Today, Sunday, May the 7th is a day that the golfing gods meddled with human events to fulfill their own needs. As I’ve written before, the amateur game is far more significant than the PGA tour, and the amateur player is far more important in the scheme of things than the touring pro. Occasionally, the gods realize this, and realize that they are in peril. They realize that they might lose many of their amateur players if the game continues to be so tough, and they take action: today was one of those days.

Thousands of players came home after their Sunday rounds this morning and pledged that they would never play golf again. These players were tired of hitting shank after shank; they were tired of having every person who watched them swing offer some “helpful advice"; they were tired of wasting so much time and money, and they were especially tired of thinking about the game even when they weren’t on the course.

But the gods were prepared. If you are a believer that one great shot can bring a person back time and time again, then certainly you can see that there was something much larger at play on the links today. Rather than targeting single golfers, the gods pulled off their largest attack ever.

Jim Furyk and Jim Thorpe, who have striking similarities other than the fact that they share the same first name, both had very good days on the golf course. Thorp put up a 63 at the Regions Charity Classic , setting a course record, and Furyk managed his way through his round enough to beat a very strong field at the Wachovia Championships. The gods aimed to lure unsuspecting players back in by showing them that a swing doesn’t have to be pretty to win, and it worked. Many of the once-dejected players saw light at the end of the tunnel as they realized that there isn’t one correct swing, regardless of what David Leadbetter says. Most of them fell victim to golf’s siren-like song, and totally forgot why they were so angry earlier.

To top it all off, those who weren’t quite sure they wanted to recant on their statements from earlier in afternoon heard that Retief Goosen made a 9 (aka Snowman’s illegitimate child) on the finishing par four, and they were sold on the game again. “Hell, I could beat a 9 on that hole,” most of them thought.

As all of this happened, the gods sat back and giggled. They had all of their pawns and puppets back in their grasps, many more hypnotized than ever.

Make no mistake my friends, we are not dealing with loving and forgiving gods here. These are evil, vengeful, and malicious spirits who will stop at nothing to keep you hostage. Today, they took the two guys with just about the ugliest swings on tour and brought glory upon them; and then, just for kicks, they took one of the most steady players on tour and gave him a 9 on the final hole of an important tournament.

Next time you feel as though you’re being controlled on the course, in the golf store, or at the bar after your round, remember that they are always watching.