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"IF YOU LIKE GOLF"
online golf column
by
Chris Dortch
July 21, 2009
Did Tom Watson lose
the British Open or did Stewart Cink win it? That was the question
among golf fans the world over after the 59-year-old Watson came
within a stroke of the most significant achievement in the history
of sports.
Before I continue, full disclosure is in
order. Tom Watson is one of my all-time favorite players and I was
more disappointed after his loss in a four-hole playoff to Cink
than I’ve been after any golf tournament I’ve ever covered,
watched on television or heard about.
Now that that’s out of the way, it’s safe to
say the answer to the question is twofold. Yes, Cink, one of the
best guys who ever drew back a club and a player of extraordinary
skill, did what he had to do to win at historic Turnberry. His
12-foot birdie putt at the 18th was clutch, and he
dominated a clearly drained Watson in the four-hole playoff.
And alas, Watson contributed to his demise
with his inability to get up and down from behind the 18th
green. One of the best scramblers in golf history couldn’t make
the most important par save of his life, and for that, golf fans
everywhere feel like I do.
It’s a helluva game, golf. Watson is allowed
to bask in old glories all week at Turnberry, where he out-dueled
the great Jack Nicklaus for an Open championship in 1977. And
then, when he’s at the brink of becoming the oldest player in
history to win a major championship, a six-time Open winner and
tied for fourth all-time with nine majors, he’s beaten back down,
felled by a long-time nemesis. His 10-foot putt to save par at
Turnberry’s 18th never had a chance, as though Watson
were hoping it would go in rather than trying to make it go in.
Does this qualify Watson as a choker, as some
on Facebook and Twitter proclaimed? Absolutely not. Anyone who’s
played the game at any level knows he’s a great champion and
didn’t choke.
The fates, it seemed, or the golfing gods,
merely conspired against him.
How else to explain his last 8-iron approach
to the 18th? Watson absolutely smashed that shot, but
the ball just wouldn’t hold the green. Had it landed a mere foot
short of where it did, Watson could have two-putted his way into
golfing immortality.
As it was, Watson’s ball rolled off the green
and nestled in the fringe. His short game philosophy (I know, I
bought his short-game book back in his heyday) has always been
that his worst putt is better than his worst chip. Perhaps that’s
been true most of his career, but on Sunday, it wasn’t. The putt
skidded 10 feet past the hole.
Could Watson have saved par by chipping?
Should he have pulled a 9-iron from the fairway as he mentioned in
his post-match press conference? Those questions will be debated
long and hard, and poor Watson will carry them to his grave.
I don’t think I’ve ever pulled any harder for
an athlete or a team to win. Millions of others could make that
claim. Unfortunately, the collective will of golf fans around the
world couldn’t help get Watson over the edge.
What’s most disappointing about Watson’s
sudden demise at Turnberry was the fact that he’s two months from
his 60th birthday. We know, and he probably does too,
that this was his last hurrah competing against the world’s best
players on the world’s greatest stage.
The stars seemed to be aligned perfectly for
Watson: Tiger Woods missed the cut at a major for just the second
time in his career. The tournament was played at a course Watson
knows well and has won on before. And, with five Open
championships and three Senior British Open titles on his resume,
he’d have to be considered the greatest links player ever. This
seemed to be his time, age be damned.
Regardless of whether Sunday was Watson’s
last hurrah, the thrills he gave us during his improbable quest
will long be remembered, and once again clearly illustrates that
golf is a game for a lifetime.
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