Minnesota Golfer - Spring 2019 - 40

BACKSPIN
* BY MARK CRAIG *
Mastering the Moment
The author looks back on winning the media
lottery to play Augusta National.
E
arl was my caddie. Sixteen years have robbed me of
his last name, but a lifetime couldn't chase from my
head the sound of that Southern drawl and its attempts
to soothe the breathless swings of my frightened putter
back on April 14, 2003.
" Nice and easy, " Earl would say before witnessing neither
and immediately forecasting the outcome with a worried
" oh, no. "
Each year, 28 reporters covering the Masters are chosen to
play Augusta National the Monday after. This was the year I
won the lottery.
The formal invite arrived Saturday, releasing butterflies
into the belly of a bogey golfer who hadn't
swung a club in seven months and now had
every golfer's ultimate out-of-body experience
scheduled in two days.
My fear of failure subsided on the first tee
when I met Shaun Powell. A columnist for
Newsday, Shaun was peeling the cellophane
off his brand-new clubs when he announced
this would be his first round of golf. Ev-er.
As Earl would say, " It shows. " I started
On No. 7, I pushed the tee shot into the trees. My approach
was a three-quarter punch off pine needles, through limbs
and over the front bunker to 3 ½ feet above the hole. Birdie.
Time.
" Nice and easy, " Earl said.
" Oh, no, " Earl said as the ball trickled 3 feet past.
Two holes later, I heard these words from Shaun: " So, how
big a deal would this be to someone who loves golf? " I can't
remember what I said. I do remember imagining my brotherin-law
clutching his chest and collapsing.
Amen Corner started with a good drive on 11 and a bail " The
formal
invite arrived
Saturday,
releasing
double, double, triple and was the green
jacket frontrunner of my group. Be Like Mike
(Weir), baby!
Of course, I also had another playing partner
miss our tee time and show up in the second
fairway wearing a pair of bloodshot eyeballs.
Yes, indeed, we 28 media hacks were " members for a day. "
But there were, um, limitations back in the day. Recent lottery
winners have written about how they cried driving up Magnolia
Lane. Or dressed in the champions locker room.
Listen here, whippersnappers. Back when I played, Hootie
Johnson was chairman. And old Hootie had the good sense
to send us through the media gate and keep us out of Jack's
locker.
Playing the 6,240-yard members tees, my numeric goal was
to break 100. I fist-pumped my 99 by not four-putting 18. Yessir!
And parring Nos. 4, 7, 10, 16 and 17 with an 8-footer that
warmed Earl's " nice-and-easy " heart.
40
MINNESOTAGOLFER Spring 2019
out to where Larry Mize chipped in to beat Greg Norman in
'87. Greg would have preferred my frightened
flub followed by one putt down the hill and
two more back up the hill.
Standing at the iconic 12th hole was the
day's biggest " you've-got-to-be-kidding-me "
moment.
And my 8-iron looked oh so great in the
butterflies into
the belly of a
bogey golfer. "
air. I posed. Cue the piano music. Cut to Jim
Nantz saying, " You are not going to believe
what you are about to see... "
Ker-plunk.
My 7-iron looked great, too. Until it disappeared
into an Azalea bush, setting up a
skulled screamer back into Rae's Creek and...
" Well, Earl, " I said en route to No. 13, " that
will always be the coolest snowman of my life. "
Touring Amen Corner in 9 over? Big deal.
Running out of gas on my way to Atlanta because of a broken
gauge in my rental car? Missing my flight? Who cares?
What. A. Perfect. Day.
I covered three Masters for the Star Tribune. The first
ended with Tiger holding all four majors as the entire world
watched. The last ended with only Earl there to snap a photo
of me holding the flagstick. I can't really remember any of
Tiger's shots. But I'll never forget any of mine.
Mark Craig is the NFL/Vikings columnist and a golf writer for
the Star Tribune.
mngolf.org
http://www.mngolf.org
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