OK, I watched the Masters. Almost the entire final round, and I will admit that I was hoping to see a Greg Normanesque collapse by Trevor Immelman. I wanted Tiger to hit all of those birdies that he didn't, and hit the jumper in Craig Ehlo's face to seal the win. Well, it didn't happen. Even with my daughter and I yelling "miss it", every time Trevor putted, he held on. (my daughter said that we would blame our actions on one of the "too many Justins", that were in the field)
Let me be honest. I don't usually cheer for the favorites. I'm not one of Joe Scarborough's "Fat White Pink Boys", who always cheer for the favorites, and switch allegiances according to who that is. I dig the underdog...except in golf. I like Tiger. He is just so freakin' good. I loved the fact that although he didn't play as briliantly as he has in the past, all of the field, save the newest Green-jacket winner Immelman, faded backwards behind Mr. Woods. Snedeker, Flesch and Casey fell apart, while the best most could accomplish was holding onto what they had. Tiger still ended up second, according to Dale Earnhardt senior, the first loser.
The winner on this day was the golf course. Augusta made Tiger look like...well...me. I misread putts. I yell things like "Look at this! It is supposed to break left!" I took some solace in watching Tiger guage his back swing to see if he can avoid the tree that he put his ball beside..like me. Of course my Augusta is the little two-hole, par 3 course that I made along the pipeline that runs across my property. Regardless, I enjoyed the Masters but I'm still cheering for Tiger.
