Phil Mickelson is a Tricky Son of a Bitch

For those of you that know me, you would agree that golf is an intricate part of my life and everything that I hold dear to my heart. I take this sport more serious than any of the other "major" sports seen on television, and therefore have my "favorite players", just as you may have your favorite quarterback or pitcher. In addition, I also have a few players that I completely hate for no reason other than the fact that they play the game poorly.

However, my golf-loving world has just been turned upside-down. Why? Because my favorite golfer to hate, Phil Mickelson, just threw me a curve ball.

You see... Phil Mickelson is probably one of the most hated professional golfers on the PGA Tour among his fellow competitors. While he has always been a fan favorite because of his nonsensical wedge shots around trees and off of cart paths, he has gone on record as being completely unprofessional, rude, and abrasive to other players on tour and especially the media. He is a man that will forever live in Tiger Woods' shadow despite honestly believing the he, Fat Phil, is the better player. Sure, he has had some success as the World #2, but there isn't a tournament on the calendar that Phil can't find a way to lose due to an errant driver. His caddie, Bones, is constantly on suicide watch as his percentage of Phil's winnings gets lower... and lower... and lower with each bounce of the ball down a ravine.

But now I can't hate Phil Mickelson. And you can't either.

Why? Because Phil's wife, Amy, was just diagnosed with breast cancer... and now I feel sorry for the guy and his family.

Don't get me wrong: I truly have nothing against Phil. But I am sure Yankee fans have nothing against Red Sox Nation, and I am sure Michigan Wolverines and Ohio State Buckeyes can peacefully co-exist at the dinner table. That's not the point.

The point, friends, is that I am missing a very critical and important aspect of my PGA Tour fandom now due to this medical tragedy. I feel as if my entire enjoyment of watching golf is now empty because the villain in this story has been deleted. I don't want to look at Phil Mickelson and hope that he wins the US Open. I don't want to get teary-eyed when he talks about how much he loves his wife. I don't want any of that.

I want Amy Mickelson to beat this cancer, become 100% healthy and allow her husband to get back on the course making stupid decisions while I sip beer and eat popcorn.

So hear this, Phil and Amy: you go and beat that disease, and you beat it good. The golfing world is behind you, because we need Man-Boobs back on the course for good.