When I was little, I had a board game called Clue: The Great Museum Caper. It was less fun than regular Clue but more fun than Mouse Trap. Anyway, the object of the game was to steal things from a museum without getting caught by your opponent. I put that game in my closet a long time ago and forgot about it–but now it seems that someone in Far Hills, New Jersey wants to start the game up again.

On Tuesday night, some dirty thieves broke into the USGA Golf Museum and stole two precious relics: the original U.S. Amateur trophy and an old-timey award called the Hickok Belt. My question is not so much “why break into a golf museum?” as it is, “why those things?” Here are some of the priceless treasures the perpetrators could have taken instead:

-The burglars could have stolen Tom Kite’s false teeth. These dentures were in Tom’s mouth for his 1992 U.S. Open victory. He also called them his “Million Dollar Molars” since he was the first golfer to earn more than $1 million in a season.

-The vandals could have grabbed Francis Ouimet’s cleek; it’s at the museum with other archaic golf clubs including his niblick. That club’s so rusty and beat up, it makes Harry Vardon’s brassie look like Walter Hagen’s half-mashie!

-The villains could have made off with Arnold Palmer’s cigarette butts. In his hard-charging, swashbuckling prime, no one could suck down a cigarette quite like Arnie. In fact, pros say that you never forget the first time you inhale Palmer’s second-hand smoke or shake his nicotine-stained hand.

-The miscreants could have nabbed Tiger Woods’ 4-iron. This club was in Tiger’s bag for his 2000 U.S. Open rout at Pebble Beach. Remarkably, the club has never been thrown, spit upon, or kicked across a tee box.

-The rat bastards could have taken a copy of the 2008 Rules of Golf. That edition, of course–not like I have to tell you–included the landmark modification to Rule 18-1 concerning when a ball at rest is moved by an outside agency. (Obviously, this required some changes to Rules 15-2 and 20-7c, too!) The rule book is autographed by then-USGA director David Fay and also included a David Fay poster for your bedroom wall.

-The sonsabitches could have pocketed a vial of Greg Norman’s tears. Collected during Norman’s various 2nd place finishes in majors (he had nine of them), the tears are being studied by scientists to see if acting like a total prick all the time is caused by DNA.

Matt Kuchar walks through life with a shit-eating grin. So it was only fitting that he smiled his way to victory Sunday at The Players Championship. But what was all the teeth-baring about? I tracked down the five big reasons Matt Kuchar was smiling this weekend.

1. He was thinking about Justin Leonard’s T70 finish.
Matt Kuchar and Justin Leonard aren’t close. They had some tough rounds together back in 1998, when they were paired together at both the Masters and the U.S. Open. (Leonard was the ’97 British Open champion; Kuchar won the ’97 U.S. Amateur.) As John Feinstein recounts in his awesome book The Majors, Leonard didn’t like how Kuchar’s dad Peter (also his caddie at the time) constantly riled up the crowd after Matt hit a good shot, throwing Leonard off his rhythm. On the 18th at Olympic Club, Leonard even stared down Peter Kuchar before he hit his final putt. So yeah, Matt Kuchar might have enjoyed how Leonard had to get up at 6 am to shoot a 79 on Sunday.

2. He was laughing at what a hypocrite Tim Finchem is.
PGA Tour Commissioner Tim Finchem already isn’t the most likeable guy. And he didn’t do himself any favors last week. When asked why the Tour still recognizes the Masters as an official event when Augusta National clearly violates the Tour’s anti-discrimination policy, Finchem talked around it and said the Masters was “too important.” That is a great excuse that I will start using with my friends, my wife and maybe even the police. “Sorry officer, I know you have a law about drinking in public, but this Alpha King is just so delectable.”

3. He loves America’s Got Talent…
And he knew the season premiere was coming up. Matt Kuchar enjoys a good talent show, although the title does bother him. “You know, that should be America Has Talent,” he always tells his wife. “Perhaps America Possesses Talent. I’ll write a letter.”

4. He couldn’t believe the shit Kevin Na was doing.
Okay, let’s talk about Kevin Na. Is the paragraph starting now? Yes. It’s starting. Ready…ready…ready to write now. Kevin Na is a guy who… no, wait. Oh, I always do this. Okay, here we go. Writing. Writing now. We’re about to start. Here it comes. Kevin is… I’m sorry, I don’t feel comfortable. Let’s start over.

5. He was looking forward to the next Bridgestone barbecue.
Put him in a PGA Tour locker room and Matt Kuchar is well-respected–before Sunday, he’d already won 3 events. But at the Bridgestone company picnics? He’s an also-ran. Davis Love III babbles on and on about his PGA Championship victory. Lee Trevino tells dirty jokes and acts like the alpha male. Nick Price constantly asks “What’s your world ranking, Matty? Oh, never been #1, huh?” And Fred Couples always just happens to wear his green jacket. (He even had a pair of matching short-shorts made for warm weather occasions). So now, with a Players Championship victory under his belt, Kuchar will feel a little more comfortable around the Bridgestone boys. “Hey Kuch,” Trevino will say. “You ever heard the one about the priest, the hooker and Justin Leonard?” And Kuchar will smile. Because that’s what he does.

Even uptight rich folks love a good explosion. That’s what I learned this weekend from watching the RBC Heritage, where they open tournament week with the absolute coolest, most gunpowder-heavy spectacle imaginable: simultaneous golf shots and cannon fire. Not kidding. Check out the video below, in which defending champion Brandt Snedeker crushes a #1 wood while losing the hearing in his right ear.

Unfortunately for sponsor RBC and the tournament hosts in the plaid Al Czervik coats, the bombs bursting in air were the most interesting thing that happened all week. Some other notes from the Heritage in beautiful Hilton Head Island, SC:

-If you’ve never been to Hilton Head Island, here’s how I’d describe it: imagine 50 gated communities all on one island, but no one lets anyone else drive through their gate unless they pay $20. Then make all the people over 50 years old and turn the humidity up to 100%. It’s pretty sleepy and straightlaced, which is why I guess the tournament described a planned Boeing 787 flyover as “the thrill of a lifetime” for the tournament’s spectators. That’s right… the thrill of a lifetime is watching someone else fly by in an airplane. They have TV and the Internet in South Carolina, right?

-Weekend ratings must have been absolutely abysmal as Colt Knost (a horse?) battled Carl Pettersson (who?), Billy Mayfair (when?) and Zach Johnson (why?) for the top spot. As a golf addict, I look forward to the PGA Tour broadcasts all week and even I nearly fell asleep during Saturday’s round. (Although, to be fair, I like to watch golf while nestled in a pile of pillows, wearing my footie pajamas.)

-Speaking of sleeping, when Camilo Villegas has bad dreams and meets the devil (“El Diablo”), he probably looks a lot like Carl Pettersson. Pettersson is like IKEA: big, Swedish and packed full of defective parts. Petterson told Golf.com that he tried to slim down a few years back but that it completely ruined his game. So how did he gain back the weight? “Well, you drink 10 beers and eat a tub of ice cream before bed,” Pettersson said. “That puts it on quickly.” This is officially my favorite golf quote of all time. But Petterson had more to add about his physique: “Ultimately, just cause you don’t look like an athlete doesn’t mean you’re not an athlete.” Actually, yeah, that’s a pretty good way to tell–although I should talk, since my forearms could probably model ladies’ wristwatches in a JCPenney catalog.

-Former Masters “champion” Mike Weir missed his sixth straight cut of the season, finishing just one spot better than DFL. Weir has now missed the cut or withdrawn from 19 of his last 21 pro tournaments. How does he still have a tour card? I don’t know, but whenever Weir next completes a four-round PGA Tour event, I will write an article celebrating the 10 Best Things About Mike Weir. That’s both a threat and a promise.

-Wait, let’s talk about Carl Pettersson again. The golf media is so used to seeing lean, lithe guys win tour events that this questionable article actually got published in Golf Digest. In it, Pettersson is described as (I’m not making these up): “doughboy,” “weighty,” “a side of beef,” “a heavyweight champion,” “a prime cut of beef,” and my personal favorite, “an immovable obstruction.” Wow. I mean, I like to make fun of golfers–I set up this whole blog just to do it–but even I only called Pettersson “big.” Golf Digest better watch out next year, when Carl Pettersson is in control of that cannon.

One time at the 1998 Motorola Western Open, I saw Billy Mayfair totally eff up a shot. His approach shot was so fat that, in the wet conditions, he took a divot the size of a high school textbook. His reaction? Complete and total apathy. I was reminded of Mayfair’s attitude this week when Jason Dufner briefly led the Masters while looking like he was on a forced trip to Linens & Things. Here, in his honor, are the Jason Dufner All-Stars: the most bored-looking golfers in the world.

1. Jason Dufner

Jason Dufner nearly won the 2011 PGA Championship in an epic playoff with Keegan Bradley. Or maybe he was just walking the course as a scorekeeper–you couldn’t tell either way from his expression. Just watch the above interview to see what I’m talking about; Dufner’s heart may or may not have been beating at the time. Don’t get me wrong–Dufner seems like an incredibly nice guy. But in the age of loud pants, viral videos and gratuitous orange-smashing, Dufner stands out as especially vanilla.

2. Sergio Garcia

One of the most memorable moments from the 2012 Masters was the Saturday hug between Rory McIlroy and Sergio Garcia. Memorable because it was clear they had both given up on winning and also because it was the first time Sergio had had fun on a golf course since that ridiculous tree-root shot in 1999. He promptly returned to his old form after the round, telling the media that “I’m not good enough…I need to play for second or third place.” It’s not the first time Garcia has been SO over it. In 2010–when he was only 30 years old–he temporarily quit the game and accepted a spot as a Ryder Cup vice-captain despite being younger than eight of the players on the team. It was kind of like when you’re in high school and your gym teacher is barely older than you–something’s just not right. At this rate of boredom, Garcia will soon start hitting the ceremonial tee shot at the Spanish Masters and doing commercials for Srixon’s yellow golf balls.

3. Ryan Moore

Most famous for being all anti-sponsor and self-righteous until he suddenly wasn’t, Ryan Moore has never played in a tournament he hasn’t found something wrong with. He skewered the setup at the 2010 U.S. Open at Pebble Beach, saying he’d probably only play in future national championships “just to torture myself.” After a rant about unfair conditions that lasted nearly eight minutes, Moore concluded, “I’m sure all of this is going to get printed and [the USGA is] going to hate me, but I’m OK with that. I’ve won three of their championships.” In short, Ryan Moore finds golf distasteful. So what’s good enough for the man from rainy Tacoma, Washington? I don’t know, but if he wants to give me his next U.S. Open exemption I’ll gladly take his place. I can grow stubble too.

4. Sean O’Hair

O’Hair’s last memorable moment on tour was not winning the 2009 Arnold Palmer Invitational when Tiger Woods poured in a birdie putt on the 72nd hole. O’Hair is so bored (and boring) that his only tour victory in the last 3 years came at the RBC Canadian Open–a tournament held in Canada and attended by Canadians. Enough said. In addition to always seeming like his eyes might glaze over, O’Hair likes to act demure when he’s in danger of doing something interesting. Like in this TaylorMade ad, when despite having fathered four children, O’Hair decides he’s too prude to say “ballz.” (My second favorite part of the commercial: Dustin Johnson asking “What does it DO?” It hits golf balls, Dustin. The rubber part goes in your hand and the big part smacks the pretty white ball.)

Apparently Jose Maria Olazabal lives his life a quarter mile at a time. That’s the news out of rural Georgia, where the two-time Masters champ was ticketed for going 97(!) in a 65-mph zone the day after the tournament. According to the police, Olazabal “apologized,” which is notable because–oh wait, that’s what every person in the world does when they get pulled over. That didn’t stop him from getting hit with a $621 fine, which coincidentally was $621 more than he won at the Masters. They also took his mug shot. It’s my favorite perp photo since the time Jeff Overton got shitfaced and had to be forcibly removed from his limousine.

Olazabal’s ticket actually surprises me. I know he’s a rich millionaire who drives a Mercedes, but this year’s European Ryder Cup captain also seems like a mild-mannered, really boring dude. Also, if I was going to pick a risky activity for him, it’d be boxing, since he looks exactly like former WVBA welterweight Don Flamenco.

At least the ticket will give Jose Maria something to talk about with U.S. Ryder Cup captain Davis Love III. Love is also something of a speed demon, collecting “chopper” motorcycles including one from Orange County Choppers. (Give your kids a fun challenge by looking at this photo and asking them “which one of these people is not like the other??” Hint: it’s the guy in dress shoes with a polo tucked into his jeans.)

Okay, okay. I’ll acknowledge it. Tiger Woods captured the crown at the Arnold Palmer Invitational on Sunday, picking up his first official PGA Tour victory in over two and a half years. With Tiger in red and the field crumbling around him, it seemed just like old times. But alas, we shouldn’t forget–it’s been a really long time since the last time this dude won an event. “How long was it?,” the audience asks in unison. It’s been so long that:

-The last time Tiger won, my sister-in-law and brother-in-law had no kids. Now they have two human boys, one of whom you can have a conversation with and who constantly asks for Sweet Tarts.

-The last time Tiger won, the #1 single was the Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling.” Now every time you hear this song at a wedding, you’ll think of Tiger Woods, which is ironic because Tiger Woods and marriage don’t mix at all.

-The last time Tiger won, Barack Obama was only 6 months into his presidency and had almost no gray hair. Back then, he loved pounding beers even though he was getting yelled at a lot. Now he has a ton of gray hair and is waiting for a new challenger to start yelling at him during his reelection campaign.

-The last time Tiger won, people were seeing The Hangover in theaters and talking about how good it was, even though the last 40 minutes were unwatchable because of that Asian mob boss character. Or more specifically, because of the actor who plays him.

-The last time Tiger won, Rory McIlroy was just a 12-year-old schoolboy who had never even touched a golf club. Now he’s blossomed into a full-grown man with facial hair and an Oakley contract.

For his sake, let’s hope Tiger doesn’t wait another two and half years to win… because by then, kids will be terrorizing everyone with their hoverboards and Gray’s Sports Almanac will have taken all the fun out of guessing who’s going to win tournaments.

I sat down on Sunday to watch what I thought was the Transmissions Championship (sponsored by car engines or something), but apparently it’s called the Transitions Championship. Don’t let the name fool you–this has nothing to do with a rehab treatment center. It’s actually brought to you by the fine people at Transitions photochromic eyeglass lenses, which have to be the weirdest product to ever sponsor a golf tournament. But in a strangely poetic way, each of the four golfers who made the tournament’s dramatic playoff were “transitioning” in their own way–the same way a caterpillar becomes a majestic butterfly, a tadpole grows into a hopping frog, and a glass of fresh milk eventually becomes a putrid rotten mess.

Player: Luke Donald
Transitioning out of: a spot as merely the second-best golfer in the world

Luke Donald and I have a lot in common: a Big Ten education, an appreciation for the arts, and a talent for putting. Between us, we also have 12 professional wins worldwide. And like me, Donald has a home in the Chicago area, so I can support him and refer to him as “we” without it being weird at all. Like “we won the Accenture Match Play last year,” or “we need to work on our driving accuracy.” Lately, we also need to get some more attention. Donald is apparently transitioning out of a period in which he felt he didn’t get the proper amount of publicity–and we don’t stand for that. He told PGATour.com that he felt he’d been written off after Rory McIlroy took the #1 ranking, which really makes your heart go out to him. I mean us. It’s not like we were named PGA Tour Player of the Year 3 months ago or just won the U.S. money title and the European money title at the same time. It’s a rebuilding year for us.

Player: Sang-Moon Bae
Transitioning from: anonymity to fame

Sang-Moon Bae is not a household name. There are no kids with his posters on their bedroom wall and certainly no screaming teenage girls stalking him like they do Rickie Fowler. He’s so little known, in fact, that even PGA Tour officials aren’t sure how to refer to him. An actual moment from the playoff on Sunday: a Tour official live on camera explained to the four competitors, “Robert, you’ll go first. Then Jim, you’ll play. Sang-Moon Bae, you’ll go next, and Luke will finish.” Clearly he had no idea whether the Korean’s first name was Sang, Moon, Bae, Sang-Moon, or any other option. In the tour official’s defense, I’m still unsure whether Jumbo Ozaki is the same player as Joe Ozaki or what the difference is between D.A. Points and D.A. Weibring. (Little-known fact: Points prefers that you pronounce his first name as “Da,” as in “Da Bears, Da Bulls.”)

Player: Jim Furyk
Transitioning out of: some sort of money-induced depression

During Furyk’s final round on Sunday, announcers noted that 2011 was the self-proclaimed “worst year of his career,” a year in which Furyk had four top-10 finishes and his family barely survived on earnings of $1.5 million (not including endorsements). Apparently, he was often unkind to his caddie, Fluff Cowan, and had a bad attitude overall–often answering the perfunctory “How’s your day?” with “It’s a shit sandwich.” I guess anything is a letdown after a 2010 season in which he won the FedEx Cup while wearing a backwards hat (totally gangsta) and took home $14.8 million. Dear Jim, I hear a cure for depression is to look at your bank statement and see that you recently won $14.8 million.

Player: Robert Garrigus
Transitioning from: using a tiny putter

The obvious joke here was “He’s transitioning from being high as a kite every day!” or “He’s transitioning off of the wacky tobaccky,” but that’s like a joke that old people would make. Yeah, Garrigus is probably best known for saying he and his Nationwide Tour brethren were high all the time during competition, but more recently Garrigus’s big life change was switching to a belly putter from a tiny 28-inch model. Garrigus had nicknamed his small putter “Mini-Me,” while he calls his current putter “Dr. Evil.” Asked whether he’d soon be transitioning to using some more recent pop culture references, Garrigus replied, “I’m just living in the Matrix, and until I feel like, you know, ‘Houston, we have a problem,’ this putter is showing me the money. Party on, Garth.”

Everyone knows about the latest world number one golfers–from the newly minted king, Rory McIlroy, to scrappy little Englishman Luke Donald. But what about #1 golfers from the past? Here’s the lowdown on some of golf’s former top dogs.

David Duval (#1 in 1999)
On the right guy, sunglasses look really good. They show you’re a badass–that you’re from California–or that you’re a cool teen/wolf hybrid. But on the wrong guy, sunglasses look kind of sad. For a few magical years between 1997 and 2001, David Duval was the first kind of guy. Through his wraparound Oakleys, he saw himself win the Players Championship and the Tour Championship, shoot a final-round 59 to win the Bob Hope, and take the Claret Jug at the 2001 British Open. Not to mention a total of 13 tour victories in a four-year stretch. But then something happened–I don’t know if his sunglass prescription ran out or what, but he became the second kind of guy. Couldn’t make a putt. Couldn’t hit a fairway. And suddenly, the whole sunglasses-all-the-time thing wasn’t so cool anymore. Duval hasn’t won another event since that British Open, but he’ll always be remembered for being one of the only consistent rivals to Tiger Woods and for starring in a series of bizarre made-for-TV exhibitions like the “Showdown at Sherwood” and “Battle at Bighorn,” where they would play under floodlights in the middle of the night and hit awful putts like this one.

Ian Woosnam (#1 from 1991-1992)
Ian Woosnam’s dominance was a little before my time, so most of my knowledge of him comes from Woosie’s Wikipedia article. This is an article which was surely edited by Woosnam himself, as it notes not once but twice that the Welshman is “five-foot-four and a half.” That half makes all the difference. Woosnam grew up in Oswestry, Wales, where he honed his skills at Llanymynech Golf Club and soon became known as the greatest golfer around, from the hills of Wern Ddu to the verdant green of Llanrhaeder-ym-Mochant. (These are not typos, they’re Welsh. Either that or the language used by wood sprites, trolls, or the rabbits in Watership Down.) Woosnam is best known for winning the 1987 Masters, but seems to have been overshadowed even at the time by the tournament’s low amateur, Phil Mickelson. This incredibly uncomfortable video gives you a hint of what Woosnam was dealing with–Jim Nantz slobbering all over a boyish Mickelson, and Nick Faldo doing something at the 4:36 mark that Woosnam absolutely should’ve punched him for. Woosnam’s dominance was short-lived, but his achievements should give hope to Chez Reavies everywhere…actually to all of us that don’t hit 340-yard drives.

Tom Lehman (#1 in 1997)
Tom Lehman was technically #1 once, but not for long. His dominance lasted a single week, which must have really felt like shit. “I’m the best golfer in the world!” he told his wife one Sunday night. “Not anymore–now take out the garbage,” she replied the following Sunday. As someone who was obsessed with golf in 1997, I feel like I should remember Tom Lehman being really good, but I don’t. I recall Mark O’Meara just crushing the field during that time–he won two majors in 1998–but not Lehman. This makes sense, as I’ve often thought that Lehman and O’Meara might in fact be the same person. Isn’t it a little too suspicious that two guys look pretty much the same, have the same build, and play golf? Have you ever seen them together? Watched them on TV at the same time? I have not. I think we are looking at some kind of Face/Off or Prestige scenario here.

Greg Norman (#1 for periods between 1986-1997)
Norman has spent more time at the top than anyone except Tiger Woods, and while he holds two major championship titles, he’s probably most famous for his business ventures. You can dress head-to-toe in Shark-branded clothing while you eat Greg Norman Signature Wagyu beef and sip on Greg Norman Estates Wine. After trying all the varieties, stumble out onto a course built by Greg Norman Golf Course Design. Strip down to your Greg Norman Underpants and go harass customers at Greg Norman’s Australian Grille or the Greg Norman Residences. When the police arrive and throw you face-first onto the Greg Norman Turfgrass, call up Greg Norman Bail Bonds and ask for Greg. They’ll hook you up with or a lawyer or at least a copy of The Way of the Shark by Greg Norman, which you can read in your jail cell as you cry yourself to sleep under Greg Norman Bedsheets.

Philosopher Cornell Haynes once mused aloud, “What does it take to be number one?” I’m almost certain that’s what went through Rory McIlroy’s mind on Sunday as he closed in on the world #1 ranking. “Two is not a winner, and three nobody bloody remembers,” he whispered to himself as he started the back nine. To summarize the dramatics at the Honda Classic, let’s turn to more of Mr. Haynes’ writings–since nothing sums up the modern-day achievements of a Northern Irishman better than a 10-year-old song by a St. Louis idiot.

“No matter if you like it, here take this down and write it.”
Despite fans going apeshit for Tiger Woods all day at PGA National Golf Club, the world has a new top golfer: Rory McIlroy. In the words of my Uncle Mark, what I don’t understand is how he got there without ever throwing clubs into the crowd, spitting on the course or shouting obscenities after bad shots. I guess he has a lot to learn from Eldrick.

“Don’t be lyin, bitchin and cryin, suck it up as a loss.”
Despite a scorching final-round 62, Tiger came up just short as the tournament’s first loser. That didn’t stop the media from fawning over him and trying to give him more than his share of the attention–in fact, a current headline on ESPN.com is “Honda Classic: Bigger deal for Tiger or Rory?” Well, since one of those guys won the tournament and officially became the best golfer in the world and the other guy didn’t win and became 16th in the world–hmm, you’re right, it’s a tossup. Another actual ESPN headline is “Don’t Crown McIlroy King Just Yet.” Why not? Because Tiger finished in the top 5? Because Dicky Pride finished T7 and now he’s gunning for the top spot? I don’t know what another golfer will have to do to break the media’s Tiger obsession. I’ll be honest–it was fun to watch Tiger eagle 18. And I sort of wanted Rory to double-bogey his 18th just so he could beat Tiger in a playoff and crush his spirit even more. But watching Tiger play his best and still get beat handily was pretty great too.

“The only way you’d wear me out is stitch my name on your pants.”
If there was a male version of the word “buxom,” it’d describe Lee Westwood, who shot 63 but still lost to archnemesis McIlroy. Despite having 16 years and probably 100 pounds on McIlroy, Westwood couldn’t muscle his way past his former mate, who the Belfast Telegram cheekily says “is not one to back down from a barney.” Whatever that means.

“Keep yo mouth on lock…Shhh.”
Every time I’m on an airplane and we land, all the people around me turn on their cell phones immediately. Some even make a call as soon as possible. (“Hey, we just landed. Yep. We’re just pulling up to the gate.” Riveting.) The fans at PGA National were like this too. On Sunday’s broadcast, loudmouth fans yelled something after seemingly every one of Woods’ or McIlroy’s drives. And these weren’t even the typical “Get in the hole!” or “You da man!” They sounded like random phrases and thoughts–I’m pretty sure one guy just yelled “Ireland!” The point is, just because you can talk doesn’t mean you should. There’s nothing sadder than grown men screaming at sports.

“No resident of France, but you swear I’m from Paris. 106 carats, honey naw that’s per wrist.”
This has nothing to do with the golf tournament, I just don’t get this “Paris” lyric at all. Help.

“You ain’t gotta give me my props, just give me my rocks, give me my yachts.”
Perhaps the most impressive performance of the week went to Tom Gillis, who finished T2. An unknown 43-year-old who got less respect on Sunday’s broadcast than Rodney Dangerfield, Gillis probably didn’t expect to play well this week–one imagines him just counting the days until he could join the Champions Tour or become a color man for CBS (where’d he break down great shots on his patented “Gillistrator”).