Who knows these millionaires? 36 guys won a million on the PGA Tour in 1999. Some of 'em I never even heard of - imagined comments from golf fans reading the 'PGA Tour's Final Statistics for 1999' - Brief Article

Golf Digest, Feb, 2000

Dan Jenkins

So these two golf fans were discussing this exciting new mystery thriller they'd picked up at the bookstore and had just finished reading. It was called The PGA Tour's Final Statistics for 1999.

Although it didn't have Dracula in the title, it did suggest a certain amount of bloodcurdling horror between the covers.

"Lot of scary stuff in there," the first guy said. "That part about all those players becoming millionaires made me scream. My wife heard it in the next room."

"Scared me, too," said the other guy. "What was it? Something like 36 guys won over a million dollars in prize money?"

"Yeah, 36. Still gives me a shiver."

"I knew there were several, but you could have busted me on 36."

"Some of 'em I never even heard of. Dennis Paulson? Mike Weir? Chris Perry? Those are golfers?"

"Terrifying."

"Tell you what else was kind of eerie. That part where 13 of the 36 millionaires didn't even win a tournament in '99."

"Right. A guy doesn't even win a Southern Farm Bureau Classic but comes away with a million-three for the year."

"Try a million-seven."

"Try two million! You might as well read Hannibal again."

"Seems like it pays to not win."

"Obviously. But no big deal today. A CEO gets paid for driving your stock into the sewer. An artist gets paid for tipping over a bucket of paint onto a canvas. Baseball players get paid for scratching and spitting all summer. NBA guys get paid for carrying the ball five steps. Rock musicians get paid for looking like carnival geeks and not making music. I think it all started when Elvis got paid for not being able to sing."

"Like somebody said: Your boomers today confuse activity with accomplishment."

As they talked, the two golf fans were trying to bounce a ball on their lob wedges-like Tiger Woods in the TV commercial.

Now the first guy said, "I've been going to tournaments since I was a kid. Ben Hogan, Sam Snead and Jimmy Demaret came to town, my dad took me. Every year I looked forward to it. But I'll tell you one thing. Back then, I never once said, 'Hey, Dad, here's a good threesome, let's go follow Joe Zarhardt, Gene Kunes and Bunny Torpey.' Nobody ever said that. Not once. Never."

"I had the same experience. I'm younger than you, but my dad took me to the tournaments, too. I'm fairly sure I never asked him if we could go follow Stan Dudas and Bob Shave."

"You followed the ticket sellers, is what you did."

"Quick as I could get the credential tied on my belt. Who sells tickets today? Tiger and who?"

"Tiger's the only locomotive. He pulls eight boxcars of O'Mearas."

"Sergio sells."

"True."

"Greg still does."

"More or less."

"Couples."

"Occasionally."

"Daly."

"When he stays the whole four rounds."

"Colin?"

"If Mary Queen of Scots is in town."

"Pretty frightening chapter on the 125 players who are exempt for 2000. I'll bet I didn't know 25 of them."

"I didn't know 50."

"Actually, I didn't find anything in the book more hair-raising than the statistical leaders."

"Brutal. I didn't sleep for three days."

"Fred Funk is first in driving accuracy. . . . Frank Lickliter is third in putting. . . . Greg Chalmers is fourth in sand saves. . . . Somebody named Joe Durant is second in greens hit."

"What about the all-around ranking? You've got your Kirk Triplett sixth and your Jonathan Kaye 10th. But I say it's OK. I don't begrudge any of the money these guys get. They're the most vital people on tour."

"They are?"

"Of course. Think about it. Without them, Tiger Woods has got nobody to beat."