Which was no surprise. From day one it was at best unlikely that the public would show up in sufficient numbers; a seven-day season ticket was costing $450, $50 more than the annual subscription to the average New Zealand club. One of the many amusing aspects of the week was the huge and almost empty grandstand that stood short and left of the 18th green – in which the cost of a seat was originally set at a further $95.
That virtually no-one came to watch was only the end of it though. The fun and games started much earlier. Justifiably outraged by the price gouging that was going on, two-time NZ Open champion Greg Turner (below) was just one outspoken critic of the disparity between Woods' appearance fee and the shamefully dismissive treatment of both the spectators and the rest of the starting line-up. If the galleries were third-class citizens, the players – Tiger apart – weren't much more than second-class themselves.
"Never in my life have I been ashamed of being a Kiwi, but what I have seen this week has left me feeling just that," said the former Presidents Cup player.
Some examples of what went on:
1 – In the players' lounge, competitors were asked to pay for food and drink, forcing young amateurs in the field into the media centre in search of free Diet Cokes.
2 – On the Monday before the championship, Turner arranged a match for those fans unable to afford the exorbitant ticket prices. He and fellow countryman Craig Perks took on Australia's Peter O'Malley and Peter Fowler in a so-called "Tasman Test". Admission was free and the four played for nothing, a fact that failed to provoke a "thank you" from the tournament organisers.
3 – Two days later, Turner arrived at the course a few minutes before his pro-am time to discover that there was no transportation available to take him to the 14th hole – the farthest point on the course. Worried he would be late, Turner began to jog up the 18th fairway, where he was unceremoniously rugby-tackled by two security guards. I kid you not. Only when one of the organisers realised what was happening and who he was, did Turner gain his release from "custody".
4 – Arriving via courtesy cars for the opening round, upwards of a dozen players were not allowed on to the premises through the appropriate gate because the area was being "kept clear for Tiger" The players were eventually dropped off a few hundred yards down the road and forced to queue up and enter through the crowded public gates. Some barely had time for a few putts before teeing off.
5 – Later that afternoon more players were thrown off the practice range so that Tiger could give a clinic to local juniors. One of those "asked" to leave was Roger Chapman, the lone Englishman in the field.
"I find I unbelievable that one person can stop a country," said Chapman. "Tiger is just another player after all. Normally he gets five-star treatment, which is how it should be. But we normally get four-star. This week it is like we are travelling economy and he is in his own jet.
"It's wonderful he's here, but the other players have had to put up with so much. They (the organisers] have been taking the piss basically."
In contrast, Tiger's every move was greeted by an almost pathetic reverence, right from the moment his arrival from Hawaii was shown live on national television.
The adulation Woods received bordered on the comical. On the day he arrived, the great man played nine holes over the course where his despicable caddie, Steve Williams, grew up. His opening shot on New Zealand soil – a "fat" 4-iron duffed from the 10th tee – was followed by a huge roar. Even his raking of a bunker two holes later received loud applause. It was not a tough crowd.
He got an easy ride from the local media too. At the traditional "Woods on Wednesday" (WOW for short) press conference, questions ranged from how close a friend Williams is – "I want to win for Stevie" had normally hard-bitten New Zealanders positively swooning – to what hope a young Kiwi lass had of snaring the man who was then the world's "most eligible bachelor". When this oh-so-friendly session ended with a standing ovation from a not exactly voracious press core, it was clear that Tiger, despite the on-going controversies elsewhere, was not going to have a strenuous week.
In the end, Woods tied for a rather pedestrian sixth place behind Parry, his insipid play low-lighted by a marked inability to hole any sort of putt longer than a tap-in. And now he is headed back to Australasia for the first time since he took New Zealand by storm and the New Zealand Open for $5m. This time his destination is Melbourne for November's Australian Masters. This time the appearance fee is a reported AUS$3m, half of it apparently provided by the Victorian government. And this time, hopefully, those charged with running the event won't make any of the same mistakes perpetrated by their Antipodean cousins back in 2002.
Already, Woods' proposed participation has provoked some controversy Down Under. Five times Open champion Peter Thomson – a native of Melbourne – was quick to call the cost "damaging to the national Open" that follows three weeks later in Sydney. Victorian premier John Brumby insists that the presence of the world's most recognisable athlete will generate $19m in economic benefits to the state. And Woods' manager, Mark Steinberg of IMG (who, purely coincidentally you understand, happen to run the Aussie Masters) insists that his star client is playing only because he has heard that the host venue, Kingston Heath, is an "outstanding" course.
Only that last bit is definitely true, by the way. But, however it all turns out, the typically-Tiger hoop-la and hullabaloo is already under way. Roll on November.
