Be NICE To Monty : Join Golf Digest's campaign to halt the heckling

Golf Digest, June, 2002 by Jaime Diaz

Even golf fans--maybe especially golf fans--have a hard time turning away from an impending wreck. As the U.S. Open at Bethpage Black approaches, so does the seemingly unavoidable collision of Colin Montgomerie and New York acid-tongued spectators. Who will win: Monty the Querulous or Vinnie from Queens?

The billboard might appeal as low theater, the promise of a little carnage in a bloodless sport. But if New York's most rabid fans are allowed to direct even a hundredth of the abuse toward Montgomerie that they once heaped on, say, ex-Yankee pitcher Ed Whitson, it won't be a fair fight.

It doesn't matter if Montgomerie answers with his best golf or melts in the Long Island heat; unruly galleries simply can't be allowed to get a foothold in professional golf. There will be plenty of security officers in Montgomerie's group to head off problems, but at the risk of appearing preachy, Golf Digest offers this simple solution: Be nice to Monty.

Not because Montgomerie himself is so nice. It's true the 38-year-old Scot is intelligent and witty, a player his peers enjoy being paired with, a good dinner companion. But there is no denying that his on-course manner usually swings between peevish and airy, the stereotype of a supercilious Brit. When it comes to provoking the baser instincts of spectators, the guy is a knave magnet.

The thing is, even if he were wearing a powdered wig, Montgomerie probably would be left in relative peace if he didn't theatrically confront those who prod him with jibes like "Miss it!" (Or far, far uglier comments.) Monty spins to attention, his head raised with great offense, his voice quavering with emotion--"Why did you say that?"

If he were brawnier or seethed with more menace, Montgomerie probably could intimidate rowdy fans into shutting up. But let's face it, Monty's physiognomy doesn't make hecklers want to stop, it makes them want to persist. When he stares into the gallery so imploringly, you can almost hear the schoolyard challenge, "What are you gonna do now, cry?"

How other stars coped

Montgomerie himself is a wild card in this soap opera. He might get a grip and follow the example of Jack Nicklaus, who stoically stuck it to the belligerent factions of Arnie's Army in the '60s, or Gary Player, who after a fan approached him before a match-play event against Tony Jacklin and said, "You are a real s.o.b., and I hope Tony crushes you today," calmly replied, "I am sorry you feel the way you do, and I hope you have a great day."

Today's top players are likely hearing more derogatory comments than ever. A recent national survey by the nonprofit group Public Agenda found that 79 percent of 2,000 respondents say that a lack of respect and manners in daily life has become a serious problem in America. Still, most players suffer the rudest spectators silently, realizing the futility of fighting fire with fire. Greg Norman's response toward a heckler while leading the third round of the 1986 U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills was an aberration, and history shows that challenging the guy to fight didn't do Norman any good.

As Montgomerie's swing coach, Dennis Pugh, says, "I don't think it's much worse for any of the other stars. Imagine the stuff that Tiger must get. Just comes down to mental toughness, doesn't it?"

That's what Montgomerie displayed under the worst verbal assault of his career, at the 1999 Ryder Cup at Brookline. Knowing that a blowup would let down his team, Montgomerie channeled his fury into his game and played brilliant golf, at one point telling partner Paul Lawrie, "We have the chance to put it back in their faces."

Unfortunately, such hasn't been Montgomerie's favored method of coping with hecklers. After a first-round loss this year at the WGC-Accenture Match Play Championship, a furious Montgomerie said he would never again play in the United States. Four weeks later he was back at the Players Championship, where he received strong support from welcoming galleries. But when he was outdriven by Chris Smith on the 16th hole during the second round and a fan called out, "Hey, Monty, take the headcover off next time," the Scot grimly scanned the trees for the offender.

"Of course I'm not the only one who deals with this," Monty says. "I've just got to learn to block it out. I'm able to ignore 99 percent of it, but it's that 1 percent I have trouble ignoring that's getting me, isn't it?"

In the end, however, Montgomerie's mercurial ways of dealing with abuse are beside the point. Instead, the real issue is getting golf's expanding legions of fans to adhere to a time-honored code of behavior.

It starts with understanding why golf is different. It's a difficult idea for team-sports fans to accept. When they see a commercial that features New York Mets catcher Mike Piazza chanting "Hey, batta!" at Charles Howell III in mid-backswing, and then hitting away unperturbed when an annoyed Howell tries to get even, it reinforces the view of golfers as tightly strung babies. It's the mind-set that nationally syndicated sports-talk host Jim Rome plays to with his taunting "Mawn-ty" mantra.