“Easy for you to say.” Reid took a few practice swings then stepped up to the ball. As he brought his club back he thought of the note and his arms tensed as he swung and hit the ball. Reid knew immediately it was no good. He had hit it too hard and it landed way too close to the green. It ran fast up the hill, took air, landed in the center of the green and continued off the back, through the scattering gallery, stopping about 10 yards into the rough. “Ouch,” Reid said. “Yeah,” Buddy agreed. They walked to the ball. Security had moved the crowd out of the way. For the first time all day, the gallery remained silent. Reid took his lobwedge and hit a high lofting shot that came to rest leaving a 20 foot putt. Not what he had intended. Two putts later, he finished with a double bogey.
Howard parred the hole and they were tied for the lead. Reid sighed, shaking his head in disgust. His body tensed as he aggressively handed his putter to Buddy. “Calm down,” Buddy said. “You need to stay loose.”
“Oh, shut up,” Reid said quietly. Buddy knew that had been coming, but it didn’t faze him; in fact, Reid said it to him fairly often. Buddy always let it go. It was one of the things Reid liked about him and why they made a good team. Buddy let Reid blow off steam at him regularly. He knew Reid didn’t mean it personally; he just needed to vent. Buddy considered it part of his job. He gave Reid a moment then said, “Okay? Are you ready to continue?” “Yeah, sorry,” Reid sighed. “No problem. Now let’s go get the lead back and finish this thing already.” Reid parred 15 and 16. Howard parred 15 and birdied 16, taking the lead by one. Reid then birdied the 17th while Howard shot par. They were tied going into the 18th hole, a par four.
The crowd was buzzing. An ending like this in the Master’s was as exciting as golf could get. Third and fourth positions were already determined. No other players really had a chance at first or second, barring any extreme disaster with Reid or Howard, that is. The Green Jacket was going home with one of them.
They walked onto the 18th tee box. Reid teed up his ball, walked back, shook Howard’s hand and said, “Good luck.” He went back to his ball and took a practice swing. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He relaxed, concentrated on the ball and swung. His drive was flawless, incredibly long with the perfect fade, leaving an easy approach shot to the green.
Howard then went through his pre-shot actions and hit his drive; again shorter than Reid’s, but right in the middle. They walked to Howard’s ball. He had about 170 yards to the green. He took a practice swing, then another, then one more. It was out of character for him but it was certainly understandable. He then hit his ball nicely; it bounced on the green and stopped about 20 feet from the pin. They walked another 30 yards to Reid’s ball. Buddy handed him his wedge. He took one practice swing then hit the ball. The ball flew high and dropped right next to the pin, causing a burst of applause from the crowd. If it had stopped there it would have been the perfect shot, but its rapid backspin ripped into the green sending the ball in the direction from where it came. The gallery’s sudden change of reaction from applause to moans was almost laughable. The ball finally came to rest just inside Howard’s.
They walked up to the undulating dance floor among cheers from the crowd. Reid marked his ball’s position and picked it up.
Howard studied his putt with his caddie and determined the break in the green. He took a few practice swings, lined up and hit his ball. It broke left and rolled toward the hole. Reid thought he had it nailed, but the ball passed the hole a quarter-inch to the left and stopped about six inches away. The gallery moaned then quietly applauded.
Reid placed his ball back in position. He and Buddy studied the putt from different angles. They talked about the break and discussed Howard’s putt. Reid approached his ball, took a few practice swings, then a deep cleansing breath. He swung his putter and hit the ball. It broke left, following a similar path as Howard’s putt. Reid had intended to hit hard enough to compensate for the break in the green. Instead, his unusually soft touch had taken over and he watched the ball lose momentum as it inched toward the hole. Its agonizingly slow pace caused it to veer slightly off target due to a small break in the green. Just as Reid accepted that the playoff would continue, the ball caught the rim of the cup and circled once before dropping in.
Reid let out a huge sigh. The crowd went absolutely crazy. Buddy ran over and lifted Reid in a big bear hug. “You did it!” “Yes I did, didn’t I!” Reid said, not trying to hide his tears. After Buddy set him down and the crowd settled, Howard tapped in his putt. Reid walked over and shook his hand. “Great game, Howard.” “Congratulations,” Howard said, patting Reid on the back. “It was a pleasure to play with you today.” “Thank you. You, too.” Security cleared their path to the scoring tent where they signed and submitted their scorecards. Reid’s euphoria was kept in check by his subconscious thoughts of the note. There’s nothing like achieving the goal of a lifetime while harboring the angst of a death threat, he thought.
Chapter 13
Exiting the tent, Reid was accosted by cameras and microphones. Joel and Stu were flanking him.
Bobby Lee placed his microphone in front of Reid and said, “Reid, con gratulations! What a day, huh?” “Bobby, you have no idea.” “You played an incredible match, although you seemed a little distracted in the beginning.” “Took me a while to get in the zone today, but once I did, I was okay.” “Howard seemed to play better today than he has in a long time; he seemed to step up to your level. What do you think?” “Howard played a great game today. He’s a gentleman and a terrific competitor. I enjoyed playing with him. If other players on the tour adopted some of his qualities, it would definitely bring some class back to the game. As far as Howard’s level of play is concerned, he’s an excellent golfer. In case you didn’t notice, he almost won today. In fact, we missed a sudden death playoff by half an inch.”
“Well, congratulations again, Reid.” Bobby turned toward the camera and said, “I’m Bobby Lee reporting live from the Master’s Tournament with golf’s newest master, Reid Clark, here in beautiful Augusta, Georgia.”
Reid turned away from the microphone and was almost knocked over by Betsy and Hunter. They hugged him and congratulated him until he laughed and said, “Okay, okay girls, thank you, you can stop now.”
Buck stepped into the mayhem at this point, commenting to the reporters that he would hold a press conference later in the clubhouse. He then pulled Reid away toward Butler Cabin for the trophy and jacket presentation. As they walked, everyone lining the path applauded and congratulated Reid. They entered the cabin and were ushered into a large room. Bill Taylor asked Reid to sit with him and last year’s champion near the fireplace. Cameras flashed from all directions.
Taylor presented Reid with the trophy, then the previous winner of the Green Jacket helped Reid into his. Reid felt a chill course down his spine. He would cherish this moment for the rest of his life. He said a few words of thanks, then accepted a check for $1,230,000.
After the ceremony, Buck said, “Sorry to do this to you, but we need to go to the clubhouse for the press conference. I promise it’ll be quick.” The entourage followed Reid and Buck to the clubhouse. Journalists, reporters, photographers and camera crews packed the dining room.
The conference proceeded smoothly and was almost over when a reporter in the front asked, “Reid, can you tell us about this morning’s threat on your life?”
Reid’s face flushed; he looked at Buck, who shrugged with a pained expression. There were a few gasps around the room, the loudest from Betsy and Hunter. Immediately, the room started to buzz. Questions flew at Reid from every direction. Buck calmly reached for the microphone. “Could you all hold your questions for a minute?” He waited a moment. The questions slowed but continued. He then said forcefully, “I’ll explain if you’ll quiet down.” The room silenced. “The fact is we did receive a threat this morning. We wanted to keep this quiet until the police had a chance to start their investigation. In fact, I’d like to know how you found out,” he asked the reporter. “I received an anonymous call.” “I’m going to ask you all for a difficult but important favor,” Buck said. “Please give us some time before this hits TV or the papers. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with yet, and obviously we don’t want anyone to get hurt. If you hold off for 12 hours, we’ll update you with any further information we get. Then we’ll hold daily press conferences, but that’s only if you do not leak the story until the morning.”