Water baby Ishikawa won’t be last victim

IT wasn’t on the first ball that caused a splash, nor was it on the next one. But at the par-three 17th — Ryo Ishikawa’s eighth hole — when his tee shot fell short and for a swim with the fish, the thought occurred.

That you had to feel sorry for the 19-year-old from Japan was surely understandable.

But mostly, there was this: There’s much to dislike about golf courses that have so many water hazards.

Up front, let’s be square — the excess of water hazards cannot be used as excuses. One week after nearly winning a World Golf Championship at the Bridgestone Invitational, the 19-year-old phenomenon from Japan descended the from top of the golf world like a mudslide after 10 days of rain.

He was the latest in a line of players to serve as proof that this game is incredibly humbling. After shooting four straight rounds in the 60s at Firestone CC last week, Ishikawa rinsed five balls on his outward nine, shot 45 on the back holes, and perhaps gave thought to rushing into the pro shop for another sleeve or two.

Instead, Ishikawa went to the first tee, came home in 40 so that his 15-over 85 was by four strokes the worst of the morning wave.

There had been visions in the aftermath of Ishikawa’s Bridgestone heroics of him possibly winning a Major this week, of earning his PGA Tour card for 2012, of landing that much-anticipated breakthrough win.

Farewell to all of that, but as Adam Scott — who last Sunday held off Ishikawa in a stirring final round and yesterday was paired with him and witnessed the 85 — stood in blistering sunshine, he noticed a remarkable slice of this story. Crushed by the 15-over round, Ishikawa could have run and hid, pushing past reporters and getting his agent to open an escape route.

Not Ishikawa. Seated in a chair beneath a black umbrella to shield the sun, the teenager answered questions for perhaps 30 minutes as a throng of Japanese media surrounded him. The gist of what he said was this — he is committed to making swing changes.

“Last week it went well,” Ishikawa said. “This can still happen, though it’s not a surprise.”

Scott nodded his head.

“I definitely feel for him today. (But) he’ll be fine. He’s already a great champion.”

WALKING along to witness the splashes, it’s hard not to agree with Scott for one reason — this is a young man who shot a scintillating 64 at a very tough Firestone CC just five days ago.

Then again, it’s also not hard to believe because of that one feature that dominates the Atlanta Athletic Club — water.

It is seemingly in play on every hole and while you might think that Ishikawa found every drop of it, he did not. But the man who carries a nation’s hopes on his shoulders every day surely reminded those in attendance what is to dislike about water hazards. That is, they strip the game of strategy. You digest a number, pull a club, and slam away.

“If you mis-club or mis-hit even slightly, it’s a penalty,” David Toms said.

Yes, he won this Major here 10 years ago, but Toms is not a huge fan of the style of golf it takes to play AAC. Unlike links golf, where you create shots that can be played along the ground, or many classic courses that are tree-lined and populated by doglegs, the Atlanta Athletic Club is like many of those American courses that look spectacularly beautiful — so long as you can carry long shots over big bodies of water.

“That’s why for the power players it’s a different deal,” Toms said.

Ishikawa was already two over when he hit a shot from an elevated tee onto the green at 15, a whopping 260 yards away. His shot strayed right and splashed. The tee shot at 17, required to be perhaps 200 yards, went about 195. Splash.

Neither shot was very good, but neither were they particularly awful. But they cost him dearly because of water, a design that is particularly popular with architects of American golf courses, much as that pains me.