Sean Connery - the "real" James Bond - finally turns into a wimp over Bahamas golf

I always thought Sean Connery was a tough guy, the rare soul who managed to stay cool as his hair turned gray. I thought Connery stood out as several generations’ version of a man’s man, the gruff confident character you didn’t want to mess with.

Now, I think Sean Connery’s wimpier than your average iPhone generation trust fund kid, that one of those Paris Hilton want-to-bes that gets a BMW for her 16th birthday could take out James Bond with one scrawny arm tied behind her back.

What brought about this dramatic 180?

Connery wimped out on a Bahamas golf outing like one of those Florida senior citizens who won’t go outside if they feel a slight “chill” in the air. Sir Sean was supposed to play in the grand preview opening of the Blue Shark Golf Club - a complete Greg Norman revamp of an old Joe Lee course in Nassau, Bahamas.

So everyone, including yours truly, shows up expecting to see Sean Connery roll up in an Aston Martin or something. (Greg Norman frighteningly arrived in a mini van, by way of Gulfstream jet). Only as the morning hours dragged on … still no Bond.

Knight Connery delivered some lame bit about a neck injury or tweak. “You know how a neck injury or any injury can affect you in golf,” the PR person gravely said in relying the news.

No, not really. But I do know what sounds like a Jason Kidd trade-me migraine excuse when I hear it.

The speculation among some golf writers at the event was the Connery woke up in the morning, took one look at the gray, spitting sky and coped out like a John Edwards supporter trying to explain four percent in Nevada. Say it ain’t so Sean! You haven’t looked this bad since you tried to woo Catherine Zeta-Jones in Entrapment.

Sure, it rained. But it’s Bahamas warm rain, more like an extended bath than anything. That spooks James Bond?

And no excuses about Connery being 77. He’s still known as Bond dammit.

When I was growing up, my dad - an actual Englishman - would speak glowingly of Sean Connery being the only true Bond. I’d always argue George Lazenby was actually the best Bond by far (some might think I was just being contrarian to be contrarian but I’m sticking by the Australian).

Now, it’s Lazenby in a wipeout.

For Sean Connery looks like the worst kind of golfer, a fair-weather golfer.