The 2013 Masters: Breaking Barriers and Changing Legacies

Sergio Garcia walked off the 18th green of Augusta National last year, after grudgingly carding a third round 75, feeling dejected and on the verge of one of those athlete public breakdowns that's the dream of every sportswriter. His self-destruction that day, which dropped him from tied for third to completely out of contention, was a dream to watch for every golf amateur who spends their weekends avoiding their spouse while hacking around municipal courses and revels in seeing the pros humble themselves on the world's toughest courses. But Garcia's putting meltdown was remarkably painful to witness no matter how much resentment you hold against the supremely talented, whereas someone like Adam Scott's Sunday collapse a few months later at the British Open felt more pleasurable. Garcia, or "El Niño" as he was once known, had built up thirteen years of personal scar tissue and thirteen years of public support from people, like me, who had seen his transition from ballyhooed phenom to his more recent status of forgotten teen idol. He's struggled to find major success (0 for 57 as he enters his 15th Masters this week) in a sport that for him has been more Paper Moon than Love Story; and he's been passed over in America's consciousness by a countless slew of golfing flavors of the week. Scott, one of those young cover boys that Garcia once was, needed a few more floggings from the golf gods before we could feel bad for him. Garcia, on the other hand, had received more abuse than Rutgers basketball players, and on that Saturday late-afternoon in spring he reached his breaking point. "I'm not good enough and today I know it," he told the throng of reporters whose mouths were agape and pens were scribbling. "I don't know what happened to me. Maybe it's something psychological...After 13 years, my chances are over. I'm not good enough for the majors. That's it." From there, the narrative went from dramatists like Rich Lerner jumping on the Golf Channel to rip apart Garcia's defeatist attitude to some contrarians applauding him for his honesty. On the one hand, we have Tiger Woods, who recently told Notah Begay that his goal is to win 20 majors. And on the other, you have Sergio, a guy who at that point was so rundown that if you told him he would be seen as nothing more than the Salieri to Tiger's Mozart he would take it as a huge compliment. My, how their careers have doglegged since that fairway-hopping day at Medinah almost 15 years ago.

It hit me on Final Four-Saturday night, while everyone else my age was drinking and socializing and doing normal people things and I was at home on my couch, tweeting my brains out about bad college basketball and even worse announcing (See: Kellogg, Clark). There it was, a lightning bolt of clarity while another Masters promo aired and the familiar Augusta emcee, everybody’s broadcasting buddy, Jim Nantz, waxed poetic about some sort of golfing “tradition” that’s “unlike” nothing else of its kind, or something like that. You might have heard the saying once or twice. I had my Masters pick. I don’t know why Sergio’s name came to me, but the more I thought, it began to make sense. Garcia unburdened himself that day in front of those Spanish reporters. It was the first step to finding a new mental approach. He began to play looser, as a man stripped of expectations. Later that year he won the Wyndham Championship and tied for third at The Barclays. Then, he began to play inspired golf so he could represent Europe in the Ryder Cup for fellow countryman and close friend of the late, great Seve Ballesteros, José María Olazábal. The “Miracle at Medinah”, the same place where he catapulted himself onto the national stage as an enthusiastic 19-year-old whiz-kid, was for Garcia like playing in front of an old girlfriend. He had something to prove. He threw a flag up for Europe against Jim Furyk in a must-have Sunday singles match, contributing to a stunning comeback team win. “El Niño” was back. But more than any sort of mystical healing, Garcia learned how to putt–something that’s been the main road block in his way of a green jacket. Garcia ranks 55th this year on the European Tour in putts per round, which, for him, is all he needs to win. Always a superior ball-striker, never a high-volume putt-maker. His improved play on the greens is why his scoring average ranks third on the PGA Tour this year. He’s finished in the top 20 in each of those events but hasn’t won, which so happens fits the same criteria as last year’s champion, Bubba Watson. He’s knocking on the door, so close to redirecting his career trajectory. Last year was the first Masters played where Seve, Garcia’s boyhood Spanish hero, was looking down at Augusta’s hallowed grounds as a spirit in the sky. Gary Player once said about Augusta that he wants to be the head pro “if they have a golf course like this in heaven.” Bobby Jones is the architect, Gary Player is still alive, so Seve probably currently holds Player’s future position. Last year Sergio felt the head pro’s pressure to win it for him. Another great Masters quote comes from Ballesteros himself, who once said, “I miss, I miss, I miss, I make,” about his four-putt in 1988 on the par-3 16th, which kind of sums up Garcia’s third round last year that led to his soul-searching. Now, with renewed confidence and a year removed from that regrettable round that some remember for him and his equally-defeated playing partner that day, Rory McIlroy, hugging it out in Amen Corner, Garcia is in prime position to get that Steve Young Super Bowl XXIX-sized major monkey off his back. Sergio Garcia is “The Pick”.

This Masters is different, of course. You may have heard by now that for the first time in a long while (possibly ever?) we’re dealing with an Augusta National Golf Club that hasopened its doors to chicken sandwiches. It’s about time. Finally, some equal rights for wraps and sandwiches. What an empowering moment for chicken sandwiches to knock down the healthy food barrier at the most prestigious golf club in the country. Golf clap for you, chicken sandwiches. Wait, what’s that? Ohhh, you thought I was going to say something else? Something about women being allowed as members at Augusta for the first time ever? Ooooohhh, yeah, that too. Forgot about that.

Women can now belong to Augusta National Golf Club. Is nothing sacred??!!

Geesh. What’s next? The Supreme Court advocating gay marriage? Midgets winning Emmys? Bachelor Pad getting canceled? The guy from Fever Pitch hosting The Tonight Show?

I kid, I kid. I’m happy for women, the club and its first two members Condoleezza Rice and Darla Moore, symbols of the advancement of their gender’s rights. But I am really pissed about Bachelor Pad.

So where are we in the state of golf? Rory McIlroy’s on-course game is fading but at least he’s still doing fine for himself off the course with Caroline Wozniacki. Tiger Woods is dating again, and this time he’s going with an athlete (although, one could argue it does take a certain amount of athleticism to work at Perkins). I’ve been meaning to ask this long before Tiger started dating her: Is Lindsey Vonn all that attractive? I mean, really, Tiger? If Dustin Johnson can score with Paulina Gretzky, then shouldn’t you be with Halle Berry? Also, why has it taken this long for aspiring WAGs (wives and girlfriends of high-profile athletes, for those who don’t read British tabloids) to finally realize how good their lives could be with pro golfers? They make an endless stream of money, travel the world, stay healthy (unless they’re training with Navy SEALs), remain relevant for far longer in their playing careers than athletes from every other sport and, as a whole, they’re generally a pretty good-looking bunch of dudes (as far as millionaires go). WAGs have found pro golfers the same way nerds found Game of Thrones.
Stage 1: “This is good. I could get into this.”
Stage 2: “Ok, wow, this is really, really good.”
Stage 3: “Holy shit do I feel dumb for not knowing about this before now!”
Stage 4: “Did I really just book a vacation to Northern Ireland?”

For every major, I make four picks: A dark horse, two sleepers and “The Pick”, whom I’ve already revealed.

I like to handicap golfers the same way I handicap horses. There are classes, speed ratings and body language signs that I look at when assessing the field. A Masters field generally has about 90% of contestants from the same class, much like another spring sporting tradition, the Kentucky Derby. A tournament like a Waste Management Phoenix Open might have a few Mickelsons, but more than likely one of the overwhelming number of Kyle Stanleys will win. It’s hard to find a true long shot in a Masters field. Everyone belongs there based off their recent play, except for those old-time past champions who like to come back and kick it around the playground every year. I’m looking at you, Sandy Lyle.

Horses compete in different levels of class. Many start in claimings races before they find an owner. Then they move on to allowance races. Then graded stakes races. If they’re really good, maybe they’ll qualify for a Grade 1 stakes race, like the Kentucky Derby. So, if you’re looking at the daily racing forum and you see a horse moving up in class to compete with other thoroughbreds of higher pedigree, that horse probably has no chance and its odds will reflect that. But, as Arnold Rothstein said, “no one likes a long shot more than a gambler.” For my dark horse, I’m looking at players who are moving up in class.

Dark horse:

Thorbjørn Olesen has proven that his top-ten performance at last year’s British Open was not a flash in the pan. He followed that up with a top-30 outing at the PGA Championship and, quietly 9th in the European Tour rankings, the young Dane will make some noise in his first Masters start. Is he moving up in class? You bet he is. But, sometimes the sharks like betting on a horse that may be wet behind the ears but doesn’t know any better than to compete with the big guns because it hasn’t yet tasted defeat. Handicappers love to look at a horse’s workouts. “Does it have a bullet workout? Does it get off to a quick start? What about over five furlongs?”, they’ll ask. Olesen is a new breed of golfer. He’s an athlete. He’s had plenty of workouts! (Horse racing analogy starting to crumble). He’s physically fit like Tiger or Rory but not too strong like KJ Choi or Lee Westwood, where it hurts his putting touch. Also, he’s got some good bloodlines. His fellow countrymate Thomas Bjorn always seemed to rear his head into contention at Augusta, finishing in the top 40 five times and playing in the second last group on Sunday in 2005 before fading down the stretch. Olesen may be young, but at 23 years old, standing at 5’9″, 160 pounds, he’s the same age, height and weight as one Rory McIlroy. And when you’re trying to find a long shot, sometimes you play the lucky numbers. (Horse racing analogy saved).

Sleeper #1:

The most important handicapping tool in a horse racing handicapper’s bag for me are the statistics. There are other things like classes, breeding history, if it’s on Lasix, if it’s wearing blinders, pole position, how it runs on turf or dirt, a fast track or a sloppy one, if it’s mother was a mudder, and the list goes on. But, first and foremost, I look at its numbers. What is its speed rating? How has it finished? How has it finished at this track? In golf, I think the three most important stats are a player’s scoring average, strokes gained-putting and driving accuracy. The guy who jumps out at me is Freddie Jacobson. I’ve noticed him around the lead at a few tournaments this year but didn’t realize how strong he’s been statistically. He’s second in scoring average and sixth in putts per round. His driving accuracy is a little low, but missing the fairway at Augusta isn’t too penal. He’s only played in six tournaments in the U.S. this year so the numbers look like an MLB player who’s had a hot first month. However, putting is something you either have or you don’t have (and then you get a lesson from Steve Stricker). And Freddie’s always been a great putter. He did, however, choke his guts out at the Northern Trust, where he had a chance to get into a playoff but missed a four-footer, so I question his ability to close. He does have two other things going for him: He’s 38, which is typically the prime of a golfer’s career (so if he were to ever really compete in a major it’d be this year), and he finished T19 at last year’s Masters. Also, his odds to win, according to Bovada, are currently a tantalizing 125/1. That’s worth a sawbuck.

Sleeper #2:

I’m sure you have a few unanswered questions. What about the golf version of a jockey, the caddy? What about the golf version of a trainer, the swing coach? And what about the golf version of an owner, the sponsor? All three are relevant and they all factor into the equation, but by no means would I pick a guy because of those things. My third criterion that I use for picking horses when I’m at the track is body language. My uncle has a thing where he waits to place his bets until he’s seen the horses make their way from the paddock and into the starting gate to see how their head is bobbing. If it’s bouncing up and down wildly, he’ll write that horse off. But if it’s hanging low and real steady like it’s just going through a walk in the park, then he’ll throw that one in his superfecta. It’s the 90′s version of what everyone would now call “swagger”. Horses have it, just like people. Now, obviously this isn’t very scientific and most of the time you’re better off going with the favorite, i.e. Eldrick, but I’ve come to see his logic and I will now attempt to apply it to the golf world. Yeah, Tiger’s back in the saddle again (horse racing pun intended), this time with that aforementioned overrated skiing chick. And with three wins on the year, he’s clearly recaptured his playing form. The only problem is, he came into last year’s Masters with good results, too. He won the Arnold Palmer by five strokes, yet he went on to finish T40 at the Masters. I expect a top-20 finish this year, since he’s not only won the Arnold Palmer again, but two other tournaments pre-Augusta. And, he does have that swagger back, so with all those factors going his way I’ll bend to conventional thinking and bump him up into the top ten. He won’t win because I still believe that Tiger’s downfall at Augusta is that after his most recent Sean Foley swing change, he plays a fade (a shot with a left-to-right trajectory for right-handers) on a course that demands you to play a draw (the right-to-left tee shots on 10, 11 and 13 come to mind). Tiger hasn’t won the Masters since 2005 and he’s never won while playing a fade as his go-to shot. I see this as another major, another missed opportunity to close in on “The Golden Bear” for Tiger. Let’s move on to someone who has a real shot to win. It’s become an announcing cliche, but it’s still true: “I love (player x) because you can never tell by his body language whether his team is winning or losing.” Well, what I love about my second sleeper pick, Keegan Bradley, is that kind of demeanor. Last year, I made him “The Pick”. I was foolish. That week I learned that you should never make “The Pick” a guy who’s playing in his first Masters. After winning his first-ever start in a major, the 2011 PGA Champion now has four more major appearances under his belt and a rousing Ryder Cup experience from which to learn. He showed everyone what kind of competitor he is at Medinah. He was rallying the crowd in that stadium-like environment. But in the quiet battlefield of a regular PGA Tour event, he’s a silent assassin pursuing his prey–what in horse racing you would call a stalker. Never getting too up or too down, but knowing to strike at the right moment. He’s the horse with the steady head and the unwavering attitude. Also, he plays a booming draw that’s perfect for this course and leads the tour in top-tens with five, which is good because, with apologies to my uncle, you never really want to make a bet based purely on body language.

To recap, I like Thorbjørn Olesen as a dark horse, Freddie Jacobson as a sleeper, Keegan Bradley as my second sleeper and Sergio Garcia as “The Pick” to receive the green jacket from Bubba Watson inside Butler Cabin in front of James William “Jim” Nantz, III (who really needs to stop calling college basketball games). What a week it will be. It’s my favorite week of the year and a “tradition unlike any other”.

Enjoy The Masters. Enjoy the WAGs. Enjoy Game of Thrones. (Kind of sounds like a house motto, doesn’t it?)

–Michael Friday
@FreddiePhysical