By Bob Markus

This is how cynical we've all become: When golfer Brian Davis called a two-stroke penalty on himself on the first hole of a sudden death playoff Sunday there were fans calling into talk shows scoffing at the notion the Englishman had any credit coming to him for his act of sportsmanship. "He might have been worried that someone taping the tournament at home had spotted the infraction and would report it to the USGA," was one caller's suggestion. If that would have happened and Davis had signed an incorrect score card, he would have been disqualified and, instead of the $615, 600 he earned as runner-up to winner Jim Furyk, would have gone home with nothing but a ruined reputation.

That is possible. In today's world of ubiquitous electronic devices, not only is Big Brother watching us, but a whole bunch of nieces, nephews, and total strangers, too. But Davis would have had to be mighty quick-witted to instantly run through his options and come up with the honorable solution. Having birdied the 72d hole to tie Furyk for the lead, Davis had hit a horrid second shot from just about the same distance he had nailed a six iron to within 15 feet moments earlier. The ball landed in a rock-studded ravine and, although marginally playable, was sitting in a nest of vegetation--grass, twigs, reeds, you name it. By the rules of golf, Davis was not permitted to ground his club nor clear away any of the impediments before striking the ball.

Clearly, he was in trouble. Furyk was sitting two putts away from a routine par, so Davis likely would have to get the ball up and down in two strokes to prolong the playoff. The CBS announcers were speculating that he might be better off taking a penalty for an unplayable lie and hoping to chip in for his par. Instead, Davis went for it and hit an amazing shot that found the putting surface, although he would have had to drain a lengthy putt--or hoped Furyk would three putt--to halve the hole. It would have been a slim chance, but at least it would have been a chance. As it turned out, Furyk never had to use his putter. Davis had barely completed his follow through when he called for a tour official and reported that he thought he might have touched a blade of grass on his back swing. After watching the replay several times, the official ruled that Davis, indeed, had touched a tiny reed as he drew his wedge back. The reed barely moved before settling back in place and the ball didn't move at all. It's highly unlikely a viewer at home would have caught the slight motion without the benefit of a replay. Davis could have kept quiet and possibly have recorded his first Tour victory.

But golfers are taught to follow the rules of golf and most of them do so, without question and without fail. Sometimes golfers cheat whether it be overtly or accidentally. Both Vijay Singh and Colin Montgomerie have been accused of cheating at some point in their careers. Both have denied it. Golf is supposed to be a self policing sport. From their first lesson, whether it be by a golf pro or a friend or relative, golfers are taught to revere the game and respect its rules. Most of us try and most of us fail. In my regular foursome there is one of us who concedes himself five foot putts if he has already taken two or three. Another one frequently forgets penalty strokes. I admit I don't count whiffs if nobody is watching, although I do count them in a sand trap, providing I at least take some sand. I'm not proud of it, but there you are.

Golf is a beautiful game and part of its beauty lies in its adherence to an ethical code that is not present in other sports. Baseball players do not tell the umpire they trapped that sinking liner and basketball players don't tell the referee they stepped in front of their opponent in order to draw a charge. Football players don't tell the officials they stepped on the out of bounds line before coming back to make a catch. Even boxers will climb the ring ropes and throw both arms in the air--the universal victory gesture--in a futile attempt to influence a decision that has already been rendered. Some call-in fans have wondered why Davis is being commended for doing what the rules and mores of the game require. To them my suggestion is: take $410, 400 (the difference between first and second place money in the Heritage Classic) out of the bank and give it to your next door neighbor. Then maybe you will start to understand.