John Huggan: It's going Bradley wrong Published on Sunday 26 February 2012 02:36 Money-obsessed tour chiefs and selfish pros damage game's future PERHAPS because of their combined status as golf's "shop window," it isn't a question that is asked nearly often enough. But it is a legitimate query. Do the world's various professional circuits actually have the game's best interests at heart? Or do they exist simply as moneymaking machines for a talented yet arrogantly indifferent minority? Certainly, it was easy to be critical last week when Keegan Bradley crawled into contention for what used to be called the LA Open. There he was - the USPGA champion no less - playing at a pace that could only be described as "glacial" and all the while issuing forth a not-so-great fountain of expectorations. Every shot was preceded by a veritable wave of fluid flying out of his mouth. Attractive it was not. Just to make things worse, the 25-year old Bradley is a devotee of the belly putter, a technique/implement three-times major champion Ernie Els recently labelled "cheating." In terms of setting a good example to youngsters tempted to take up the greatest game, it was, all in all, something of an (im) perfect storm. And what was the PGA Tour's reaction to any and all of the nonsense going on at Riviera, one of American golf's most storied and interesting venues? Deafening silence. None of the above is, apparently, a problem for commissioner Tim Finchem, not as long as the television ratings are satisfactory, the sponsors are happy and the bozos in the crowd are allowed to yell: "Get in the hole." It's all about money, folks. To his credit, Bradley has subsequently apologised for his perpetual spitting, vowing to remedy what he called a "reflex." And he has already. At the Accenture World Match Play last week in Tucson he was something of a reformed character, at least when it came to the thoughtless and disgusting habit of depositing phlegm/saliva all over the course. His pace of play remains an issue, however, at least for those with some sort of feeling for the long-term future of golf. It would perhaps be best not to include the diminutive Finchem amongst that right-minded group. In the almost 18 years wee Timmy has been in charge of the world's biggest and most powerful tour, no one has ever been sanctioned for slow play. No one. Which is extraordinary on a circuit where barely-moving individuals such as Ben Crane, Jonathan Bird and Bradley - to name but three of a seemingly ever-growing band - ply their self-absorbed trades. Still, it would be wrong to single out the PGA Tour and Americans when it comes to slow play. The situation on the European Tour is little better. And it is the players, not the officials, who are most to blame. A few years ago, your correspondent was pressed into (for once) gainful employment as a caddie for Australian professional Mike Clayton in the Heineken Classic at Royal Melbourne. In Clayton's group was a notoriously slow player. For the sake of argument, let's call him Christian Cevaer. After only a few holes, we were already falling well behind the threesome in front, with Cevaer the obvious culprit. The Frenchman is someone who could take an hour and a half to watch 60 Minutes or spend five minutes boiling a three-minute egg. And soon enough a European Tour referee appeared, stopwatch in hand It was, oh-so ironically, a waste of time. As if by magic, Cevaer's previously endless pre-shot routine was transformed into a shorter version of the same. And, within a couple of holes, we were back in position. So the referee left, whereupon Cevaer reverted to type. To call it a cynical manipulation of the system is putting it mildly. For Cevaer, self-interest came well before any concerns he might have harboured for either his playing partners or the presumably bored spectators. The snail-like Frenchman is far from alone though. Former Masters champion Bernhard Langer famously employs two pre-shot routines: one for when he is "on the clock" and another when he is not. And that is an all-too common dodge, one that renders officials impotent. In fact, the only players who typically get fined for slow play are those who typically move relatively quickly. On the odd occasion when they do slip over the time limits those poor unfortunates just don't know how to use the system to their advantage. Another factor in the ever-slower pace of play is the ever-increasing "preciousness" of the professionals when it comes to what they see as distractions. Last week at Riviera, one eyewitness was driven to, oh yes, distraction by the antics of many competitors, all of whom seem perfectly capable of hitting shots on the range amidst all manner of disturbances and hubbub. "If there is a golfer playing within 100 yards, they must stop and wait for the shot to be played," he explains. So any tee close to a green means waiting. The sensitivity is quite aggravating. Alongside all this in-depth contemplation of who-knows-what before a swing can be made and a shot hit, the game itself continues to do itself no favours. Just a few days ago - yet again - an unfortunate player, Peter Whiteford, was disqualified for inadvertently and innocently falling foul of a situation where he neither sought nor gained any advantage whatsoever. The Fifer was, as is so often the case, the victim of small and petty-minded television viewers who called in to point out how his ball moved half an inch when he wasn't looking. For once though, the solution is simple. Anyone who contacts the European Tour to highlight pointless rules infractions should immediately have their names, addresses and phone numbers published on the tour website. They should also be made to move out of their mother's basements and find jobs involving direct and at least intermittent interaction with other members of the human race. Washing regularly and an occasional haircut would help too. In other words, these sad, sad people need a taste of their own foul-tasting medicine. Anyway, returning to the initial point of this rant, the various tours can't even be trusted to do what is best for each other and, by extension, the game itself. Take the PGA Tour's recent announcement that the much-pilloried Fed-Ex Cup is likely to become a year-long snooze instead of a relatively brief nap. This is classic Finchem. A move all to do with money and nothing to do with the long-term welfare of the sport which his organisation has hijacked in the relentless pursuit of filthy lucre. If and when the Fed-Ex money-grab extends into the latter part of the year, the chances of places like Australia and South Africa and Asia seeing the leading US players will become almost non-existent. Youngsters around the globe will be deprived of close-up views of their heroes. And, inevitably, kids who might have been tempted by golf will drift away from the sport. But none of that apparently bothers Finchem and his band of blue-blazered henchmen. They just don't care. For them, it's all about the cash and nothing but the cash, baby. The guy who first said golf is a "selfish game" really knew what he was on about.