#the event guy does not have a singular setup he always uses

[grassbreads]

I have to organize an event at work. I asked the assistant of the guy running the event whether he wants anything changed in the event room (tables moved, chairs added, etc).

She said "he wants the same layout he always uses for events."

I said "Can you be more specific? You know what the room's default layout is. Does he want anything moved or changed?"

She said, "I think he'd like the same setup he has always used."

MA'AM

[vroenis]

Reaching Out, Reaching In

It would be criminal not to use ABIIOR for the lede given I’m going to quote Matty albeit not quite verbatim - nevertheless - buy this album, it’s incredible.

But of-course, I’m going to start by talking about

BT

I mention BT a lot; he enters the lists often in my writing, in my discussions. Like many artists in my collection and listening rotation, I seem to be really into an artist for a period of time and then reach a cutoff point where I stop being into them. This probably happens for most people, I don’t know, I’ve not asked most people, but I do want to be very careful of not living in the past or rather dying in it. Still, I like to keep finding new things or rather I’m compelled to. I enjoy things that continue to grow older each second time passes, but I always thirst for new creations by all artists of all ages, whether they bring to bear the experience of years, or they’ve only been around for a few. The point is everyone is here on this wild ride and art is their response to the stimuli; it’s what comes out of us in abstract and semi-abstract, re-translated and it forms these amazing emotional and often transcending connections and multifaceted responses in us and by us I mean me.

I’m getting distracted.

In the last and understandably downcast piece on my deathbed playlist, there are three key BT albums and it’s worth noting the years he released them;

2006 - This Binary Universe

2012 - Nuovo Morceau Subrosa

2016 - _ (untitled - there’s a story, you can look it up if you like, it’s more or less just referred to as the character *underscore*(verbal))

There were other albums in-between but naturally those don’t make the list as far as what I want to be hearing if I’m half or unconscious or in a delirium on my way to imminent death. In 2019, BT released two albums;

October 2019 - Between Here And You

December 2019 - Everything You’re Searching For Is On The Other Side Of Fear

You may remember I wrote a whole lot about 2009 - 2019 and these albums were absent.

If you go to the wiki for BT, which are his initials for Brian (Wayne) Transeau, you’ll see a wonderfully rich history of a stupendously talented musician and immensely intelligent individual. He is part of a collective of people most wouldn’t know about (which is perfectly fine, to be honest) who are responsible for the digital audio revolution that has completely changed the way we create, record, produce, publish and distribute music as we know it. There are parts of that people may think are negative and some elements certainly are, but the net benefit is unquestionably positive even if only on the sole subject of accessibility. Accessible digital audio has put creation and power within reach of everyone and of-course this means there’s a glut of material available, but it also means we catch sight of more amazing art rather than never see it, or it not seeing the light of day. I lean on humans seeing it and saying that directly rather than speaking in abstract. The light of day is literally us - we humans, seeing the expressions of one-another and hopefully remunerating appropriately so that we can continue to live and improve each other’s lives.

I have always had and continue to have immense respect for BT. He began writing This Binary Universe when his daughter was born, and as she grew, continued working on the album with this tiny infant often in his lap as he worked. He wrote it from creation in 5.1 surround sound, rather than all other “surround sound mixes” being done in retrospect from the stereo stems. It is an astonishing work and See You On The Other Side may very well be one of the greatest pieces of music in history. When I first listened to TBU in 2006, I  had a myriad of emotional responses and I certainly didn’t have as much knowledge of BT’s creation process and background for the album at the time, but I can appreciate that shortly thereafter upon learning it, it probably does form biases in how I feel about the album. This will be important to the discussion later. Nevertheless, the album feels massively injected with specific intent and yes, surely every artistic work is regardless and we’ll get there. This is going to be personal but all writing is - that doesn’t warrant further discussion, we should always be making that assumption.

I follow BT on Instagram and saw him build his awesome new studio, an amazing space for all his gear and synths and something any music professional would love to have in some way... which I may check in a moment, or perhaps not so soon but I hope I don’t forget to come back to that. I will say that I do like it. It is a wonderful playground of vintage, rare and new synths, of super powerful computers with extremely new software and plugs, of high-end analogue desks and outboard units, extremely nice monitors and custom designed absorbers, panels, racks and furniture. It is an absolutely amazing space.

After the studio was finished, he did some collabs with some other artists and folks, some of which I also follow on Instagram whose setups are wildly different so it was nice to see some cross-over. He also interspersed with increasing regularity work on his albums which included clips of 100+ piece orchestras and often DAW session captures of the stems and him working on them. It was all pretty cool and the tiny snippets he posted were rad.

In October 2019, I was travelling to visit family due to cancer treatment, something that’s been at the centre of my life for well over 18 months, and I have my first full listen-thru of Between Here And You on an early morning when the rest of the house is asleep. It’s pretty great, sonically I like it a lot. I don’t have the same response to TBU but I don’t expect to, I should give it a chance, but it still doesn’t elicit a really significant response in me. At this point it has to be said that on the same trip, I have my first full listen-thru of Telefon Tel Aviv’s Dreams Are Not Enough, having slept on its initial September release, and that might be enough to give context to how I responded - it may have been where my head was at and remains to this day. I couldn’t shake it tho, as I still really have an affinity for TBU and I was wondering what was up.

Fast-forward to December and the release of Everything You’re Searching For Is On The Other Side Of Fear, and I do not respond to this album at all. It has some decent BT synth and sample work in it that exhibits his amazing talent, but it’s cut with orchestral and choral music that to me is indistinct from any other contemporary material available on a Pandora channel playing similar genres. I hate the sound of myself being so critical of someone I admire so much, because for someone who can write bangin’ trance and intricately complicated micro-rhythms and sample-chopped music, someone who writes their own freaken’ software and who edits audio down to the sample because their attention to detail is so specific and demanding - for that same person to be so talented to also be able to write scores and choral vocal arrangements is immense. I’m sure it all means so much to BT and I’m so proud of him for creating what to him must be an amazing work. I’m not trying to say anything negative about the work itself...

But I just don’t respond to it. Almost all the other music I’ve been listening to over the last 10 years including very recently, feels like it’s been created in response to extremely personal experiences that haven’t all been great - singular or accumulations of events that have precipitated significant introspection, and the art that has resulted from it for me reflects it clearly. BT’s two albums feel like... a very fortunate and privileged guy who’s had a lot of time and opportunity to play with his gear, record it and release it. The title also sounds presumptuous as if to position that systemic poverty and oppression and struggle outside of ones’ control can be solved by the oppressed simply stopping being afraid and I border on hating it every time I read it... - and that sounds so horribly mean because it is, I don’t intend for it to be mean. I need to check my expectations and I need to respect that Brian is still doing what he wants to do and he doesn’t owe me anything, least of all in something as abstract as how something sounds and whether or not I like it, because ultimately that’s all I’m talking about here, no matter how obscure I want to make the discussion. The intent of the title, especially - I’m certain - isn’t to diminish those who suffer, and I should be careful in my reading of it. So keeping myself in check, I’m here to explore the rest of my response, and I’m going to try and give further context.

Coldplay

I’ve no problem telling you I like Coldplay. I guess if you knew more about my musical background, it’d be less of a surprise, tho if you’ve been following along, it’ll make sense. If you’re reading this journal backwards, it may or may not, depending on how much I write about production in the future. To cut a long story short, like many bands I’m almost not at all into the band themselves and almost entirely into the production that surrounds them. Meow meow meow, all the art purists will bang-on about how music is about the performers but producers and engineers are artists in every way as much as performers are, and even bands or individuals who “just perform” with their instrument and no-one else on stage and no technicals (screens, lights, unseen backing musos etc.) still have a myriad of people surrounding them without which they can’t execute their working careers. Anyway, feel free to remain ignorant of those facts if you like and be all “pure performers”, no problem - magic can be real for you.

I lost track of Coldplay at after their 2015 album A Head Full Of Dreams. I’m less emotionally invested in the band and totally don’t mind that they’d up until that point releasing more or less the same sound for four consecutive albums. I really like the sound and if you pay close enough attention, it was actually evolving nicely, enough for me at any rate. I’d forgotten all about the band which is easy to do when you don’t really pay attention to pop-music and the activities therein, and then a couple of months ago (January maybe?) by whatever divination of the YouTube algorithm, a video titled Coldplay: Everyday Life Live in Jordan came up in my recommendations - a thing I was until then, unaware even existed. I’d no idea what the band was doing and I’m always keen to give them a shot, so I clicked-thru.

Moments ago I said I was happy with the band doing the same sound over and over again, and when I listen back to those albums, I’m still fine with them - let’s call it the Viva/Prospekt’s/Dreams anthology. Several things struck me about Everyday Life. Given my personal experiences of the last ten years, my struggles and the struggles of everyone around me, both personal and the cultures I observe and choose to observe, watching these four guys geared up in these ruins in Jordan looked stupendously privileged and a massive flex of wealth and influence. It looked like money buying good photography, framing and impossible location kudos and style. The sound in culture to my personal experiences also felt irrelevant.

And now I can finally talk about

The 1975 - Reaching Out, Reaching In

I now don’t remember whether it was at the ABIIOR concert in Melbourne, September 2019, or in one of the many interview snippets on YouTube or an article - I’m fairly sure it was his voice, so I either saw him say it in a video or he said it at the concert or both. Matt Healy said something along the lines of...

“... I know our last album was very inwardly focused... but A Brief Inquiry is very outwardly focused... it’s more about the world... and you... and us...”

That is not at all what he said verbatim but it was something very similar to that so I desperately hope a 1975 fan drops in and corrects me or can find a clip of him repeating it. Anyway there are a lot of really good things to extract from that, firstly from what it means about The 1975′s music and the culture that forms around it, and then about the discussion I’m having.

BT, Coldplay and The 1975 all live in my Ultimate folder on my hard-drive,  but while BT and Coldplay fall where they will alpha-numerically as far as directory structure is concerned, The 1975 have the auspicious honour of having leading zeros in their text so they appear first. This is so that I never have to scroll all the way down to T in any program or utility (like my car’s head unit) to find them. Worth noting that composer Yoko Kanno is 01 and Underworld are 02.

The album that preceded A Brief Inquiry... was released in 2016, titled I Like It When You Sleep, For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware Of It, an intentionally Emo title, I believe or at least hope, and it is definitely an inwardly focused album in the themes indicated by its lyrical content. It’s to date one of my favourite albums of all time, superbly performed and produced and overflowing with emotion - there’s some truly heartbreaking sound and words therein. I feel like this album is a perfect inclusion with the others in my Circa 2009 - 2019 piece that was somehow vaguely about how much of a struggle those 10 years have been. I guess it’d be difficult to get a notion of that if you’re not familiar with the music and material, but all of that music is introspective - it’s all about reaching in. As mentioned above, the art these artists are producing is the result of deeply intimate experiences, some they share directly with us outside of the abstract of art - relationships, family loss, drug addiction, mental health - but many that they don’t so clearly telegraph and leave us with the abstract; the art.

A Brief Inquiry.../ABIIOR certainly is about reaching out, even when the lyrics do seem to be personal, but to me as an individual, it feels to reach out in the right way - that is to say *I* feel it’s reaching out to a world *I* identify with, in a way that *I* agree with or find agreeable. The songs in ABIIOR are about misunderstanding, they’re about not giving up, making mistakes, desperation, honesty, the chaos of the destruction of modern society. One of my all-time favourite songs has sprung from this album and has become anthemic for me - Love It If We Made It and I’m going to embed it;

And now I feel I want to say that naming an album “Everything You’re Searching For Is On The Other Side Of Fear” and also performing a concert in ancient ruins on the top of a mountain during a picturesque sunrise in Jordan with expensive drone photography both feel to me like also reaching out but in ways that I don’t like and agree with, that feel irrelevant and/or culturally inappropriate but I use the term culturally to mean my personal culture; the culture I see myself fit into as an individual that interacts with others, the struggles we seem to share as a collective.

I feel as tho Coldplay once did reach out in the good way I’m trying and possibly failing to describe, or perhaps just trying to frame from a position I prefer. I felt they had a more grounded sense of community with everyday people which makes the irony of their most recent project more apparent. It may well be that I just don’t like what these artists are doing any more and that’s fine. Sometimes we might feel entitled to a sense of righteousness, to validate our distaste for something on a more grand cultural level, to co-opt others into our critique so more fingers can point and collectively say “See?! That thing you’re doing really *is* BAD! More people said so!” but I really am keeping myself in check and not wanting to do that. I think I’m writing this journal to explain myself to myself - yes, to log my justifications because I believe in them, but also ensure I don’t turn into an arsehole. 

Still - I stand by my criticisms because they’re important. I don’t know why in-particular these few examples struck in this way when others didn’t. I bought a bunch of Anjuna music that has nothing to do with culture and emotional response in the ways I’ve discussed them and I love them. Sometimes music is about bangin’ beats and euphoria and that’s OK. Still, the world isn’t entirely a joyous place for me at the moment and hasn’t been. There are positives to celebrate, but I have never been one to only log my celebrations. In particular from a mental health perspective, only documenting positives is incredibly hazardous and I condemn the practice. As much as these entries are laced with darkness and difficulties, each one also contains the things that assist me in surviving, keeping me nourished and navigating this often hellish experience of life. Ultimately of all my skills, seeking out art I identify with is the most valuable survival skill I have, it is the only one that matters. 

Love is a kind of art, there’s nothing abstract in that statement - the love between people is artful, in any and all forms it takes - hence the tags; Art Worth Dying For, and Art Worth Living For.

[henrytcasey]

The Night Trashy Tim Tapped

OH! THAT-CHERRR IS GARRRRBAGE! OH! THAT-CHERRR IS GARRRRBAGE!

As the Evolve Champion, Timothy Thatcher was the purest villain in professional wrestling. And because of what pro wrestling has become, the crowd gave him the exact reaction that a heel should want: abject and sincere hatred. And it freaks some people out.

Some have told me they’re surprised about how much the Evolve crowd hated Thatcher. Getting boos is one thing, but the unanimous lack of respect inspired by this muscular Californian demonstrates that he works on another level. Sure, he got elevated to the title soon after he joined Evolve and held the title for longer than some might like, but there’s more happening here.

We live in a time of mixed heat, where fans appreciate Brock Lesnar’s freak physique, abiding mystery and overall singularity. Kevin Owens gets applause for his time spent on the independent circuit, his cool moveset and mastery of the microphone. Even when Seth Rollins is a heel, fans are in awe over his flippy shit.

Even the independent scene is filled with Cool Bad Guys. On paper, the Young Bucks, Adam Cole, and Cody (all members of The We’re So Cool Bullet Club) are baddies. Yet none of them get treated as the villains by anyone, even in Japan, the land of fans supposedly rooting and booing by the numbers. They get the chants of “Too Sweet!” Fans want to do the Wolfpac Salute (also called the “Too Sweet!”) with them. Their superkicks cause riots. And unless they’re booked to be the good guys, it makes for really messy stories, or a lack thereof.

In a way, Thatcher works above all of those prominent wrestlers because he does nothing exciting. He only provides a convincingly brutal but incredibly dry in-ring style, to a point where I can’t say more than that.

Thatcher doesn’t do social media or meet & greet merch sales either. His character, if you could call it that, is in absentia.

Thatcher gives the Evolve audience so little (beyond his straightforward, no-frills, no-fun, almost San Antonio Spurs-ian style of wrestling), that I can’t help but over-analyze what he does offer.

His only accoutrement, until recently at least, was the phrase Ring Kampf on his gear. Kampf loosely translates to Fight, but since Ring Fight doesn’t really say much, the gear provides more obfuscation of his character.

Someone looking to make conclusions where they are not might remember that Kampf is one of the two words in the title of Hitler’s book Mein Kampf, so that might mean something. It doesn’t, or at least not like that. Ring Kampf is a faction of a bunch of German wrestlers plus Thatcher, and they all have a look reminiscent of … yeah.

So because Thatcher’s style is so minimalist, in an era where fans are used to heels with more characteristics, Evolve turned up the heat by pairing him with Stokely Hathaway. Hathaway, who needed a new client after he managed the now-reviled TJ Perkins until TJP made it to the WWE main roster.

Perkins, by the way, is a clear example of how a character will fail if they straddle the line between hero and villain sloppily. Sure, he does flippy moves, loves video games, and fights bullies, but he’s smug and egotistic. Further, some hate him for his history of tweeting Men’s Rights Activist ideologies.

Hathaway, though, adds delusions of grandeur to the screen when Thatcher appears. We know to boo the daylights out of Stokely, but we also respect his facial expressions and his ability on the microphone. During his time with Thatcher, he kept bringing up his client’s epic reign, which was 596 days-long when Evolve 79 began. It didn’t see day 597.

Thatcher went into the weekend of Evolve 78 & 79 (Feb. 24 & 25) with two scheduled title defenses: Fred Yehi at 78 at Joppa, MD, and Zack Sabre Jr. at 79 at Queens, NY. But unfortunately, the former was already doomed.

Evolve pre-announced that Evolve 79 would feature a match where the loser of Thatcher / Yehi would fight in a Four-Way Freestyle match featuring Chris Dickinson, Anthony Henry, and Austin Theory.

While he’s one half of the Evolve Tag Team Champions, Yehi made so much sense for this match, especially with his experience fighting some of those guys in other promotions. Further, Thatcher just sounded wrong for a match comprised of guys so farther down on the card than he, the Evolve champion.

Yehi’s loss didn’t suggest Sabre Jr. would win, but it was frustrating. Yehi, who is introduced as “angry, pissed off, and short” is amazing in the ring, mixing submissions, unexpected strikes and a manic energy together. Watching his match and being sure he had no chance was unengaging. Dude could also benefit more from a title win than Zack Sabre Jr., as the Brit is one of the most-well-known independent wrestlers today.

Not only is Zack Sabre Jr. the Pro Wrestling Guerilla champ, but his notoriety rose with the WWE Cruiserweight Classic last summer. He went in as an established name, and one of the few at that, and left with more fame than before.

But while Thatcher / Zack Sabre Jr. is a big match because of ZSJ’s star power, I went in expecting him to lose. Death, Taxes and Tim Thatcher’s reign, I thought, were sacrosanct. Wouldn’t you want Thatcher’s reign to end at an Evolve event during the big, upcoming WrestleMania weekend series of shows?

So, you know the quoted chant that I led this piece with? That chant, which might have been made by the fans on the spot, was sung in the key of “Oh, Zack Sabre Juuuuunior!” And of course, that’s sung in the style of The White Stripes song “Seven Nation Army,” an insanely popular song in sports arenas across the world and in ZSJ’s home country.

That chant spun out of the standard “That! cher’s! Garbage!” chant that follows Tim everywhere. Is the chant what spawned the nickname name Trashy Tim, or was it the other way around? Is calling Thatcher garbage a derision of his plainness, or a sign of respect for how pure his villainy is? I like to hope it’s the latter. That in a time where too many blur the lines, Thatcher is the one true evil.

That might not be it, though. Thatcher as the dry, dominant champ doesn’t always work, though. When I saw him in person for the first time, defending his title against Drew Gulak at Evolve 67, the crowd sort of died around him.

Maybe the gymnasium they were performing in was too muggy, as we were all drenched with our own salty sweat. Knife-edge chops against chests resulted in mid-air splashes.

Maybe the crowd was too wiped from one hell of a show, which included a great matches such as Tommy End vs Matt Riddle, Chris Hero vs Cody, and Cedric Alexander vs Zack Sabre Jr..

No matter why that match fell apart (maybe Gulak and Thatcher are too similar in their grappling style) maybe experiences like it created the hate from the fans. Creating the sense that Thatcher is bland and that bland isn’t worth it.

Fortunately, Sabre Jr. and Thatcher built and delivered a solid match for the crowd at Evolve 79 in La Boom and those watching at home. The match blended speedy and powerful strikes with signature submissions just right, and the crowd took to it. The tension of Thatcher retaining sparked the fire of that chant, which the crowd volleyed back and forth with its inspirer:

OH! THAT-CHERRR IS GARRRRBAGE! OH! ZACK-SABERR JUUUU-NNNIOR! OH! THAT-CHERRR IS GARRRRBAGE! OH! ZACK-SABERR JUUUU-NNNIOR! OH! THAT-CHERRR IS GARRRRBAGE! OH! ZACK-SABERR JUUUU-NNNIOR!

The chants filled the room and took the moment to another level. Almost to that point of John Cena vs CM Punk at Money in the Bank 2011. Not that high up, but close.

And then when Thatcher eventually tapped out to Sabre Jr.’s laboriously-long-titled submission (Hurrah! Another Year, Surely This One Will Be Better Than The Last; The Inexorable March of Progress Will Lead Us All to Happiness), I didn’t buy it.

I kept asking the people around me how it would be reversed. But Thatcher tapped, his time was over.

The crowd was apoplectic when Thatcher tapped out. Not just because this was something they wanted and may not have expected, but because Stokely Hathaway was having a nervous breakdown in the aftermath. Stokely clutched the title tight, and tried to refuse Thatcher taking it from him, to give to Sabre Jr.

The moment was pure delirium for more than just the crowd and the end of Tim’s reign. I was over-the-moon happy for ZSJ on a personal level. Repeated encounters I’d had with the guy left a very positive impression upon me, but he grew even higher in my opinion by taking a humane political stance.

In the aftermath of Shitbird President Trump’s xenophobic executive order against immigrants, Sabre Jr. released a shirt for sale that reads “This Wrestler Armbars Facists”) and gave all of his proceeds ($2,400 as of March 1) to the ACLU. I bought one immediately, and felt an even stronger bond with the Brit.

After winning the title, Sabre Jr. took the mic and declared (somewhat randomly) that pro wrestling should be a place for everyone. It was of course a good thing to say and a nice high-note to end the night on, but it took our focus away from the title change from Thatcher to ZSJ. Also, the placement of that line, between the finish and the setup for future matches with other wrestlers, took away.

As trashy as Timothy Thatcher may be, he’s no bigot, and neither is anyone in Evolve, so it rang a little oddly, ricocheting off the walls at zany angles, not raising the room to a higher plateau. The fervor of the room stayed at this level, though. That was the boiling energy of the end of Thatcher as champ. That the people would no longer be cursed by his plainness.

What Evolve does next with Thatcher is unclear, but it certainly ended on a fantastic moment. The title change also sets up a big-time main event for WrestleMania weekend, with ZSJ going up against fellow fan-favorite ACH. It’s also an interesting friend vs. friend match, as the end of Evolve 77 showed the bond between them and Chris Hero, who addressed ACH as “Albert.”

ZSJ also plans to fight in New Japan this year, which makes him an even more valuable champ for Evolve. He can bring the title to the east and give Evolve that prestige by successfully defending it there.

And as much as I will gripe that it shoulda been Yehi, he didn’t leave La Boom empty handed, but with a feud against the white-hot Matthew Riddle. A feud that could lead to Yehi being back in contention for the Evolve title.

A Yehi win would have also been explosive, but that’s the great thing about a truly detestable villain: you don’t always need the right hero to topple them.

[junker-town]

5 reasons why the 2018 U.S. Open could be one of the best ever

From America’s best venue to a Tiger-led field, the 2018 U.S. Open has the ingredients to be a classic you should watch. Here are five of them.

Despite its well-earned prestige as our national championship, the U.S. Open is not the most exciting major in golf. It delivers far less than the Masters and can’t compete with the run that the British Open is on over the last decade. There have been plenty of legendary winners and unforgettable Sundays with dramatic finishes. It’s a great championship but it also misses more than those other two. Sometimes we get random champions. Sometimes we get blowouts. Sometimes the golf is just a boring slog full of pars that don’t end up being fun to watch.

This week should not be one of those. After a few months of being told 2018 was the “most anticipated Masters ever,” we’re set up again at the U.S. Open. It’s not overhype, but just the way things have fallen in 2018. There are a few common elements between that pre-Masters excitement and this U.S. Open, and a few unique reasons why you should be in a manic Monster-fueled state of anticipation for this second major. Here are five.

Tiger Woods can contend in his first U.S. Open start in three years

We have hit the “toughest test in golf” mile-marker in what is Tiger Woods’ attempt at his first full healthy season since 2013. It’s been three years since Tiger played the U.S. Open, which is boilerplate now for every event he’s started this season since Torrey Pines. That last start at Chambers Bay was arguably his most embarrassing major.

He missed the 2015 cut by miles and the lasting images are Tiger’s club flying through the air after a hopeless hack from some knee-high fescue, and a cold top ground ball he hit in the 18th fairway. It was the kind of shot a hack chop hits at the muni on the weekend when he thinks he can pull off some hero shot with a fairway wood off the deck. Tiger’s top dribbled into the ”Chambers basement,” a deep bunker in the middle of the fairway and resulted in this memorable bit of symbolism.

Time to check in on how Tiger Woods's round is going: pic.twitter.com/VjVW4F0mZW

— Deadspin (@Deadspin) June 19, 2015

The U.S. Open seems like the last place Tiger would break through for his first win in five years. It asks every kind of question of every part of your game and you don’t just show up with only a few months of real competition and win it.

But Tiger is in a better place than, I think, anyone could have imagined just six months into the year. That place may not mean he’ll win this week, or this year, or maybe ever again. He’s got a better chance than we all expected, however, and it’s within a realm of possibility that did not exist three years ago at Chambers Bay or in the intervening two years of trouble getting out of bed.

Tiger is back to striking the ball at not just a competitive level, but an elite PGA Tour-winning level. He had one round in his last start that resulted in the second-best strokes gained tee-to-green mark of his entire career. His short game has shown no signs of that horrendous chipping yips spell that he now says was a result of the nerve pain in his back. In fact, his chipping and wedges are now a strength of his game. The point is: if he’s playing like this tee-to-green, he has a chance to compete and contend at this venue, which seemed unlikely a few months ago.

The putter is the club, based on recent form, that could send him home early or have him playing meaningless rounds on the weekend. His putting stats in his last start were some of the worst of his career. But the putter is one club, one area of the game that can come back the fastest. You can putt like trash one day, and find a heater the next. A bad putter usually stays a bad putter over time, but it’s easier to shake off and catch fire for a round or two. Tiger is also not a historically bad putter. He’s one of the best of all time, just putting poorly in two of his last three starts. It can come around quickly, as it did at The Players. The ballstriking seems to be reliably there for Tiger, so if the putting switch does flip, we’re in for a show all weekend.

Even if his putting stinks again, the way he’s hitting the ball will be fantastic to watch at a shotmaking test like this. It never seemed like we could anticipate that again, and certainly not at a U.S. Open at this specific venue. We should actually expect it this week.

The best major venue in the United States

Shinnecock Hills is unanimously revered as one of the very best golf courses in the world, and you’ll see plenty of arguments this week that it is the top major championship venue this country has to offer (including Augusta National). There are several brilliant pieces outlining its architectural perfection, but I will pull one from course design expert Andy Johnson that I found particularly illuminating (you should read his entire course breakdown here).

Playing Shinnecock is like stepping into the ring against Floyd Mayweather. The course doesn’t rely on singular holes to deliver knockout punches but rather lies in wait for tactical mistakes ready to punish them.

The course will look pretty on TV, present of bunch of different challenging shots and trajectories that will be fun to watch, and when a player starts to feel himself too much, it will deliver the US Open ejection that we love to rubberneck. There’s no one specific hole that would stick out for an untrained TV viewer, like an island green or a some scenic seaside shot vista. It’s monotonous only in its perfection from 1 through 18, as each hole is worth watching for its own challenge and display of the best kind of architecture from the game’s past.

After some non-traditional venues in recent years, we’re back to an old friend and one that many consider to be the ideal U.S. Open spot. Golf Channel’s Brandel Chamblee even argued Shinny could host every year and it would make perfect sense.

This is as good as it gets and the only critique I’d have of the venue is that it’s an uber-exclusive club dropped in the Hamptons, a summer playground for the extremely wealthy. While it did immediately allow women members from its foundations in the 1890s, it is an appropriate if unfortunate reminder of how golf is structured in this country. Whereas the British Open’s ideal venue, St. Andrews, encompasses the open public park nature of so many of the best courses across the pond, the exclusivity of Shinnecock encompasses how the best courses in this country are walled off and inaccessible. That matters less for watching the best in the world take it on this week, so take it in because we don’t get this caliber of venue every year.

The USGA as heel

One of my favorite annual traditions is course setup drama at the U.S. Open. The grumbling, screaming, whining, yelling — it’s all quite fun if you’re an outside observer. The last time the U.S. Open came to Shinnecock Hills, the course setup delivered one of the great farces in major championship history. The embarrassment of watering Shinny’s 7th green in between groups so it was playable is one of the lowest points in USGA history and major championship history.

There are no teams to root for and against in golf. You can pick a favorite guy and back him, but there’s rarely a villain. The USGA, whether it wants to or not, is one of the few weeks we have a heel. It’s not fair, usually, but it’s just become a fact of this championship. They take a beating no matter what from a) the players, who show up ready to pounce on any little thing they feel is abnormal or is considered USGA excessiveness and b) the media, who want drama (hi it’s me!) and angry players and things they could rip the USGA for in their #content.

There’s been ample fodder in recent years, too, from losing the greens at Chambers Bay to grumbles about a tricked up Merion to the infamous DJ Oakmont ruling to the perception that last year’s Erin Hills venue was too easy. And remember at Erin Hills, we started the week with hours of air time and thousands of words on how it might be too hard because of #fescuegate. We finished the week with people complaining that it was too easy and not a real U.S. Open because of a winning score of 16-under. So yeah, the bar to avoid critiques may be impossibly high for the USGA.

The USGA always likes to walk the tightrope but it’s truly going to be hard to screw up this year given the venue. The course is impeccable and the forecast looks pristine. This week they’re walking a tightrope that’s only a few feet off the ground. It’s still possible to fall awkwardly and snap your ankle, but it’s pretty safe working conditions comparatively.

So where could that awkward fall occur? A rules mishap is always in play, but even there we have new safeguards since the DJ catastrophe. Green speeds could get a little too fast and lead to some pins that are close to being over the line. But it’s going to be tough given all the technology agronomists and groundskeepers now have. We’re not getting a repeat of that 2004 mess at the 7th green, but I’m sure the players, media, and fans will find something to grumble about before Sunday night. It’s a great U.S. Open tradition!

FOX is actually good btw

If you’re still bathing in Greg Norman’s tears from the great 2015 FOX abomination, then you haven’t been paying attention to just how good FOX has become at broadcasting this championship. They got better at Oakmont, better again at Erin Hills, and are now given the opportunity of a Tiger-led field at the championship’s best venue.

FOX uses all the technology, but not in an intrusive or distracting way. You’ll get tracer on almost every shot, from both the tees and on approaches. They have, in my opinion, an incredible collection of talent that doesn’t make you want to mute the TV. Norman was quickly thrown back into the sea, the Shark free to swim off and take nude pictures of himself.

Paul Azinger says some insane things but always makes it sound like it’s the most brilliant turn of phrase or nugget of wisdom you have ever heard. He is as entertaining and as good as we have in the lead analyst chair. He’s paired up with Joe Buck, rotating every couple hours with another separate and distinct two-man booth of Shane Bacon and Brad Faxon. All four are good and easy listens. Curtis Strange is the kind of old-school redass you want on the call of a U.S. Open. Ken Brown’s “Brownie points” segments actually make you smarter, as opposed to most of the pre-produced fluff crowbarred into golf broadcasts. And Gil Hanse is a pro and exactly the kind of architectural voice you want to sprinkle in at a Golden Age design like this.

We’re in an era when the coverage and presentation can so dramatically alter how you view a tournament of this magnitude. Fox has an awesome opportunity with this 2018 edition and we should be in good hands.

Philip Alfred

Phil Mickelson is doing extremely Phil Mickelson things this week, like hiding away at another ultra-exclusive Hamptons club to practice alongside a heavyweight businessman/country club legend and Tom Brady. But even if he’s out of view, Phil will forever be a story at the U.S. Open, the white whale of his career. With six runner-up finishes, there are plenty of options to choose from, but his runner-up here in 2004 may have been the most unfortunate miss. There was a screwjob element to it with the course setup and the 7th hole.

Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

Phil Mickelson chats with his caddie Jim MacKay on the seventh tee during the final round of the 104th U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills Golf Club on June 20, 2004.

Now he’s back, and while he’s not a favorite like in so many years prior, he’s playing better golf this season and snapped a five-year winless drought. I remember sitting in front of Phil two years ago when he was asked about completing the career slam. “I could BS you and tell you I don’t think about it,” he said “No, I think about it all the time.”

There aren’t many chances left for Phil and after skipping last year, he’s back at a venue where he posted one of those six runners-up. He’s not a favorite, but he’s still an underdog contender to become the sixth player in the history of the game to complete the career slam. It’s Phil and the U.S. Open and you’ll want to watch when he comes back out of hiding on Thursday morning.