- Written by
spencer096
- Posted March 15, 2010 at 5:00 pm

Usually in this space on Mondays, I like to list things.
However, there will be a departure this week in order to further wax eloquent regarding The Man. The man who named a mixture of iced tea and lemonade after himself…and nobody complained. The man who could (and should) wear a nametag around that says “Your Dad,” because he is. There’s a reason they call him the King and a reason why, despite a small handful of other golfers with better resumes, Arnold Palmer is still revered in the sporting world to this day as one of the true icons.
A lot of that came with his success, his charm and his looks, but the reason people love Arnold Palmer is because, simply, he’s the blue collar, greenskeeper’s son who was the bridge across the moat the fiscally elite built to protect their precious, exclusionary sport. He’s the everyman who treated everyone like they were a dear personal friend. People admire Jack Nicklaus, Bobby Jones and Ben Hogan. People love Arnold Palmer. And Arnie loves them back.
And while we’ve chronicled his strong pimp hand a few other times around these parts, today, we’re going to highlight one of the more entertaining, and most recent, stories…the one where Arnold Palmer tears into Fat Ben Roethlisberger, that ungrateful fat fuck, in public at a country club.
You know you wanna read more. Bump it for the rest. Read the rest of this entry »