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Friday, 6 May 2016

THAT (DAM) MASTERS



Anyone who’s anybody has written something about somebody when it comes to The Masters - The Masters 2016, that is.  The one that took place seventh to tenth of April and is now packed up, all clean and shiny in its Augusta foil wrap, and stowed away till next year.  It’s done and dusted for most - but not so me.  I’m a “nobody” who has nothing much to say about anybody, and I’m a bit slow off the mark when it comes to in-your-face cutting edge commentary but that never stopped me and I find I do have some things to say about some bodies, no matter how late it is.

There’s a defining moment in every event – the one that sears itself into the memory bank, like a hot knife through butter, to render it the key to unlocking all the other memories associated with that event.  We’re talking memory map here and in the future, when The Masters 2016 has disappeared into the haze of history, I could not help but wonder what key figure or feature would outshine all others and give this year’s Augusta its pivotal moment of indelibility eons down the line.

Straight off the first tee, Ernie Els was in contention for that “Defining Augusta Moment” (DAM) title.  Bang went his putter on the first green.  Six feet from the hole, six times it pendulum-ed – or rather it yipping-well didn’t – and before you could shout “Hammer House of Horrors”, his yip-blip, heebie-jeebies, snakes-in-his-head moment had gone viral.  In a few deeply embarrassing swings of a putter, Ernie had morphed from The Big Easy to The Big Difficulty and earned himself an ignoble first place in The Masters’ records by carding a nine on a par-4.  Oh my, he makes my game look professional!

Not satisfied with his first day’s performance, second day out on the same hole, the endearingly lovely Mr Els had another pop at destroying the record books at Augusta and attempted to capture that DAM title again: he eventually finished the hole for a double bogey six – three less than the day before - but only after he had brained an unsuspecting spectator with a wayward second shot that ended up way left of the green.  The magic in those moments was not the extraordinarily high score but the grit of a man whose love for the game and the venue kept him from belly crawling back to the clubhouse in a red embarrassed blush who stayed and played the entire round in the presence of Jason Day, knowing his every moved was being televised.  I died a thousand deaths for him.

Next, Rickie Fowler gave it his best shot.  Rickie may hit the greens in regulation with regularity but nobody could accuse him of regularity when it comes to the regulation dress code.  Like his golf, this dude has gone a fair way to spicing up the somewhat stodgy, stale image of golf’s dress code but, while he looked hot to trot out there on the august Augusta course, his game was cool – that’s “cool” in the Oxford dictionary meaning of the word and before the Urban dictionary had a shot at redefining it.  Having carded 80 and 73 in his outings, the nearest Rickie came to reaching that DAM moment was the speed with which he exited at the cut.  Rickie, get the heat on in your game to make it through all four rounds.  You are so much DAM fun to watch.

Ripping it off the tee box next came the triumvirate charge of Ireland’s Lowry, America’ Love III and South Africa’s Oosthuizen with a clutch of aces on the 16th in the final round - and all within a two hour space.  Lowry showed the way with a perfectly pitched shot, followed by the Love attempt.  By that time, the commentators were yawning and explaining to anyone who’d listen that it was way too DAM easy to hole-out here until Louis threw a curved ball into the equation by copping an “assist” on the green from the already well-placed ball of his playing partner, JB Holmes, and made it look, for a tottering moment at least, that he had abandoned his game of golf and was engaged in France’s ancient game of pétanque as he cannoned his ball into JB’s and took the deflection off it to sink his hole-in-one.  That silenced the pundits’ yawns and lit up our screens.  Alleluia to those DAM aces, Hat Trick Boys.  Just keep them coming.

The Jordan of Israel has a record of biblical proportions.  The Jordan of golf has an equally biblical record.  And it seemed a fittingly biblical place that golfer Jordan’s game began to unravel at the aptly named Amen Corner.  So be it.  That young man, seemingly possessed of the patience of Job, had played a pretty faultless game till then but, critically, dropped a point at hole ten; he dropped a point at the next hole too.  However, these bumps in the landscape of Jordan’s game merely serve to re-focus him in a bounce-back run that will always keep him in contention.  That’s the nature of his play.  That’s what we all expected.  That’s what should have happened – and it so easily could - but nobody reckoned with Augusta’s most iconic hole deciding to re-assert its trickery and pound out a new chapter in tournament history by scuppering Speith’s chance at a consecutive green jacket.  Twice in Rae’s Creek went his ball while taking a divot the size of Mount Ararat on his second “water” shot.  The 80th edition of the Masters could well be remember for that episode and, while Jordan re-wrote the record books for the second year running, it was not the sort of record he wanted to write this time out.  Not by a long, card-shattering DAM shot!  I usually shout advice at the telly but I was beyond silence at this point.

And then came Danny Willett and his grinder’s grit.  Flashing Sheffield steel and a white head-to-toe outfit, he plugged away.  Son of a preacher man, Danny’s a Christian with a baby fresh out of the oven called Zachariah (meaning: Yahweh has remembered) who happened to be playing the final round in Augusta on his wife’s birthday and baby Zach’s original due date.  Oh Danny Boy, who says there wasn’t biblical forces at play here too?  Providence provided, it would seem.  Whether or not there was divine intervention working in his favour, Danny Willett had the chutzpah to confirm himself the implausible champion of The Masters 2016.  He already had a Masters-green shirt underneath that white outfit and all he needed was that Masters-green jacket to complete his bedazzling look.  He DAM well succeeded and I am left in awe.

But the other hero of the hour never left England and provided us with rich tweets that defined every passing DAM shot that Danny executed on the home run.  As we watched those closing holes, hanging on the edge of our seats, willing Willett to the win as he made three birdies on his final six holes, his brilliant brother PJ ribbed and ripped us with his hilariously insightful comments.

“Speith is lining up his putt.  If I’m quick, I can get a beer, go to the toilet, and paint the spare room before he hits it.”
“Speith, you’ve won one before.  Wind your neck in.”
“Green makes you look fat.  Refuse the jacket.”
“If the boy does what he should, I will be able to say “I’ve shared a bath with a Masters’ winner”.  Brilliant.”
“Three putt this and you might as well stay in America.”

And we laughed and cried our way through those riotously pride, love and rivalry-filled comments as Danny stormed it through those Defining Augusta Moments to the coveted green jacket.
And that DAM win is best expressed by PJ’s summation on Danny 
“Speechless.  I once punched that kid in the head for hurting my pet rat.  Now look.”

Willett & Bro: I can’t wait for the next outing of you winsome, wise, and wonderful wags.  Roll on the US Open but I shudder to think what PJ will make of the Ryder Cup.  After all, he won Twitter #TheMasters but he could break America with his #RyderCup comments.

Bring it on.








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