I don’t know where you come down on the most recent Masters, but I personally was bored stiff. You know that saying, “The Masters doesn’t really start until the back nine on Sunday,?” I think they forgot that this year.

In hindsight, I guess it was appropriate that CBS went ahead and coronated Zach Johnson when he left the 18th green. He did win, in the end. But the crying and baby-kissing is usually done after the tournament’s over, not when there are still two guys on the course who could possibly win.

Conditions at Augusta National were so difficult that even Tiger Woods was bitching at his caddie. It seemed to me he was blaming Steve Williams for the number when he hit his approach into the bunker on No. 17. Of course, I don’t think Williams missed that putt on 16.

Anyway, no one made a run, and rallies are what make the Masters great.
Fireworks. Explosions. Crowds going wild. It’s bad enough to watch the
interviews in Butler Cabin afterward, with the awkward silences and the
previous year’s winner sitting there like an invalid. When it happens
after some of the most boring golf since last year’s U.S. Open, it’s
even worse.

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