Championship golf can be an exercise in cruelty.
Athletes in other sports have the luxury of unconsciousness. Even when they initiate the action, they spend much of their time in a state of unthinking reaction, relying on instincts honed by thousands of hours of practice.
They can often deal with nervousness or frustration or anxiety by hitting something or someone, sometimes harder than absolutely necessary.
Golfers live in a different world.
The performer stands alone, exposed, visible to his competitors and to the audience alike.
He has plenty of time to think about what he has done and what he needs to do. The physical action of swinging a club takes up less than two minutes of a four-hour round. The rest is walking, waiting, thinking, trying to maintain his internal equilibrium in the midst of a swirling drama playing out over a vast external canvas.
The results can be ugly.