But there won't be anything resembling comic Tom Smothers doing tricks with his yo-yo as he waited to tee off, or actor Jack Lemmon breaking hearts as he failed to get beyond the third round in over two dozen tries. "I would trade my two Oscars to make the cut and play Sunday at Pebble Beach," Lemmon said.

I have mixed feelings about this year's changes, having played in the event three times. There was certainly nothing else like it in showbiz or sports: competing alongside a professional in a real Tour event, for cash prizes, before a nationwide TV audience. But in truth, the celebrity portion was merely a gimmick. We weren't the best amateurs, only the most well-connected. I got in thanks to my friend and neighbor Clint Eastwood, an owner at Pebble Beach and a frequent participant in the old Pro-Am.

Most of the pros were gracious when we slowed them down with errant shots or, as was occasionally the case with Bill Murray, caused such a ruckus that it was hard to concentrate. Other pros, however, were irked and began skipping the event, which is why this year's changes were made to lure them back.

For those of us who in other settings were reasonably comfortable standing in front of cameras and huge audiences, hitting a tee shot on the first hole at Pebble Beach was beyond terrifying. Warming up on the driving range one year, comic actor Ray Romano told me, "If I hit more than 14 lousy shots today, I'm dead." I asked why. "I've only prepared 14 funny excuses," he explained.

Honestly, I think most golf fans hope to see a pro hit a soaring 3-wood from 250 yards to within a few feet of the pin. But when a so-called celebrity swings, entertainment only happens if his shot is shanked miserably into the ocean.

In Bing Crosby's day it was fun and games. In today's high-stakes golf business there just isn't room for both.

(c) Peter Funt. Distributed by Cagle syndicate.