LPGA has a universal language: money

Money talks. And it's not choosy about what language it uses to get its point across.

The latest beneficiary is the Ladies Professional Golf Association, which - in response to pressure from corporate sponsors - has taken a mulligan after a poorly conceived English-only policy that sounded like gibberish.

Last month, the LPGA - under the stewardship of Commissioner Carolyn Bivens - announced that starting next year, it would require players to speak English during pro-am competitions, trophy presentations and interviews with the news media. There would even be a test of English-speaking ability. Those who failed would be fined, possibly even suspended.

Sports writers, television commentators and newspaper editorial pages blasted the idea. Stars of the game also chimed in. Lorena Ochoa of Guadalajara, Mexico, one of the top female golfers in the world, described the policy as "a little drastic" and submitted that golfers should be judged only by their ability on the course. She also suggested many international players were already making an effort to learn English to communicate with other players, and didn't need to be coerced.

Speaking of coercion, those who support so-called "official English" laws - requiring that, for instance, state and local government documents be printed in English - claim there's a difference between what they advocate and more punitive English-only policies like the one the LPGA tried to implement. If so, it's a semantic one.

The concepts blend together when someone defies an "official English" policy or statute and they're punished.

But what the LPGA had in mind was not just an extension of the English-only debate in the United States. That's a domestic argument about what language Americans should speak.

The LPGA wanted to extend that argument to foreigners. Its policy was obviously aimed at the association's 121 international players who come from 26 countries.

After all, one imagines the American players speak English just fine.

Usually, "English-only" has become synonymous with "anti-Spanish". Yet those who follow golf suggested the LPGA was cracking down on another minority: Asians.

More than a third of the international players are from South Korea, and some are among the best in the game. That got me thinking that maybe the policy was in response to the grumblings of U.S. players who tend to finish way down the leaderboard. If Koreans can't be intimidated on the golf course, maybe they can be intimidated off.

The policy wasn't cultural or personal, Bivens assured critics. It was business, an acknowledgment that fluency in English is crucial to golf's marketing efforts.

So now playing golf isn't just about putting a little white ball into a cup on the green. It's about helping to make greenbacks for the sport.

I'm all for that. But, with more international players in the game, and more opportunities to promote American sports and athletes overseas, this is not the best time for an English-only policy.

Besides, while some who supported the policy tried to suggest that the idea had come from corporate sponsors, recent events suggest otherwise.

Corporations who bankroll golf tournaments were not shy about communicating their displeasure, perhaps fearing the fallout would damage their brands around the world.

A spokesman for State Farm Insurance confessed to being "dumbfounded" and was re-evaluating its sponsorship. Other companies sent similar signals.

That's all it took.

The LPGA backed off. Bivens said the association would issue a revised policy by the end of the year, one without suspensions but might include fines.

That's not much of an improvement. Let me say it in plain English: Either Bivens gets rid of the English-only policy, every last bit of it, or the LPGA should get rid of her.

© 2008, The San Diego Union-Tribune