Posted by: Mitch Juricich
Thursday, June 21, 2012 at 9:38 AM
If I was challenged, as a native San Franciscan (19th & Noe), to pick one word that best describes my home city I would probably consider; beautiful, charming, alluring or even mystical. In the end I think the word would be tolerant.
You see, our little corner of the marble can put up with just about anything. We are culturally diverse and politically scattered. Even though we have mild summers and winters and no big bugs flying around, we also know that the very ground we trod will rock and roll once in a while, and we have no problem with that. We accept it. And as the #1 tourist city in the world, heck, we really don’t mind if you do wear a flower in your hair when you visit. We put up with just about anything.
But this past week the word I would choose would have to be, ‘perfect’. Humbly I submit that my fair City is pretty damn good most of the time, but this week with the shroud of the US Open, it was off the charts.
The weather was perfect. The course set-up was perfect. The greens were perfect. The blimp shots (oh the blimp shots!) were straight from heaven. And the burgers on a hot dog bun….please.
But perhaps above all else, The Olympic Club was dead solid perfect. And why wouldn’t it be?
The Olympic Club is unlike any private club I have ever encountered, largely, in my opinion, because their membership shares the very diversity of the city in which it resides. My insurance agent is a member and so is the guy who painted my house. The guy who did some electrical work for me belongs there as well as the guy who performed knee replacement on me. The Olympic Club Foundation has raised millions of dollars over the years for local youth sports, largely targeted at inner city and underprivileged areas. This is a great club that gives back and does great things, including putting on a US Open for all of us to enjoy while their members are shut out of playing their own course. Even the media chairman wasn’t half bad.
Yeah, this week was perfect; perfect city, club, course conditions, weather, even the winner. Webb Simpson fits right in with the other winners at Olympic since he wasn’t the guy who was supposed to win, was he?“Bird Man” notwithstanding (only in San Francisco -but he was kind of cute, by the way) the whole thing was Matt Cain-like, wasn’t it? Yeah, flawed and goofy as we may seem to some, we can even handle perfection.