â†µThere's no pun or joke or anecdotal way to get into this: Mike Weir and Stephen Ames, Canada's two finest golfers, drink Michelob Ultra. Not Molson, not Labatts. Not even Michelob Light. Mich Ultra. The ten ounce beer favored by pre-anorexic women and overly self-conscious male gym rats. Somewhere in the cinematic universe, Bob and Doug McKenzie weep. "My brother and I used to say that drownin' in beer was like heaven, eh? Now he's not here, and I've got two soakers. ... This isn't heaven, this sucks."
â†µI witnessed the abomination during a 30-minute span yesterday hanging out in the lobby of the Sawgrass Marriott, the host hotel for this week's Players Championship. During that time Anthony Kim, winner of last week's Wachovia Championship, wandered through the lobby looking like a teenage kid whose parents locked him out of their room. I also saw Todd Hamilton lugging his own clubs up to his room. Apparently winning a British Open doesn't bring as much clout as it once did.
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