Aesop's Bat

Over the summer, I read an Op-Ed piece by David Brooks in the New York Times which stuck with me. I have posted the link to it above. Also, I include a link to Michele Lamont's The Dignity of Working Men, which provides the intellectual basis for the piece. Though the anecdotal portion of the piece alternates between fawning and respect, the analysis distills some interesting ideas about how moral priorities supercede economic and social factors in framing the complexities of class division as well as a hypothetical, but strong link between morality and success of populist politics. So, rather than speculate at what the unifying principle may be until I read Lamont's opus, I ask where does caddying fit into this construct and nomenclature? Caddying certainly has its share of mythology, romance, the possibility of dying with one's boots on while trying to make a big score. What is the underlying ethos of chasing a little white ball across fields, state lines, continents? 

 

Caddying is a paradoxical bind. The quotidian aspects of preparing to win a golf tournament include checking yardages, adding information which is not in the yardage book (the only aid allowed during competition), and observing course and weather conditions. Caddies have total autonomy as to how much or little effort they expend in addition to practice rounds, practice sessions, and competitive play. A lot depends on what an individual player demands. Some like extra numbers. Others need help on the greens, so spending time leveling greens or rolling balls to determine how putts break to certain hole locations is a more optimal use of one's time. Yet despite the autonomy one has in preparing, one ties his fortunes inextricably to player performance. Yes, caddies earn a salary, but most revenue comes from performance based bonuses. Some caddies who work very hard during the week may not be proportionately rewarded financially because their players may struggle. So, like commercial fishing or mechanics on the NASCAR circuit or even derivatives traders, they are chasing the maximum amount of yield out of their investments, and rates of return result from luck as much as they do from skill sometimes. It seems reward often comes from not taking anything off the table rather than necessarily bringing something to the table. So is the nature of the job 'honest' the way farming or trucking or factory work are? Carrying the bag is hard physical toil; doing so under the pressure of tournament conditions is increasingly stressful. But much of that stress comes from that bind of tying one's fortune to someone else's results. It is an easy hard job from a physical standpoint. Unlike factory work, firefighting, or commercial fishing, caddying has few fatal occupational hazards. 

 

So, the profession is a bit of a hybrid, where the most gains come by virtue of someone else's effort, yet the basic tasks and duties seem to square with the satisfying aspects of an honest day's labor. Within the construct of Brooks' piece, caddying does not fit into either the blue or white collar world. Thus, its relative respectability or worth as a profession is rather indeterminate. Perhaps it is anomalous, beyond classification. Maybe this is what makes it so attractive to those who have gotten a bit of grass in the shoes.

In Memoriam: Steve Duplantis

Here is the PGA Tour web site story of Steve's death. I invite anyone to share in remembering a fraught, unordinary, and full life.

 

In the film Fight Club, the characters played by Brad Pitt and Edward Norton hopped on an NYC bus and observed an underwear advertisement. Brad Pitt's character proclaimed, "Self-improvement is masturbation. Self destruction is the answer." Angsty, post-modern men go out of their way to search for an absent existential struggle. An easy life is unfulfilling, and easy means boring. When conforming to societal norms and expectations, having trouble find you is not an issue. However, life confronts seekers of meaning with a tough paradox to accept: the necessity of destroying the self created complicitly with the world and refashion it through permanent rebellion.

 

I knew as much about Steve from our acquaintance as I did from stories of his reputation. However, I looked forward to the rare, few occasions I would see him every year. From what I knew and observed of Steve Duplantis, his central conflict was also between pragmatic duties - responsibilities of parenthood, working in high stakes competitive sport - and the thrills of pain through pleasure. He ran simultaneous races, one to the top and one to the bottom. Some burned the candle at both ends, but few have the balls to burn two candles - one from the right end, one from the wrong end - to see which one will the flame will consume first. Unlike the filmic ego-splitting between the real and actualized selves of the two Tyler Durdens, Steve's duality was more prosaic. "Only good when you're in the hunt," was one way I heard him described. "You take a big chance with a whiff, but you have to. What if you're playing good?" is another strange compliment to his abilities. "Stevie, top 5 caddie out here. No question." was probably the best and most accurate. His presence was hugely beneficial. His absence was costly. Professionally, he took chances other caddies would never consider in their wildest dreams.

 

The circumstances of his death are not shocking to anyone initiated to his lifestyle and tastes, but the suitability of his logical end does not make it any less sad. For all his faults, he possessed courage and spirit. He tempted Fates in ways those around him found confusing and counter intuitive. A contemporary Pechorin, he turned much he touched to gold. Within his niche, in his inimitable way, his actions still had purpose, a point. My condolences to his family, his intimate friends, and, above all, his little girl. May she have inherited his special type of will. In pace requiescat.

And the #1 reason for revoking MLB anti-trust exemption is...

Congress can use its time better, especially during a war and potential economic downturn. No one disputes some of the relevant issues of the MLB steroid scandal - the role of organized labor in protecting its members, the regulation of the monopoly power of a multi-billion dollar league, and ethical and health repercussions on society. However, Congressional inquiry only partially addresses the cyclical symptom rather than the pathology of a structural deficiency. All the while, this is the latest way in which legislators have ducked responsibility to their constituents. Evasion, tangents, and nuance often characterize tactical approaches to political discourse, but this present version makes any of its predecessors look somewhat amateurish. The term 'do nothing Congress' is on the verge of being overused. I am not the most well informed person in the world, but I cannot recall the last significant legislative accomplishment. Both the depth and breadth of the declining number of bills being mooted is alarming. More may not necessarily be better, and no one advocates talking merely for its own sake, but it is specious to think that politicians have become ultra-efficient at debating issues and reconciling policy with law. Moreover, taking time away from what many consider doing nothing already to pretend to do something requires a lot of nerve. Rather strange that Congress shows some initiative in investigating shady practices of a fraction of 1% of the people in baseball. The whole exercise and the issues addressed have negligible social benefit when measured against anything this committee could otherwise do. The dodges and weaves away from pressing issues during war, during an election year, are embarrassing, and they could not have come at a worse time as President Bush tries to make a compelling case for adopting democracy. Tough sell if this is the best democracy has to offer.

21st century laissez-faire

The efficacy of economic regulation relates to why it was written. In the aftermath of scandal, policy and law are intrinsically reactive and extreme. Though rare, such regulation poses downside risk in an open economy. In America, by no means can business exercise total free will, but markets are allowed to mature of their own accord. Government and courts ought to facilitate efficient markets rather than intervene unless there are compelling competitive grounds, and not all regulation is bad. Setting recognized, predictable standards for regulation and legal protection attracts capital.

 

Perhaps an advantage to the Bretton Woods agreement was that the country backing the reserve currency owed it to the world to maintain impeccable credentials for probity. If dodgy practices occurred, then the knock-on effects on the world economy would have been large. Any sharp rise in U.S. interest rates or capital flight might have triggered economic collapses in countries who borrowed from the World Bank. I am not advocating a formal return to this system, but it left a legacy: the dollar remains in the eyes of many the global standard even if its status is de facto and not de jure. Yet, recent regulation has provided rather short term benefit. 

 

Sarbanes-Oxley did much to restore faith in public markets after scandals. However, its corollary effect sparked a boom in private equity investment as companies sought private finance rather than complying with onerous filing protocols. Private equity deals relied greatly on leverage facilitated by cheap credit. By cutting interest rates, the fed eased the pain of recession brought on from the puncture of the dot-com bubble. In addition to the cyclical shifts in corporate organization, equity research changed also as investment banks began shifting away from in-house analysts after the Quattrone fiasco at CSFB. Luckily, the presidential election has distracted lawmakers somewhat from proffering a knee-jerk, slapdash bill in the aftermath of the end of the recent housing bubble, which ironically sprung from the monetary easing used to stave off any deep effects from the previous bubble. This time, legislation would affect ratings agencies breaching ethical rules of advising firms whose equity and debt they rated on what firms could do to receive a desirable rating, and thus receive favorable terms form their creditors. 

 

Despite great uncertainty over the extent of the credit crunch, bank exposure to sub-prime mortgage-backed securities, and what role did ratings agencies play, three truths emerge. 

 

One, ratings agencies cannot compromise objectivity in the same ways auditors cannot. Independent risk assessment is as important as accurate account statement – the two are inexorably linked to efficient results. If accounts are dodgy, than the price signals to the market will be based on a falsehood. Hence, the market would be inefficient. 

 

Second, because the severity of mortgage market is yet unknown, the distraction of a federal election is a good thing. Instead of hasty, incompletely thought out bills, and pressure on an ill-prepared Congress to act, the SEC,, Treasury department, Justice Department anti-trust division, and bank regulators can do their parts in sorting through the scale of the mess first, and only then prosecuting any crimes which may have been committed. 

 

Third, though financial markets have become more competitive since the repeal of arcane laws such as Glass-Steagall, it is false to conclude that efficiency is feasible absent regulation. Rather, correcting for this market failure lies in stricter rules separating ratings agencies and their clients, an explicit, accepted method of pricing securities based on mathematical models, and, most importantly, funding regulatory agencies to enforce the rules and monitor market activity for irregularities. 

 

“The mission of the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission is to protect investors, maintain fair, orderly, and efficient markets, and facilitate capital formation,” according to the SEC website. Knowing how and what type of securities are being issued certainly falls under these auspices. Fifty years ago, stout regulatory mechanisms attracted investors to American stocks and bonds because of high levels of market predictability. Recent volatility strengthens the case for addressing these structural failings which limit the competitive advantage of sound institutions.

Coolest name ever

Tokyo Sexwale. Tokyo is a nickname. The surname is probably not pronounced phonetically. Truthfully, the comic potential is limited and sophomoric. The man is a rising political star who suffered dual cruelties of lock up and exile. By choosing him party leader, the African National Congress can both maintain its link to Nelson Mandela as well as put forth a moderate, less controversial figure in the top spot. But, on the other hand, saying the name aloud according to anglophone pronunication would doubtless elicit a few titters, and not just in news rooms. Some words and concepts have a way of cutting through the white noise of conversation for certain people. The image of several absurd possibilities - a Japanese dildo, a plus-sized hooker residing in Shinagawa, a horny sumo - spark curiosity. But wait, he realistically can become the next president of the most prosperous and influential sub-Saharan African nation. If I were a head of state, I would do anything to be the first to invite him on a visit. Like Balzac, his name has a dual entendre, but it commingles geography, sex, and large, sea dwelling mammals. But enough deconstruction. Say it loud, say it proud, say it with a straight face.

Doing what's been done, but better...

The first days of a new year serve as a fashionable occasion to offer predictions or start year long pools. My friends ask my input about whom to pick, and I help them when I can. I don't have all the answers, and barring the top 50 players in the world, past performance is never the most accurate indicator of future results. Injury, personal crises, boredom, and complacency are a few hurdles that are part of the chase, and, if overcoming them were easy, then the chase would not be nearly as thrilling or lucrative. Conversely, personal joy, learning a new shot, improved technique, increasing stamina or clubhead speed all can elevate the status of someone who has struggled in his career thus far. Ask me for a prediction, and it will doubtless be biased by my whom I have seen live and under the gun. Some have tremendous wow factor, others impressed me with their grit or course management. The proliferation of media and reportage does not leave too many secrets too well kept, but I will give it a shot. Here is a quick list in no particular order of not so obvious names of whom to watch, where they play, and why: 

 

1. Aron Price (Nationwide) - When I saw him at first stage in 2005, He and fellow Aussie Matt Jones (earned PGA Tour card via Nationwide Money List) had the two best golf swings of any player there by all objective measures. Strong iron player with good fire. 

2. Ryuji Imada (PGA) – One of the best short games on Tour. He will win this year. 

3. John Mallinger (PGA) – Gestalt golf game – well rounded without deficiency. Simple golf swing worth emulating. 

4. Jin Park (PGA) – Plain and simple, he plays with balls. On Tour, that goes a long way. 

5. Martin Laird (PGA) - Some guys hit it long, he hits it hard. Really hard. 

6. Chris Stroud (PGA) – Played Tour last year with a good finish in New Orleans. Best practice habits of any young American player I ever saw. 

7. John Merrick (PGA) – Long, accurate driver. Brilliant iron player. Beautiful putting stroke. Looks the part. 

8. Garret Osborn (Nationwide) – Attempted to qualify for Open Championship last year as an amateur. Attempted in Europe. Wants the big stage. 

9. Thomas Aiken (Europe) – Turned pro at 18. Absolutely kills it. 

10. Garth Mulroy (Nationwide) – Big hitter. Birdie machine. Ought to get a Tour card this year.

Tennis and golf are frequently associated with a leisurely bourgeoisie. Yet, the two sports inexorably linked to a country club class differ within fictional and filmic representations. Forgetting trite, convenient sport-as-life metaphors, tennis seems to have an advantage (pardon the pun) in which works have presented the game. Infinite Jest, a novel by David Foster Wallace, Matchpoint, a film by Woody Allen and The Squid and the Whale, a film written and directed by Noah Baumbach are recent examples where authors portray tennis prominently in a work which can be considered good art. I will exclude Henry V because it is a history. The gift of tennis balls by the Dauphin really did precipitate the Battle of Agincourt. 

 

Moreover, unlike other students of Literature, I begrudgingly accept Shakespeare rather than accept him unquestionably. There is no ‘great work’ which prominently features the game of physical golf. There may not even be a mention of golf in ‘good literature’ barring perhaps Vladimir Nabokov’s, Pale Fire, in which characters play ‘word golf,’ where one word is transformed into another by iterations of individual letter substitution. Like in actual golf, the lowest score, measured in steps (strokes), wins, and, tangentially, the CAT-DOG transformation, cited in Wikipedia as one of the longest, could be solved in three steps: CAT-COT-COG-DOG. P.G. Wodehouse, an avid golfer and a prolific, witty, and cogent writer, wrote much about the gentleman’s game. Writing in a humorous tone, he set a precedent for depicting golf and the type of people who played it as things not to be taken too seriously by either reader or participant. In that, having kept golf out of a serious context has been a good thing. No surprise that some of the most popular and possibly best movies about the game are comedies: Caddieshack and Dead Solid Perfect. Popular books include light hearted treatments of the game. Biographical renderings by John Daly and Rick Reilly are enjoyed en masse. However, as appealing as fictionalized humor pieces are, serious, documentary, non-fiction works – Men on the Bag by John Feinstein or Q-School Confidential by David Gould – have as much cachet for the reading public. Of course, instructional literature sought by die-hard enthusiasts focused on improving also sell. The Greatest Game Ever Played was a biopic of sorts. The Legend of Bagger Vance was rubbish. 

 

So these facts beg the questions: is it even possible to write a fictional novel or film script in which golf features prominently without falling back into cliché as well as have it end up as objectively good literature and not be primarily comic? There is certainly scope, but should it even be attempted?