Day
Four - April 9th, 2006
Sunday starts bright and
early as they need to finish round 3, and
get round 4 in before dark. Its really going
to be a long day....we’re running
late as we had to update the site Saturday
night and snagged about 4 hours sleep...(at
dinner Saturday night a lady recognized
us from the TV story...for her diligence
she earned a new LFA 2006 Tee-shirt..)
So, we bang out a couple
adult beverages and Hardee’s breakfast
sandwhich on the way to the course...remembering
that no beer sales on Sunday until 12:30pm...
We get to the course around
8am, and put our chairs back on the 17th
green, 2nd row...figure we can watch this
hole play out as the tournament ends....prophetic
move on our part...we spent the first half
of the day watching groups finish the 3rd
round on 17, then we walked the course,
spending some time on the Par 3 16, and
also in the front row of the 8th tee-box
watching players tee off, thanks to our
buddy Jack “the scorer”.
Random notes....then we’ll
kick it into a play by play round up, ala
Bill Simmons, for
the last round.
- Murmurs....its a crazy
phenomenon you hear through out the course...you
hear a roar, a cheer, a groan....from
distance holes...as the day progresses
you can try to make out who’s cheer
it is....real loud either Tiger or Freddie...cordial
VJ.....birdie loud or eagle loud? So you
hear the roar, then you watch the leader
board, waiting for them to put up a score...birdie,
eagle, bogey...the anticipation is palatable.
- Between rounds we
ran into the army of mowers, and talked
to a groundskeeper. They sent 23 huge
mowers out to mow every fairway and green
between rounds.
- On the 18th fairway,
I got the dirt we are going to put on
our Grandfather Junior’s grave...it
was pretty cool....
- Stuart Appleby almost
hit me in the pumpkin with a wayward drive.
- In talking to many
of the volunteers, they all spoke very
highly of Ted Purdy, and how in all their
years of working the Masters, he is one
of the few golfers who actually stopped
and thanked them for working it.
The
final round is well under way...
4:37pm....there is no more
beer sales. It stops at 4pm.....we’ve
been at Amen Corner (holes 11, 12 and 13)
and head to our seats up at 17. And when
I say up, I think I need to put a bumper
sticker on my butt that says, “this
butt climbed Mt Washington”....you
cant gather from TV what a hilly course
the National is.
Currently the leaderboard has Mickelson,
Jimenez, Freddie, and Chad Campbell at -4,
and Tiger lurking at -2.
4:40pm.
Swing by the 15th fairway and watch Tim
“Lumpy” Herron and Shingo Katayama
play up to the green. Shingo has a cat puke
green shirt on, and lumpy has a Sea Foam
Green....what is Sea Foam Green? JM claims
that’s the color...
4:46pm...still
walking to our seats...I said it was a long
walk....run into two Lemonheads (slang for
volunteers because they wear yellowhard
hats)...chat with them, and they say they
want Freddie or Phil to win...one guy wants
Chad Campbell...
4:48pm.
Finally get to the 17th green and the scoreboard.
Watch Padraig Harrington play 17...he’s
+6, and David Howell is +2. Not too exciting...but
JM and I gamble on every approach shot.
If you pick the closest to the pin you win,
and get to pick first next time....I am
down $3, because David Howell misses the
green.
Leaderboard update: Mickelson and Freddie
are -5 now...Singh is hanging around at
-4. Jimenez has slipped to -3.
Ron the Security Guard doesn’t want
a playoff...he has to drive to Hilton Head....
5:01pm.
Its been an hour since they stopped beer
sales...this is like not having a beer during
the 7th game of the World Series....
Jose “I Lost A Ball” (Olazabal)
Eagles 15 and is now at -5. The crowd goes
nuts when its posted on the board....However,
Freddie and Phil are at -6 now. Its looking
like a barnburner.
5:22pm.
I think National Member Bill Gates’
plane just buzzed the course and he wants
to land on Hole #1. (I made that up)....The
crowds from around the course continues
to roar, groan and politely clap. Things
are heating up.
5:50pm.
Just made a four Klondike Bar run. There
is no alcohol in ice cream...so I’m
shooting for the sugar buzz....pass the
bars out to the people around us. Rod Pampling
and Hensby both bogey 17...I lose another
hole to JM. It looks like dinner is officially
on me.
Leaderboard: Mickleson at -6 and Freddie
at -4, both at 12.
Tiger is fading fast and is still at -2.
Someone needs to run down to 13 and stick
a fork in him.
Singh is now tied for second at -4.
6:00pm.
Carbera birdies to move to -3. But it may
be too late...
6:12pm.
Huge roar from near Amen Corner, where Phil
and Freddie are....What’s going on?
Everyone cranes to see the scoreboard. At
this point JM and I decide that you should
be able to rent little ear pieces that has
Jim Nantz giving you play by play around
the course. “let’s go to Bobby
Clampett at the 12th for an update”...etc...
FLIP THE FREAKING NUMBERS...WHAT HAPPENED!!!?
The board holds three holes at a time, so
they slowly tip it back, and you lose sight
of the board for a minute while they add
the new number, then it slowly tips up...slowly...you
see another red number....-5 for FREDDIE!!!
He birdied 13! The place goes nuts....he’s
at -5, just one behind Phil.
6:12:30pm. Board tips again...Phil
birdies 13 also....to go to -7. Crowd groans....its
not because they don’t like Phil.
Its because they want to see a close match,
decided on the hole that “they”
picked to sit at all day.
6:31pm. It’s decided
that if Phil goes to -8 and Freddie bogeys
again, we’re headed to 18 to watch
the final hole.
6:45pm. Tiger is on 17,
he’s -4, and if he birdies out he
comes in at -6....maybe a playoff if Phil
stumbles... Tiger’s mom is at 17,
her shirt matches his. You have to be kidding,
right?
Tiger sticks his shot on 17 stiff...less
than 5 feet from a pin, that is tucked front
right behind a bunker. Maybe he can birdie
out!!! The suspense ends when Tiger 3 putts
from 5 feet.
We head to 18 to watch Phil play on his
way to his second jacket.
7:03pm, watch Tiger and
Tim Clark (from the sand) both birdie 18.
Huge sand chip for Tim Clark as he ends
up in second place alone. Big money.
7:14pm. Watch Phil and
Fred play 18. Huge applause...even a little
more for Fred than soon to be champion Phil.
We watch Phil putt out to win the MASTERS!!!
I get goosebumps just writing this....
We go up and watch the
Jacket ceremony on the putting green....all
the money the National has and the sound
system for Hootie’s speech is full
of feedback...we watch Phil come from the
Butler cabin to the podium...his daughter
runs out to meet him. It gets dusty.....
Phil provides a very classy speech and asks
everyone to think about the health of Tiger’s
dad and pray for him.
The ceremony ends....our
trip to the Masters is over....we linger
at the practice putting green soaking it
in.....
8:06pm. Hootie Johnson
walks towards JM and I....no one else is
around....He stops and we thank him for
allowing us to attend such a fine tournament,
he is pleased we came, shakes our hand and
moves on. Really....no kidding....the last
thing we experienced at the Masters was
shaking Chairman Hootie Johnson’s
hand......
What a weekend..... |
 |
Updating
my list & trying to re-establish ties
to reality – April 10th,
2006
Phil!
It’s funny, because on Thursday I
was speaking with a random Masters Patron
about the most exciting Masters we’d
seen on TV (his first time at the course
as well). Although most people will tell
you the 86’ Nicklaus victory was the
best ever, this particular patron and I
shared the same opinion. We both felt Mickelson’s
first Masters victory (2004) was our favorite.
I was in New Jersey for Easter weekend visiting
with my wife’s family. We had a new
HD TV going (2004 was the first year the
tourney was broadcast in HD), I had my Masters
jacket on, everyone was crowded around the
television, entranced by what was happening.
Between the amazing picture quality, the
amazing eats, and the amazing wagers, we
were convinced this was going to be Phil’s
year.
Contrary to what many may think, there
is no inspiring classical overture playing
from hidden speakers throughout the course,
although there was music playing in my head
as I laid feet on the first fairway Sunday.
As soon as you walk through the gates you
can’t help but feel the level of excitement,
anticipation, and the surprising difference
in attendance. People are decked out in
their finest “I’m a rich, Sunday
golf fan” attire – from sport
coats to mid-length dresses all the way
to argyle sweater vests and even plus-fours.
Dan and myself stayed true to our daily
garb and sported our LFA t-shirts. I dressed
things up a bit with a pair of blue striped
sear-suckers. Nothing says “Die-hard
golf fan” like a pair of sear-suckers
and a left hand, balancing three full plastic
beer cups. Booyah!
As one of the (repeat) patrons we spent
some time with described – every great
golfer has their own “roar”.
Jack had a very distinctive gallery roar,
unlike any other. You could hear it from
Atlanta – deep, manly, alien. When
Jack Nicklaus birdied a hole on Sunday,
the ground shook, people stopped, as if
the sky were falling. All focus turned to
one of the many scoreboards littered throughout
the National in anticipation. As the numbers
turned, the heads and hearts of 30,000 people
also turned. Like Jack, the only other golfer
ever to play Augusta National has a similar,
if not more powerful roar. Tiger. What separates
Tiger’s roar from jack’s can
only be explained by those that have had
an opportunity to see Tiger overcome a field
of competition and attain victory. Sadly,
we were not fortunate enough to see this
display – however, we did see a brief
glimpse of this phenomena. As Tiger played
the back nine on Sunday, he tried his damnedest
to climb the leader board. When he birdied
the 15th hole, anyone within 300 yards joined
together in, what can only be described
as, an eruption of unmatched proportions.
He had come within a few strokes of the
lead. We were seated at 17 and I swear the
canvas on my chair trembled. The 1300 people
surrounding me smiled and simultaneously
swung their heads to the right to see what
Tiger had done. They knew, we knew, everyone
knew Tiger had done something. It was…
his roar. Phil, on the other hand, has a
uniquely high-pitched roar. The reasons
were discussed at length as to why we thought
this was. The conclusion was that Phil has
a larger female following than Tiger or
Jack. Phil’s roar starts on the 7th
hole and it could be followed around the
course like a loud, beat-up station wagon
driving around your neighborhood on Sunday
morning. Phil was making his move. Back-to-back
birdies at 7 & 8 put him in the lead
at 6-under. He made the turn and things
were quiet until the 13. We heard the sound
and knew it was Phil. Another birdie at
15 put him out of reach at 8-under. Phil
had just won his second Masters title, joining
a fraternity of accomplished, skilled golfers.
I’ve always been a Phil fan. When
he made his infamous “leap”
on the 18th green back in 2004, beating
Els by a stroke to clinch his first Major,
I knew he’d do it again, and again,
and again. 2006 was Phil’s year, and
deservedly so. On a Sunday when most golfers
needed to play 36 holes due to Saturday’s
rain delay, only determination, heart and
focus would prevail. When it’s really
quiet, I mean silent – like early
in the morning, reading the paper, or sitting
on my back porch enjoying the evening sunset,
I can still hear that roar. The most beautiful
thing about it is, it’s not coming
from Augusta, it’s coming from inside
me. This experience will always be there
and won’t be going anywhere for a
long, long time.
My “Things to do before I die”
list just got a lot shorter. |
