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By Bill Contz
For the Mirror
Rock troubadour Bruce Springsteen recently agreed to part company with his entire music catalog for a cool $500 million.
Not bad for an artist whose career was deemed on life support due to lackluster sales from his first two albums prior to authoring "Born To Run," an ode to the utter restlessness of his generation.
That tune, as well as many other compositions from The Boss, are no doubt headed to a television commercial or streaming service near you very soon.
Based on fan reaction to the two hole-in-ones at this year's Waste Management Open, the PGA should enter into negotiations with another 1970s artist, James Taylor, for the rights to his song "Shower The People"| since it's simply a matter of time before tour execs insist upon marrying the footage from the tournament to the chorus from Taylor's song to reverse the ratings death spiral they find themselves in trying to navigate their product in this post-Tiger Woods era.
For those who missed it, sun-drenched bleacher bums attending The Greatest Show On Grass turned TPC Scottsdale's 16th hole into a major league baseball clubhouse after a World Series win, showering each other in suds while treating the golf course like one giant recycle bin.
Journeymen Sam Ryder and Carlos Ortiz each notched aces at a venue completely surrounded by a grandstand that resembles a miniature Roman Coliseum.
The main difference, of course, being the golf spectators dousing themselves in hops and barley then lobbing half-empty aluminum containers onto the impeccably manicured putting surface versus toga-clad onlookers cheering for or against gladiators about to be mauled by lions.
I can't find fault with Waste Management fans for what purists would consider to be boorish behavior.
If hockey enthusiasts can toss various headwear on the ice after a player records a hat trick and baseball fans can toss a visiting player's home run ball back onto the field of play then why can't these golf fans have some fun too?
It should surprise no one that the PGA schedules the final round of this tournament to coincide with our country's other greatest single sports spectacle, the Super Bowl.
Both events take place a week removed from the Pebble Beach Pro-Am, where CBS makes sure to offset the picturesque views of the Pacific against actor Bill Murray's clown act to relax, at least temporarily, the tour's otherwise conservative, stodgy image.
Other than the occasional "you da man" outburst that's offered up the instant some late-round tournament leader launches his tee shot into the ozone, golf fans are largely limited to polite clapping and cheering all the while fearing repercussion from legions of khaki-clad tournament volunteers wielding wooden swords bearing the words "Quiet Please."
In the unlikely event a spectator is ever struck by a wayward shot, the best they can hope for is a quick handshake and apology from the assailant along with (if they're lucky) an autographed golf glove.
The marriage of music and marketing has always proven to be an effective approach, one that has a profound impact on our spending habits.
If James Taylor decides to play hardball with the PGA, maybe they can track down Def Leppard front man Joe Elliott to see if he and his bandmates would loan the "Pour Some Sugar On Me."
Contz was a starting offensive tackle on Penn State's first national championship team in 1982 and played six NFL seasons with New Orleans and Cleveland. He published a book in 2017, "When the Lions Roared: Joe Paterno and One of College Football's Greatest Teams." He resides in Pittsburgh.