My relationship with golf goes back to 1958, when as a toddler, I walked into Auntie Grizz's vicious backswing and broke a jaw tooth in half.

There was no permanent damage, yet Auntie was devastated by the amount of blood.  Things looked bad at first, but after I managed to scrub the blood off and remove those little fragments of tooth, her beloved Louise Suggs 2-wood wasn't even scratched.

Golf in '58 was exciting for me, what with all the blood and running and screaming and Arnie and Hogan.  The Sixties', with Jack and Gary and Lee--and my Dad playing Monday qualifiers--were exciting times.  The Seventies' were pretty wild times on golf courses.

But in the Eighties', except for Jack's outburst in '86, things began to get dull.

Tiger came along in the Nineties' and fired things up a little, but the college clone effect, the onset of the glacial pace and a general tight-buttedness conspired to choke the spark from golf.

And now . . . well, now something has to be done.  That's why I have reached back into the most exciting time in my golf memory (1958) for a solution to the slow and dull hardening of the arteries of golf.

I am determined to introduce some excitement into golf, the kind that will appeal to young people who grew up thinking that falling off a skateboard and straddling a handrail at high speed was normal.  

Everyone else has had their say, now it's up to those of us that actually work in golf to step up and fix it.