On the Couch / On control and self-control: Why soccer needs rugby, and why we love golf

A different tack, then - by crossing lines to soccer's successor and adopting rugby's approach to the player-ref relationship so that players accept decisions in a way that allows the smooth functioning of the game.

	Tiger Woods during his final round of the British Open, July 18, 2010.
	Photo by: AP

In recent decades, soccer has tried its best to equip refs with a modicum of authority, encouraging them to brandish yellow and red cards in any and every need. Did the 14 plus one help poor Howard Webb establish his authority? Did it intimidate the Dutch, and the Spaniards too (albeit the excuse of "just" retaliating ) into toning down tackles or backing off from challenging Webb's generally flawless decisions.

Not at all, not for a second during that bad-tempered World Cup final, a travesty of "the beautiful game".

It's not difficult - two changes, in attitude and in rules, could accord a soccer ref the kind of absolute authority, and enforced respect from the players, that his rugby counterpart enjoys. And restore the dignity of the soccer referees:

* A yellow card automatically triggers a sin-binning, the miscreant spending 10 minutes off the pitch (of course, the ref has the right first to administer a verbal warning ).

* Any attempt to intimidate the ref in a bid to change his decision, or engage in wild antics in anticipation that such pressure may produce a wrong next decision, incurs an extra penalty: In rugby, even the mildest recrimination or backchat after the ref has awarded a free kick or penalty draws a 10 meter advance of the ball for the team that's been awarded the free-kick. It's an exciting spectacle, a 130 kg muscleman nodding meek approval after a lecture by a puny 1.60m tall ref. Now that's authority! A couple of incidents that put a Messi or a Ronaldo in a better scoring position would soon produce the desired results.

Contemplating how to make the rules work so that the game isn't spoiled by spoilt players was one way of keeping that dismal World Cup hangover at bay. Especially, with long days of the greatest single show in the sporting firmament - the British Open - requiring dedicated viewing.

Golf has its way of constantly telling us just how much top sports people need to get self-control to the top of their priorities. Only a short while back there was a most pleasing reminder of why the idea that we ref ourselves isn't so outlandish after all (okay, we're not going up that tree again ), and why we do so appreciate - love is too strong a word - golf.

A game with ample scope for cheating when you're playing yourself or your next door neighbor can equally provide plenty opportunities to call an infringement on oneself - even if the price is painful. That's why such high tributes were paid to journeyman golfer, Englishman Brian Davis, who called a penalty on himself and cost himself a maiden U.S. PGA Tour victory. Instead, Jim Furyk landed his second title in a month at Hilton Head Island, South Carolina.

The likeable Furyk's 15th career victory came in bizarre circumstances. Davis had forced a sudden-death playoff with a 72nd hole birdie. But, on the extra hole he found himself in trouble after hitting his second shot onto the beach, the ball coming to rest short. As Furyk stood over a five-foot par putt, Davis decided to play his ball where it lay rather than take a penalty drop. He chipped onto the green, but then conceded the match: The reason - his club had touched a loose impediment during the backswing, he said. Davis informed PGA Tour rules chief Slugger White, who after consulting with colleagues, determined a breach of Rule 13.4 and a two-shot penalty. Furyk was left with a simple putt for victory.

Davis said he hadn't actually felt his club brush the weeds, but added "there was a little branch, with one of the weed things sticking out, a big bunch. I didn't feel it, but I was pretty sure I'd seen something in the corner of my eye. So I asked for it to be checked on TV. Then it was clear that I did indeed brush it on the way back, and the twig moved slightly. So obviously it was a two-stroke penalty."

"To be in the battle and to have an opportunity to win, and then have to call a penalty on yourself has got to be extremely disappointing," said Furyk. "I admire him for what he did. It's a testament to our game that we have so many guys ready that do that." The PGA Tour also credited Davis for his honesty. "It will come back to him in spades, tenfold," said White. "Brian himself said, 'I couldn't have lived with myself if I hadn't called it on myself.' He's class, first class."

Remember his name

At St. Andrews, another first-class guy came out of the pack to grab our attention - and with a happier result, too. Who would have imagined Lodewicus Theodorus "Louis" Oosthuizen (remember the name since he's going to be around for some time ) could be an inspiration? But he was. And how!

The record of golf is a story littered with underdogs failing to take their chance when history beckoned. Many's been a young golfer (he's 27 ) who started at odds of 200/1, put in a brilliant couple of rounds and then faded dramatically as the top dogs clawed their way to the top. This time the favorites were intimidated, felled one by one by the whirling Scottish wind, tawny heather and giant greens. And the pressure. But little-known Louis (hardly little-known now after joining the exclusive list of winners at the home of golf ) was absolutely sure-footed in his striking of the ball, deadly with his putting, and oh so composed when all about were sure he would wilt under the pressure.

Plain Louis barely made a mistake all four days. Finally, in the last round, he did get into one bunker, thus failing to achieve what Tiger Woods had done five years ago - not once landed in any of the Old Course's mineshafts that masquerade as bunkers. No matter, if he goes on playing like this, there will be plenty further record-breaking opportunities.

One wonders if there will be for Tiger, though. True, Woods seemed to be enjoying himself even in adversity. At times, he actually chatted and joked with playing partner Darren Clarke. But these days, he cuts a rather forlorn, lonely, figure. One commentator dared say, "Dare we say an irrelevance."

Sidelined, he surely was. And top golf seems all the better for it - no longer beholden to whether Tiger is playing well or not, winning or not.

He could perhaps use Louis' mind man. Oosthuizen had missed the cut in three previous Open appearances and failed to qualify for other Majors. He has had difficulty maintaining concentration. Sachin Tendulkar, one of the greatest batsmen of all times, puts it simply, but perfectly, "The toughest thing is to clear your mind. The mind always wants to be in the past or in the future, it rarely wants to be in the present."

Louis Oosthuizen may not be the most elegantly spoken champion, but no one could possibly have failed to have been moved by his tribute to Nelson Mandela, who was celebrating his 92nd birthday on the same day. "Walking down the 18th fairway, I was thinking about him," Louis said, clutching the Old Claret Jug ("I'm not putting this down for anyone" ). He said he wasn't aware if Mandela was a fan of links golf. Now, he could well be.

While the man they call Shrek - for his toothy smile and slightly protruding ears - was working hard taming St. Andrews in the most genial manner, we indulged in the wonderful spectacle of it all. Veteran BBC commentator, Peter Allis, as ever, said it best: "I know that to some in this fast-moving world, this is a fuddy-duddy pursuit. But there's the beauty to admire, the wildlife to enjoy, the skill to savor, and an opportunity for excellent conversation, and even some silly conversation."

One could almost come to forget those shenanigans in Soccer City on World Cup final night.