I was watching the US Open golf final round last month, and as usual, I was rooting for my favorite player Scottie Scheffler to overtake Wyndham Clark for the title.
Clark had a 6-stroke lead, but the lightning-fast greens and knee-high rough could provide a scenario for a comeback. It almost happened, with the leader winning by a single stroke over Sam Burns.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the treatment Clark received from the patrons.
Applauding an opponent for good play is one thing, but cheering when Clark’s ball went into the rough or lipped out of the cup was unsportsmanlike and excessive.
Clark had a moment of anger at last year’s US Open at Oakmont where he damaged a locker in frustration, but he has since apologized many times for it. He still seems to be paying the price for it.
This incivility isn’t limited to sports; it’s increasing in all areas of life.
There is a saying about someone speeding through a yellow light. They call that “squeezing the lemon.” But there are many intersections near my home and office where they should change the saying to “squeezing the tomato.” Cars race through lights that have been red for a good 3-5 seconds. I always check both ways when my light is green, and then wait a bit. I don’t want to be a statistic.
And if you are going the speed limit on any highway, be prepared to get run over from behind.
I’m no prude, but the F-bomb is now prevalent in many public conversations and is repeated loudly in restaurants when women and children are present. Even our sports heroes take the podium after a championship and let it fly.
I don’t think I ever heard my father say that word in public or private. And in the old days when I took my family out to eat and overheard the word too many times I walked over to the offending table and reminded them that women and children were present.
That was when I was in shape and could defend myself. Now I would have to survey the offending party and figure out the best way to get my message across.
Flight attendants are being punched in the nose for a seat mix-up. Grocery cashiers have food thrown at them for not discounting an item that is no longer on sale.
It’s sad.
But when I get really down I head to a Wawa where everyone holds the door open for you and says thank you.
The coffee there is delicious, but the manners and civility are refreshing.
