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Last February, Tom Kite shot 35-under par to win the Bob Hope Classic. This year, Kite paid. He was 2 under and missed the cut.

But at least, he wasn’t lonely. During four rounds of attempted golf, Kite played with a variety of luminaries, including Gerald Ford, Eddie Van Halen, Leslie Nielsen, Clint Eastwood, Joe Pesci, Mike Ditka, Lawrence Taylor and the man himself, Hope.

“This is not a normal event,” Kite noticed. “It can get a little chaotic out there.”

In 35 years, only one defending Hope champion-Johnny Miller, 1976-has retained the title, and that was before the current made-for-TV format. Now, if you win one year despite casual commotion, you start the next year with bells, whistles, a caravan of carts and a show-biz entourage. It’s like getting a two-shot penalty before sticking a tee in the ground. Last year’s trophy weighs heavily in this year’s bag.

Take Kite’s opening foursome on Wednesday, please. Former President Ford, despite his Secret Service armada, still can find danger with any club. Hope’s monologues are longer than his drives. Van Halen, a rock guitarist, says golf usually means hanging out with his buddies and their beer. He’s a 16-handicap. Ford is a 17, and Hope goes as an 18 only because that’s the legal limit here. Then there’s Kite, the top career wage-earner in a sport that expects spectators to whisper.

Not only the defending champion is vulnerable. Phil Mickelson, another PGA Tour star, stroked a putt the other day that appeared destined to vanish into the cup. But Taylor, the retired New York Giants linebacker and an avid golfer, was putting, too. Out of turn. His ball hit Mickelson’s. Mickelson had to replay his putt. He missed it, and the cut.

“It can be a zoo,” said Scott Hoch, who won Sunday. “Next year, automatic loss for me. But that’s part of the deal. Fans came here not only to watch us, but movie stars and other athletes. That’s the way it should be.”

Hoch’s remarks are timely because golf is soul-searching again. A couple of weeks ago, during the annual Pebble Beach pro-am bash, PGA Tour Commissioner Deane Beman censured comic Bill Murray’s antics as “detrimental and inappropriate.” Murray then branded Beman a dictator of a “Nazi state” and called for his resignation, but not before his farewell gesture of batting a golf ball into Carmel Bay and circling the bases around the 18th green.

Does this kind of schtick belong in golf, a sport essentially without controversy? Judging by ticket sales, absoulutely. Celebrity groups invariably attract the largest audiences at the Hope, and officials at Pebble Beach say that Murray’s appearances there are guaranteed box office. Or, at least, were. Murray said he won’t return, according to Scott Simpson, a rather low-key PGA Tour regular who developed a bond with Murray.

“I don’t understand why people would be against anything Bill does,” Simpson said. “I think they’ll invite him again. I don’t know what he’ll do, though. He plays pretty well, mingles, signs autographs and doesn’t do anything crude.”

Then again, the PGA Tour probably saw enough last year, when Murray plucked a elderly woman from the crowd and danced with her in a sand trap. She wound up on the ground, which was terrific for TV. She also spent the next two days in bed, recuperating. That incident apparently prompted Beman’s pretournament warning that Murray blithely dismissed.

A few celebrity events are a nice change in pace and help the PGA Tour do what it does better than any other sport-contribute to charity. The Hope is the leader in the clubhouse among all tournaments, and Bob Hope, 90, has been great for golf. Besides, despite what Murray said, democracy lives. Players who don’t like these shindigs can stay home.

“Whatever happened to our sense of humor?” Simpson said. “The U.S. Open isn’t until June.”

Golf is supposed to be the sport for ages 8 to 80. That’s a long time between laughs.