It’s all about the money
Apart, of course, from its garish equivalent that brings the corresponding parade of ostentation in the USA to a close.
Might there be any more dignity lost if the pair were to loosen their branded belts, unzip their slacks on the Jumeirah lawns and release twin gulf streams to turn this figurative pissing contest into a literal one? Ah, the money list. Sport’s answer to Petra Ecclestone’s wedding. €3,856,394 to €3,066,606 and it’s all to play for.
The notion that bank accounts and payslips should be used to settle any assessment of sporting consistency brings to mind that old church money-spinner when a tidily-priced indulgence would secure you a place in heaven.
I have yet to explain this strange kind of glory to a youngster and I hope that duty is never mine. After all, in my comic book days Tony Broke always emerged the hero in his tussles with Ivor Lott. For a sport with its roots in exclusivity and money, could there be an uglier message? In fairness to McIlroy, he doesn’t appear to take it too seriously, insisting another tournament win is the priority. The mystery is that anyone takes it seriously at all while tour organisers can’t just devise a sensible points structure for its league table.
