Monday Musings: I guess that was pretty good, Phil

Phil Mickelson builds a shed in his backyard. He buys the best possible materials that he can, and meticulously uses top-notch equipment in a skilful display to fashion all of the the pieces together. He measures twice and cuts once. His keen eye and steady hands mean it's a perfectly square foundation, with strong, steady walls and a soaring peaked roof that is exactly, I mean exactly, 90 degrees at its apex. Not only is Phil a master carpenter, but he is also a skilled electrician. He wires that shed up and its lights blaze with the power of the constellations. Then, as the neighbours look on in increasing amazement, Phil paints that shed a glorious hue, one that defies description here, so that it gleams in the sun. He finishes by painting an immaculate, Louvre-worthy fresco on the side of his shed and then affixes a marvellous, golden rooster weather vane - one that he hand forged himself - to the top of that shed. Man, that shed looks fantastic. It's a gorgeous shed and all the neighbours agree; it's the finest shed they've ever seen. Bravo, Phil!

Then Henrik Stenson moves in next door and builds an even better one. The end.

Pity poor Phil Mickelson. But not too, too much. He built one of the truly great sheds anyone's ever seen. It's a great shed. A phenomenal shed. An all-time great shed. You know, it's just not as nice as Henrik's, is all.

Lefty and Phil may have been the biggest stories at The Open but something else was quite apparent this last week at Royal Troon; We need more 'Beef' in our lives. As in Andrew Johnston, whose full nickname is actually 'Beefhead.' The 27-year-old from London, England is a real beaut, all burly and beardy and full of easy-to-like grassroots fun. A guy who actually insists on being called 'Beef,' because "only my mom and

girlfriend call me Andrew.” A guy who pulls some jerky out of his bag for a mid-round snack. Who can't go for a guy who has the names of nine different types of  meat cuts stamped on his wedge? He does. He has that. And his whiskers make him look like he'd be a fine son of the Klopeks from the movie "The 'Burbs." 'Beef' has apparently been invited to this week's Canadian Open in Oakville, Ontario, and hopes to land an invitation for next week's PGA Championship. I'll bet a couple dozen television producers from the U.S. will be in the galleries, trying to get a deal. We just have to have a show with mama and papa beef as well as all the beef siblings and friends, who I like to think will be called 'Beefaroni.'

Don't blow this golf. Happy Gilmore has arrived for you and he's even better than Adam Sandler's creation.

THE LITTLE THINGS

Oh, how I want Vin Scully and Bob Cole to do play-by-play of the Republican National Convention this week. Then again, I'd like them to do play-by-play of just about everything.

Nashville Predatorss defenceman P.K. Subban took his new city by storm over the weekend. Even sang some Johnny Cash (Folsom County Blues) at a little bar called Tootsie's. Not bad. But covering Tammy Wynette's "Stand By Your Man" and dedicating it to the Montreal Canadiens might have been a good call. "I Skate the Line" would also be just fine.

My favourite part of The Tenors all-star anthem fiasco was the moment the guy standing immediately next to the "All Lives Matter" guy looked at him like he'd just ordered a round of Bud Prohibition Brew for the entire table.

Former New York Mets' outfielder Darryl Strawberry claims that he used to occasionally have sex between innings. "Guys, I'm gonna go hit the weight room. Umm, let's have some real quality at-bats, 'kay? Step out and call 'time' a lot."

This week's suggested internet login password: LoneWolfTenor

Golfer Darren Clarke had his gum fall out of his mouth and onto a green at Royal Troon. He picked it up and put it back in his mouth. Hey, man, this ain't Augusta. Those greens haven't been polished.

Sidney Crosby brought the Stanley Cup to a Tim Horton's in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia. He was heard to say "I brought my own travel mug. Do you think one of your extra large lids would cover this baby?"

First line of a story I'd liked to have seen in relation to Crosby's Stanley Cup visit: "The Stanley Cup was damaged, today, when a group of excited, overly caffeinated donut shop patrons tried to roll up its rim."

BUT SERIOUSLY

Rory McIlroy is taking some heat for comments he made about Olympic golf, but he ain't all wrong.

Not in his assessment of Olympic golf and not in his decision to skip the Rio Games (which he had said was over concerns about the Zika virus).

"I'll probably watch the Olympics, but I'm not sure golf will be one of the events I'll watch," McIlroy said during The Open last week. When asked what he would watch, McIlroy replied: "Probably track and field, swimming, diving, the stuff that matters."

It's "the stuff that matters" comment that seems to really have riled the golf establishment, who'd like the game's return to the Olympics (first time since 1904) to boost its popularity.

That's not a bad plan, perhaps, but Olympics golf is not a must watch event right now and it's simply because it won't be a tourney you can watch along the lines of The Open, The Masters, The PGA Championship or the United States Open. May not be as important as three or four other tourneys below those either.

I'd be very surprised if any golfer - any golfer - would tell you that they'd take an Olympic gold over a title in one of the majors right now. And only a small part of that would be about the money. It'd be about adding your name to the list of the greatest golfers who've ever played the game.

The Olympics has a nationalistic kind of draw to it - winning for your country and all that - however, golf already has that going for it. Winning one of those majors has almost always been about the individual achievement, that is true, but not far beneath that there has always been the notion that the victor's country of origin was a big, big deal. It's why you see flags on the leaderboards.

McIlroy's idea that golf isn't one of the sports that matters at the Olympics might sound a little harsh but it isn't far off the mark if at all.

An already crowded golf year is chock full of championships that matter more, for both player and country.