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DEUTSCHE BANK CHAMPIONSHIP

On Tour, these quirks keep the ball rolling

NORTON - Not a spit of rain was in Wednesday's forecast. But the umbrella was in his golf bag.

"Always," said Tommy Armour III.

But the cloudless blue sky probably stretched to Nova Scotia. So, why the umbrella?

"I got caught on the golf course one time - and it only takes once."

Yes, he was smiling, but he was serious about the umbrella. "It's part of the bag," said Armour.

It's just one of those things he insists upon to keep the rhythm in his game, which is all about routine and keeping things as standard as possible. If his colleagues don't think it's out of the ordinary, perhaps that's because so many of them have their idiosyncrasies.

Just ask Linus . . . er, Kevin Sutherland. You know, the guy who clings to that white towel like Charlie Brown's friend embraced that blue blanket.

"Have to have it," said Sutherland, whose 362d PGA Tour tournament will arrive with today's start of the Deutsche Bank Championship at TPC Boston. As sure as he'll have golf balls in the bag, the towel will always be within arm's reach. In fact, if you suggest that Sutherland could not function without the towel, he'll laugh, a concession that there's a bit of truth to that.

"It started in junior golf [and continued] on the minitours," said Sutherland. "You don't have caddies, so you have to have the towel with you. When I got on the PGA Tour [in 1996], I decided, 'Why all of a sudden should I have to change?' "

Just don't try and toss him any towel, either.

"It has to be rough, not too fluffy, an old crunchy kind, like a Motel 6 towel," said John Wood, who caddied for Sutherland for many years and was on the bag when the veteran won his only tournament, the Accenture Match Play Championship in 2002.

While it added another layer of responsibility for the caddie ("They're always picking up after me," said Sutherland), Wood, who now works for Hunter Mahan, said it became such a routine it was no big deal.

"He'd head to the green and you'd hand him the putter and the towel. It was a set. Never one without the other."

While the umbrella and towel are physical additions to get Armour and Sutherland in motion, what seems to jump-start others are quirky body moments, whether they know it or not.

Before he takes aim, David Toms licks his pinkie. Jim Furyk has a pronounced hitch in his step before he gets into position. Ever see Fred Couples come walking out of the locker room or onto the practice range? He spreads his arm and stretches out like he's about to take flight. But Freddie being Freddie, the mere act of stretching has a sort of unexplainable rhythm to it, unlike Tom Lehman. He cranks his neck with such ferocity that if you are standing close by you can feel it.

Then there's that tongue . . .

"I'm aware of it, because I've seen so many photos and film of me doing it," said Irishman Padraig Harrington. "I have been told about it and asked about it, yet it's not like I purposely think about doing it."

He suggested he was in good company, though, because Michael Jordan was known for his dangling tongue and so, too, was Pete Sampras. Harrington shrugged, because it's not like he feels it's something that needs to be adjusted.

"I'm more likely to do it when I'm more intense," he said.

Many of these idiosyncrasies developed from rational thinking, like those Titleist golf balls with the horseshoe being different from those with the cross. It's how LPGA Tour member Heather Young differentiates between "practice round balls and tournament round balls," she said.

"Sometimes in the practice round you'll hit two or three balls and in case you were to leave one out there [in the rough], you don't want to see your mark, hit it, then get on the green and say, 'Oh, no, I was playing a 3, not a 4.' That's a two-shot penalty for hitting the wrong ball, so it's my way to avoid those worries."

Even the horseshoe marking has a logical explanation, because her late grandfather, Buzz Nutter, was the center for the famed Baltimore Colts of the late 1950s and a participant in "The Greatest Game Ever Played," the 1958 NFL Championship between the Colts and the New York Giants.

Naturally, you'd never be able to spot Young's little idiosyncrasy, unlike those that are part of the Phil Mickelson repertoire. The lefthander has one of the more distinctive "club twirls" that grace the PGA Tour landscape, and so far as the watch goes . . . yeah, what's up with that?

"I feel like I always need to know what time it is for my preparation," said Mickelson. "I don't want to miss that tee time and I don't want to keep asking people, 'What time is it? What time is it?' "

That is a practical explanation for his life as a professional golfer, but it was in another lifetime, back when he was a junior golfer in San Diego, when the purpose of wearing a watch playing golf occurred to Mickelson.

"I would watch the second hand when I was playing with guys I didn't want to watch swing," he said.

Their swings were that bad?

He smiled for confirmation, which hits at an aspect of the story that is vintage Mickelson. While he had a logical reason for wearing a watch, he has turned that idiosyncrasy into a profitable venture. The night before he turned professional in 1992, he signed a deal with Rolex and it's one that has worked for both sides all these years.

Not that all idiosyncrasies pay off. There is the routine Lorena Ochoa follows when she returns her ball to the putting green and picks up her mark. With great care, the LPGA Tour's best player picks up the coin, takes a step back, and tosses the coin . . .

"Everyone thinks I flip the coin, but I don't flip it. I just toss it. It doesn't spin," said Ochoa.

Flip, toss, whatever. Why does she do it?

"I don't know," she said. "I think I started that on Tour. Maybe my second year. I don't remember exactly the time. It kind of gives me a good momentum. It feels good, you know? If it's tails, I make [the putt]," she said with a laugh.

The young star from Mexico agreed that she had to be careful.

"Once, I dropped it really close to the ball and I almost had an extra [penalty] stroke, so now I always try to do it when I walk away or when I'm far from the hole," she said.

Chances are, Ochoa will never make that mistake again. That's what developing routines is all about, so mishaps don't occur. Look at Armour, heading out onto the golf course on as majestic a day as possible, umbrella within arm's length - just in case.

"Happened once," Armour winked. "Won't happen again."

Jim McCabe can be reached at jmccabe@globe.com. 

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