It was a beautiful day at Augusta National.
Scottie Scheffler won the Masters and in doing so won his fourth tournament in his last six starts.
He shot a final round 71 to finish at -10.
He was awesome on Sunday going 5 for 6 on off the green scrambles. I have no idea what tournament Jim Nance was watching. He seems lost at times without Tony Romo. If you put Jim Nance with Michael Cage you could conceivably have total non-coherent blather for three straight hours. I thought Scottie’s chip in birdie on No. 3 was the dagger and tore out Cam Smith’s heart right there and then.
It was a beautiful ending. His wife actually looks quite a bit like my daughter-in-law. I cried there at the end. I did a lot of crying watching the final round.
Tiger finished all 72 tortuous holes to finish at +13. He just simply wore out the final two days. He was +1 after the first 36 holes. He was hugging on Little Charlie and I cried on that one too.
I cried a third time when Rory shot a tournament best 64 to grab second place. Rory was my father’s favorite golfer. I’m guessing I was the only dude in Oklahoma who cried this much while watching the Masters on Sunday. If Nora Ephron had scripted Tom Hanks to play Scottie I’d still be crying.
It was a great day of golf and great tournament. More to the point it kept me from even thinking about watching the point shaving Thunder close out their season of sustainability by losing both games in Los Angeles by a combined 70 points.
On one hand in Augusta, we had everything noble and aspirational about sport and competition. Then on the other hand, we had Sam Presti’s Thunder showing us everything tawdry and dubious in regard to the bottom seven teams of the NBA and why probably four of these teams should be moved to other cities.
Just writing that one paragraph about the tawdry Thunder makes me feel dirty. I need to cleanse myself and get the glow back to a wonderful Sunday.
The right one is out there for you, Tiger. You have a lot to offer if you would just take Uncle Mike’s advice. I know she’s out there for you, buddy. You’ve won 15 majors and 82 tournaments all told… don’t you think it’s time to find the right Mrs. Tiger.