CALCAVECCHIA'S ALL WRONG ABOUT ARNIE.

Byline: KAREN CROUSE

If Mark Calcavecchia weren't making beaucoup bucks as a professional golfer, we'd point him toward Hollywood.

He'd fit in perfectly, given that he looks at the world the same way as today's television and studio executives. You know, the ones who regard as obsolete anybody old enough to have developed any perspective.

We'll leave the question of when life begins to the people on either side of the abortion issue. As for when a person is dead, we can answer that for Hollywood and Calcavecchia:

Just look at the spate of movies, magazines and television shows directed toward a teen and twentysomething audience.

And listen to Calcavecchia, who can't figure out why it is 69-year-old Arnold Palmer is allowed to keep bringing his clubs to the Masters. If you ask him, the king of modern golf can't read the bottom line any better than he can all those par putts.

``I love Arnie to death,'' Calcavecchia said Thursday. ``But it's time for him to surrender. He still loves to play golf. But there's no point being out there if you shoot 83-84.''

Palmer did open his 45th Masters with an 11-over-par 83, that much is fact. It's just too bad Calcavecchia's perspective is narrower than the tightest fairway he'll ever face. Otherwise the 38-year-old surely would be able to see it's wholly immaterial that he has a better chance of winning his first green jacket than Palmer does his fifth.

Palmer didn't invent golf, he merely carved a colossal following out of next-to-nothing. When he came along in the late 1950s, professional golfers, far from being deified, were generally viewed with disdain or, at best, indifference.

Television introduced golf to the middle class and Palmer made it look really cool. Corporate America took note and Arnie's Army took root.

The results were far-reaching. The British Open had been taking place since 1860, but it had faded in popularity until Palmer crossed the Atlantic and won back-to-back Open titles in 1961 and 1962.

In 1989, another swashbuckling American would bring the British Open to his knees. It was the first and - thus far - only major title for Calcavecchia, who has Palmer largely to thank for all those pounds he collected along with the winner's crystal.

Calcavecchia can't seem to make the connection. Not so the crowds here. The spectators collaring the 18th green rose and gave Palmer a rousing ovation Friday. Then he stepped up and drained his birdie putt for a 78, setting off the sweetest chorus this side of Atlanta's Ebenezer Baptist Church choir.

``I can look in the gallery,'' Palmer quipped, his eyes dancing, ``and if I don't know everybody there, I'm disappointed.''

Palmer's disappointment was real when he was told of Calcavecchia's comments. His face fell and he stammered, ``Well, that's his opinion. He's welcome to it.''

A few minutes later Calcavecchia came into view and the fans at the 18th green greeted him with polite applause. What more proof does Calcavecchia need before he concedes the crowds aren't coming because of him?

Of course, sure as mis-hits happen on the golf course, good people sometimes mis-speak off it (just ask Fuzzy Zoeller). So we caught up with Calcavecchia after his second-round 77 to see if his tune had changed.

Sadly, it was the same, right down to the inelegant pitch.

``Eventually you've got to kind of end it,'' he said, speaking of one of the most storied careers in golf. ``It's just, what was his low round on the Senior Tour last year, a 71?''

There it is, that bottom-line myopia again. In the silence that followed we could almost hear a Hollywood suit saying, ``It's just, what's the average age of a moviegoer, 18?''

Unlike Calcavecchia, some golfers get it. Jay Haas, for one, sees no reason why Palmer's status should be downgraded to a nonparticipating invitee anytime soon.

``I just think it's pretty neat that Arnie's still able to play,'' Haas said. ``I think (champions from earlier eras) are a great addition to the tournament.''

Palmer might not be able to shoot a 32 on the front nine, as did Haas on Friday, but he can play some. Why, his score on the front nine - a 1-over-par 37 - was better than that of a lot of golfers Friday, including two-time Masters champion Seve Ballesteros, 1995 winner Ben Crenshaw, 1979 champion Zoeller, Ernie Els.

And oh, yeah, Calcavecchia, who shot a 39 on the front side and finished the day with a 77.

``I haven't taken any flak yet,'' Calcavecchia said snidely. ``I need some flak. Flak's good for me.''

A little grace would be even better.