By Dave Begel Contributing Writer Published Jun 16, 2006 at 5:17 AM
This is one of the greatest weekends in sports and one that golfers love.

Saturday and Sunday are the final two rounds of the United States Open golf tournament, and every year I try to figure out why I like the Open so much more than the Masters.

I’ve been to three Masters tournaments and two U.S. Opens. And I’ve watched both on television for a lot of years.

The Masters certainly has a lot to recommend it as the best.
    
It comes in spring; in fact, it is kind of a harbinger of spring.  It’s a beautiful sight after the gray of winter.
    
The Masters also features its share of drama. For example: Greg Norman’s incredible collapse; Larry Mize's chip-in during a playoff; Jack Nicklaus becoming the oldest player to win the tournament; Tiger Woods shattering the record as he ran away from the field; Phil Mickelson finally winning his first major title and proving that white men can’t jump when he sank his final putt.

Augusta National is certainly a magnificent setting for a golf tournament. There is no rough to speak of and the course, while having been lengthened, is not gargantuan. You have to make shots at Augusta and you certainly have to know how to play some of the trickiest greens in the world.

But, the very thing I don’t like about the Masters is one of the main reasons I like the U.S. Open.

Cut it any way you want, the Masters is an elitist gathering run by Augusta members -- old white men with Southern accents and green jackets who think they know better than the rest of the world.  They have a history of not caring much for black people and certainly not caring about women.

There is an old-fashioned qualification system and only about a hundred or so players get to the tournament. It's elite.

And it’s almost too breathless. From golf holes with colorful names to the glow of the azaleas, when you hear Jim Nantz and everybody else talk about the tournament, they sound like they are talking about Valhalla. This is just a golf tournament, after all. But to listen to those folks talk about it, the Masters is a combination of the Super Bowl, the Jerry Lewis Telethon and Holy Communion.

Consider the Open, then.

First of all, you’ve really got to play your way into the field. A month or so before the Open, about 7,500 players teed it up to try and qualify. After the local qualifying, about 700 players were in sectional qualifying, playing for about 50 or so spots. Now that’s rough.

Jay Haas, for example, has won three consecutive tournaments on the Champions Tour, but he had to qualify in Ohio to get into the Open. Guys who didn’t make it are people like Brad Faxon, Aaron Baddeley and Jesper Parnevik.

Golfers who made it included Andy Bare, Benjamin Hayes and Oliver Wilson. Never heard of them? Don’t worry, only their mothers know who they are. But they are in the Open.

The Open is the ultimate egalitarian golf tournament. A girl named Michelle Wie almost qualified, for God’s sake. Can you imagine how the earth in Augusta would shake if that happened in the Masters?

The other thing I like about the Open is the course.

The USGA figures that par is just fine for a score, thank you. And they set up the course where almost every player in the field would take even par for four rounds and sit in the clubhouse drinking mimosas while figuring his chances of winning were pretty good.

The greens at an Open course are faster than an 11:30 mass in Green Bay on Packers Sunday, the rough is like steel wool on steroids and the fairways are narrower than your arteries.

After the first round of the 1974 Open at Winged Foot, where no player broke par and only Gary Player managed an ever-par 70, Frank "Sandy" Tatum, chair of the USGA championship committee, was asked in a press briefing if he and the USGA were out to embarrass the best golfers in the world. "No. We’re trying to identify them," he replied.

That’s what the Open is all about. While the Masters belongs to those old white guys in green jackets, the Open belongs to all of us.
Dave Begel Contributing Writer

With a history in Milwaukee stretching back decades, Dave tries to bring a unique perspective to his writing, whether it's sports, politics, theater or any other issue.

He's seen Milwaukee grow, suffer pangs of growth, strive for success and has been involved in many efforts to both shape and re-shape the city. He's a happy man, now that he's quit playing golf, and enjoys music, his children and grandchildren and the myriad of sports in this state. He loves great food and hates bullies and people who think they are smarter than everyone else.

This whole Internet thing continues to baffle him, but he's willing to play the game as long as OnMilwaukee.com keeps lending him a helping hand. He is constantly amazed that just a few dedicated people can provide so much news and information to a hungry public.

Despite some opinions to the contrary, Dave likes most stuff. But he is a skeptic who constantly wonders about the world around him. So many questions, so few answers.