Golf's gender gap: men are from Mars, women are from Olympia

Brooke Henderson is 18, and in the grinding world of pro golf already a major tournament winner and among the game’s brightest young talents. Ask her about being a part of golf’s return to the Olympics, and she’ll answer the expected, about national pride, long-held dreams, but also more: For her, this is history, and the motivation of wearing the Maple Leaf to defend the last Olympic golf title handed out 112 years ago to George Lyon, a Canadian sports hall of famer.

Ditto Henderson's compatriot Alena Sharp, for whom surviving the cut has taken on added meaning in 2016. Her weekly routine this year has included a check of the LPGA rankings which determine Olympic eligibility. At No. 31, she’ll join No. 2-ranked Henderson in Rio’s field of 60.

So there’s two women - two Canadian women - not just eager to head into the South American winter and brave the storm of calamities that have beset these Olympic Games, but schooling themselves for it and working every angle to get there. Congrats to them both, and they’re not alone either, with only one pro from the LPGA women’s tour begging off an assignment. Sharp put it this way on Sunday:

Contrast that with Rory McIlroy, one of 18 male golfers, including the top four in the world, having declared themselves out for Rio:

So there we are: When it comes to golf, men are from Mars, women are from Olympia.

The Zika virus that’s been the overwhelming reason put forth by McIlroy and his fellow clubs-over-country pros for their stand is understandable, if a little overblown given the actual risk. If these guys offered up some of the other concerns surrounding this tournament -- like, say, the need to spend upwards of $20 million CDN to build a course opposed by some on environmental grounds -- maybe there’d be some evidence of reflection beyond just an excuse of convenience. If this was about more than just McIlroy's refuting of one of the Olympics’ hoariest of truths - that they’re about something bigger than the games played -- maybe there’d be something to take away beyond him burying himself further and further in the rough with talk that yes, he'll be watching the Olympics, but probably just "track and field, swimming, diving. The stuff that matters." Oh Rory. You do go on.

As bad as McIlroy & Co. come off here, the PGA tour’s priorities are nearly as skewed. Unlike the LPGA - which at $63 million in prizes is definitely the junior partner here - where the schedule this year includes a two-week Olympic break, the PGA has made no allowances.

In a way, it's no surprise. Male tour golfers are creatures of routine, and in general the most narrow-minded, tunnel-visioned of athletes I’ve encountered in a lifetime of covering sports. The best of them are engaging -- as long as the subject is golf. Most are chasing the green - at least McIlroy's open about that - and at $325 million up for grabs on this year’s tour, there’s a lot of green to be had.

But think back 24 years, to when the first basketball “Dream Team” took the floor in Barcelona with the considerable weight of NBA marketing and myth-making behind them. The games were embarrassingly one-sided, but David Stern’s long-range call to allow millionaire pros like Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley take part paid off, igniting a huge global growth spurt in the league, and the sport.

Comparing that moment in basketball and this one for golf is not exactly a fit, but there’s perhaps that much at stake here. Off this kind of non-participation on the male side -- amid the game's downward trending - golf's inclusion beyond the next Olympics will be up for debate, and what a shame that’d be for the likes of Henderson, Sharp, and their sisters worldwide to have it all end because of male apathy.

Here’s an idea: Let the women play at Tokyo 2020, and beyond. As for the men, tell ‘em to stay home and enjoy the John Deere Classic.