...The End of the Golf is A Long Way Off.

“And on the third day there will be rain and there will be lightening.” At 2.16pm play was suspended so that people can run for the hills at Oakland Hills, or start building arks, or simply huddle beneath umbrellas and pray. The sky has turned purple, storm clouds have turned day into night, thunder is rumbling, lightening crackling – and golf writers are cowering beneath their desks in the media center (sic). Either the end of the world is nigh or Hollywood is filming another opening scene for a Bram Stoker’s Dracula movie.
Rain is leaking through the aircraft hanger and one poor chap from CBS Sports is in for a shock when he returns to his workstation. Assuming he hasnn’t been washed away in the Biblical storm raging outside. His laptop is directly under a waterfall. But his neighbour is far too busy saving his own hide, and scrambling to pack away his own gear, to care about Good Samaritan stories. “I’m not touching somebody else’s computer,” he said after I yell at him to help out Absent CBS Sports Man. It’s not as if I just asked him to sleep with Mrs CBS Sports while her man was away on active duty. What’s his problem? Does he think the laptop is going to blow up? It’s every man (and woman) for themselves in here. There’s no solidarity in a crisis.
Panic-stricken PGA staff are handing out towels and, bizarrely plastic bags to put our laptops in. But if we do that, how are we supposed to type? I am tapping this report from beneath my desk as the water pitter-patters all around above my head. If some of the stories filing out of the US PGA Championship seem a little watery, please be patient. You now know why.