Moment of Glory

by John Feinstein

  “I saw it with my own eyes, and I still couldn’t believe it,” Jonathan Byrd said. “He hit a really good shot with a lot of touch, but the way it bounced left was amazing.”

  Mattiace couldn’t even see the ball go in from where he was, but he heard the shocked roar from the crowd and thrust a fist into the air. He walked onto the green with the kind of grin that is usually seen when someone talks a cop into letting him off with a warning. But in this case, the cop had handed Mattiace a $100 bill and said, “If you get stopped again, use this to pay the fine.”

  Until that moment, Mattiace had been gliding along unnoticed, even by the other players on the leaderboard. Weir and Maggert were waiting for one of the big names to start making a move, but Mattiace was now three under par for the day and tied for second with Maggert.

  Weir expanded his lead to two shots when he hit a brilliant six-iron to four feet at the sixth, easily the best shot of the day at a hole where most players were thrilled to be within 30 feet. He made another miraculous par at the seventh, wedging to five feet from the same front bunker where Woods had found himself twenty minutes earlier.

  Weir also missed the eighth green. After a mediocre layup, his chip from 70 yards came up short of the green, about 80 feet from the hole. His chip rolled six feet past, but he made the putt for par. At that moment, Weir had hit only three of eight greens, but he was two under par for the round.

  “Which is what you have to do on the last day of a major, no matter which one it is,” he said later. “You’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to miss fairways and greens. How you handle yourself on those holes is what ultimately decides your fate on the day.”

  The one person who was continuing to make it look relatively easy was Mattiace. After he parred the ninth, his second shot from the 10th fairway came up 80 feet short and right of the flag. The hole location on the 10th is almost always the same on Sunday: back left. If you go for the flag and carry the ball too far, you may find yourself with an almost impossible shot from behind the green. Most players take the conservative approach, trying to land on the front of the green, hoping the ball will roll to a reasonable distance. No one complains about making par on the tenth.

  Mattiace’s second shot had finished in a spot almost identical to where Ben Crenshaw’s second shot had ended up on Sunday in 1984. From there, Crenshaw had rolled in what was arguably the most famous putt of his career, the putt bending right to left and diving into the hole. That birdie had given Crenshaw the momentum that carried him to his first major victory and the first of two Masters wins.

  Mattiace wasn’t thinking about Crenshaw as he lined up the putt; rather, he was thinking that he would be very happy to two-putt and run to the 11th tee. Only he didn’t two-putt. The putt tracked almost the identical path that Crenshaw’s had taken nineteen years earlier with the exact same result: the ball rolled into the center of the cup, for Mattiace’s second breathtaking birdie in three holes.

  Ever alert, CBS producer Lance Barrow almost instantly came up with tape of Crenshaw’s putt to show the viewers how close to identical the two putts had been.

  Playing the eighth hole at that moment, Weir and Maggert heard the roar for Mattiace’s birdie but had no idea what or who it was for. “To be honest, I had no clue,” Weir said. “You hear a roar that loud, there’s a tendency to think it’s Tiger or Phil, but I knew Tiger had dropped back some and Phil was probably still on the ninth, and the roar didn’t come from there. So, I just didn’t know.”

  The birdie at 10 put Mattiace alone in second place, one shot behind Weir. With everyone having made the turn except for Weir and Maggert, who were on the ninth, the standings looked like this: Weir at five under; Mattiace at four under; Maggert at three under; and Mickelson, Furyk, Singh, and Toms all still lurking at two under. Olazabal and Rich Beem were one shot further back.

  One of the oldest clichés in golf is that “the Masters doesn’t start until the back nine on Sunday.” The reason that statement had always applied to the Masters more than to the other majors is the way Bob Jones and Alistair McKenzie designed the last (second) nine holes. There is water in play at five of the nine holes (11, 12, 13, 15, and 16), and players have risk-reward options on a number of holes, most notably the two par-fives—13 and 15. Those holes are often referred to as “par-four-and-a-halfs,” because they often can be reached in two but not without dealing with potential water troubles.

  Even with the lengthening of the golf course, 13 and 15 were still holes where players could make a major move in one direction or another. The two par-threes often play an important role in deciding winners and losers. The tiny par-three 12th almost never requires more than an eight-iron off the tee and is often played with a wedge, depending on the wind. But the green is narrow, and there are water and bunkers in front, and bunkers and a flower bed behind. Any error, any gust of wind one way or the other, and a player can be in deep trouble. The 16th isn’t nearly as daunting, and the Sunday pin is often back left, near the water, but in a spot where a shot that lands right of the flag may funnel toward the hole if it lands in the correct spot.

  There had already been talk that the lengthening of the golf course had taken some of the romance out of the back nine. More players were laying up at 13 and 15 than in the past, and 18, once a hole with some birdie potential, had been stretched out to the point where birdies were few and far between.

  Even so, with a tightly bunched leaderboard—there were nine players within four shots of the lead, five of them past major champions—it was clear that this was one Masters that would be won on the back nine on Sunday.

  “What’s hard about it is that there’s no chance to take a deep breath,” Weir said. “Part of it is the situation, but a lot of it is the golf course. There are birdie holes out there, but there isn’t a single hole where you can lose any concentration at all and not get burned by it. It can wear you out mentally.”

  That’s why it isn’t at all uncommon to see players sneak up the leaderboard on Sunday and then suddenly plunge—undone by “Amen Corner,” or, almost as often, by other less famous holes.

  Weir finished his front nine with a solid par at the ninth, hitting an eight-iron to 18 feet and two-putting to go out in 34, two under par. As he and Maggert (who had also parred the ninth) walked through the ropes that run behind the 18th green to get to the 10th tee, CBS showed a graphic on the highest finishes by Canadian players in major championships: George Knudson had tied for second in the ’69 Masters behind George Archer, and Dave Barr had tied for second, one shot behind Andy North, in the ’85 U.S. Open.

  Weir was still a long way from matching or topping them as he walked to number 10. The 34 on the front nine meant that he had played the front nine in six under par for the tournament. Through three rounds, he was one over par on the back, including the three-over 39 on Saturday that had knocked him out of the lead.

  He began the back nine with another par, while Maggert, who had been quietly hanging in, rolled in an 18-foot birdie putt to get to four under, one shot back. Singh was also at four under at that moment.

  Up ahead, Mattiace had stayed away from trouble to make par at the 11th, and then caught the kind of break at the 12th that a Masters champion often needs. His eight-iron looked for a moment as if it might come up short of the green, but it landed just over the bank that would have almost guaranteed a wet finish and stopped 18 feet from the hole.

  “That was four feet from disaster,” CBS’s Bobby Clampett said.

  “He got away with one there,” Lanny Wadkins said in response.

  “Looks like it’s turning into a magical day for Len Mattiace,” Clampett added.

  Mattiace two-putted for par and walked to the 13th tee still trailing Weir by a shot. He hit a perfect drive, drawing the ball toward the corner where the hole doglegs left. From there he had 224 yards to the hole and decided to go for the green with a five-wood. He hit a gorgeous shot, the ball landing on the front of the green and rolling to wit
hin 10 feet of the cup. At that moment Mattiace was the twentieth player in the field to go for the 13th green in two on Sunday and only the second to find it.

  The “patrons” were by now beginning to sense what Clampett had brought up on the 12th hole: that this was indeed becoming a magical day for Mattiace. With Woods out of contention and Mickelson still a couple of shots back but not making a big move, they were as happy to root for Mattiace as anyone else. When his eagle putt went into the hole putting him at six under par for the day and for the tournament, the cheers echoed off the giant trees all the way back to the 10th green, where Weir and Maggert were at that moment.

  “I guessed that it was Len and that he’d made eagle because it wasn’t a birdie roar,” Weir said. “I could tell it was coming from 13 green, and I had a suspicion he’d just taken the lead.”

  He had. Weir knew he had to stay patient and make sure he got through 11 and 12 without making a mistake. His chance at 13 would come soon enough, and there were still plenty of holes to play—for everyone.

  Weir and Maggert both parred the 11th. Singh had birdied 11, but then bogeyed 12 from the back bunker and bogeyed 13 after a poor drive that forced him to hit his second shot left-handed. Olazabal and Beem had both gone into the water at 13. Mickelson and Furyk were still at two under par, along with Singh. It was beginning to look like it was a three-man tournament: Mattiace, Weir, and Maggert.

  Weir found the green at the 12th and breathed a sigh of relief. The hole was playing longer than usual because of the wind, and Maggert decided to go with a seven-iron to make certain he didn’t come up short. He didn’t, but the ball flew into the back bunker. There may not be a more frightening bunker shot in golf than one played from the back bunker at the 12th hole, which has the innocent-sounding name “Golden Bell,” because the shot is straight downhill to the pin, and if you try to baby it you can leave the ball in the bunker. Play the ball boldly at all, and it can easily end up in the water.

  That’s what happened to Maggert. His second shot rolled through the green and straight into the water. As a result, he had to walk all the way around the green and Rae’s Creek to the drop area between the tee and the green. Clearly unnerved, he plopped what was now his fourth shot into the water. Memories of Tom Weiskopf’s 13 on the tiny hole began to surface in people’s minds. Maggert finally found the green with his sixth shot. He missed his 20-foot putt for seven and tapped in for an eight.

  Two holes—the shortest par-four on the course and the shortest par-three—had destroyed Maggert’s chance to win the Masters. As he walked off the 12th green, Maggert had played 10 holes in the last round in two under par. He had played the third and the 12th in eight over par, meaning he was six over par for the day and one over par for the tournament.

  Weir watched Maggert unravel with some measure of shock and an equal measure of sympathy. He knew he had to keep his focus, which wasn’t easy since it took Maggert quite a while to play from bunker to water to water to green. Weir took a deep breath when Maggert finally found the green and began lining up his 60-foot birdie putt.

  His putt went about five feet past the hole, but, just as he had done all day, he was rock solid on the putt coming back and walked to the 13th tee still trailing Mattiace by one.

  At that moment, however, Mattiace was on 15. He had parred 14—often a difficult task for players pumped up after making an eagle at 13—and then hit a perfect drive at the 15th, leaving him only 219 yards from the hole.

  “This may well be the most important shot of his life,” David Feherty told the TV audience as Mattiace lined up his four-iron on a slight downhill lie. The shot rocketed over the pond fronting the green and rolled just over the putting surface. Many players are so concerned with coming up short of the 15th green that they go over the green and find water on the other side. Mattiace was close enough to the green that he could putt, and he cozied the ball to within 18 inches of the cup for a tap-in birdie. He was seven under par and two shots clear of Weir. No one else was within three shots of him.

  But Mattiace knew the tournament was far from over since Weir had yet to play 13 and 15. Weir knew exactly what the situation was at that moment. “I knew I had to at least make a birdie at 13 and make one at 15 and make sure I made no mistakes coming in,” he said. “Lenny had played a perfect round up until that point, but I still thought I could catch him.”

  Unless Mattiace completely collapsed, it was unlikely anyone other than Weir was going to have a chance to catch him. Mickelson had reached both 13 and 15 in two but hadn’t converted either eagle putt. He was in third place at four under par, but the more likely birdie holes were behind him. Furyk was at three under. Everyone else had gone backward on the back nine.

  Weir hit a good drive on 13, although it was a little bit left of an ideal spot, and he had to steer around some overhanging tree branches with his second shot. He hit a four-iron from 193 yards, and the ball bounced through the green into the deep swale to the left. Peter Kostis quickly noted how tough the shot was by pointing out that it was possible to put the ball into the water fronting the green if the shot was played too boldly.

  Clearly aware of that, Weir decided to putt rather than chip from the swale. The ball tracked all the way across the green and barely stopped before reaching the fringe on the other side, leaving a tricky 12-footer for birdie. Fully aware of what was at stake, Weir stalked the putt for a while before calmly stroking it into the hole. As it went in, he shook his fist, as if to say, “This isn’t over yet.”

  Which was exactly what he was thinking.

  Mattiace had other ideas. Wanting to be sure not to come up the least bit short on the par-three 16th—“Redbud” on the scorecard—he took a five-iron, with the hole playing 183 yards to its normal Sunday back-left pin position. His ball landed in exactly the right spot, dead center on the green, and trickled left, stopping 8 feet under the hole. The birdie putt was never going anywhere but in the hole. At that moment on Sunday at the Masters, Mattiace had played 16 holes in eight under par. He led Weir by two and everyone else by at least four.

  Mickelson and Furyk were in trouble. They both parred 16 and 17, leaving them too far back with too few holes to play. “Realistically, when I didn’t birdie 16 or 17, I knew it was over with Len [two groups ahead] on 18 at eight under,” said Mickelson, who would finish third for a third straight year. “I needed to birdie those two and the 18th and hope he made five at 18 to have any shot at all.”

  Weir had parred 14 while Mattiace was playing 17. Seemingly nerveless, Mattiace had hit another perfect drive at 17—which CBS somehow missed showing live—and then watched his second shot from 156 yards roll just off the green. From 40 feet he calmly putted to within a foot and tapped in. A par at 18 would mean Weir would have to play the last four holes in two under par to catch him.

  Mattiace stood on the 18th tee fully aware of where he was and what he was on the verge of doing. The course record at Augusta National is 63—before the extra length was added—held by Greg Norman (1986) and Nick Price (1993). Neither man had won the tournament that year. The low Sunday round by a winner was the 64 Gary Player had shot in 1978, years before the course was lengthened. Mattiace needed a par to shoot 64 and, in all likelihood, win the Masters. He had not made a bogey all day: he had one eagle, six birdies, and ten pars.

  On the 18th tee, the moment finally got to him a little bit. His drive went right, bouncing into the trees and the pine straw on the right side of the fairway. If the ball had bounced differently, he might have had a shot to the green, but when he got to it he could see that he had no chance and no choice but to punch out and try to get up and down for par. He did so, leaving himself 120 yards to the flag, which was in a new location—back right. The usual Sunday placement was front left.

  The new location had given the players fits all day. There had been one birdie—by 1998 champion Mark O’Meara—and a slew of bogeys. Trying to make sure he didn’t leave his wedge short of the upslope in front of the flag,
Mattiace watched the shot fly over the flag and stop in the back fringe, 18 feet from the flag.

  Badly wanting to make the putt, Mattiace looked at it from all angles and then, nerves clearly taking over now, left the putt a good seven feet short. All of a sudden he had a tough putt for bogey. He managed to slide that one into the hole. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, waved his cap in appreciation as the fans stood to cheer his remarkable round, and was in the scoring hut intently watching as Weir played the 15th hole.

  Weir’s drive on 15 had faded a little bit left into the rough, forcing him to lay up—not the play he wanted under the circumstances but the only play he had. From 92 yards he was able to skid his wedge to a halt five feet away, and, as he had done all afternoon, he coolly nailed the putt to get to seven under. That meant he and Mattiace were tied. Weir was walking off the green when he heard the crowd murmuring. He looked behind him at the giant scoreboard that is right off the green and saw the red “7” next to Mattiace’s name, indicating he had bogeyed 18. He took a deep breath.

  “New ball game,” Weir said to Little as they walked through the tunnel underneath the stands that leads to the 16th tee.

  6

  A Life-Changing Moment

  LEN MATTIACE WAS SITTING in the scoring cabin adding up the numbers on his card to be sure they were correct—golfers are especially careful about this at the Masters, where Roberto De Vicenzo’s 1968 gaffe, signing for a score one shot higher than he actually shot, has never been forgotten—when Mike Weir made his birdie putt at the 15th to tie him for the lead.