What it’s like reporting on the Masters when you have no idea who the winner will be

The Augusta crowd were breathless, those at home willed him on, but still nobody could be sure. Would Tiger Woods be able to evoke that cold conviction of old to see out victory?

As the final three-ball turned Amen Corner and faced the at-first-glance innocuous 155-yard 12th at Augusta, there were feasibly at least 10 players who could win the Masters. Francesco Molinari had barely paid a glimpse to the periphery and remained a firm favourite. Tony Finau, the form player who’d blistered close to the course record on the day prior, was lurking just behind. Tiger Woods, still firing in fits and spurts, was at that stage just trying to keep pace.

Moments later, Molinari’s ball landed some 20 yards short of the green and trickled back into the water with slow-motion cruelty and the Italian wore a grimace that would remain as he uncharacteristically cratered. Then, Finau followed him. At that moment, the entire context of the tournament changed, and the prospect of one of sport’s most compelling comebacks became a magnetic reality.

For Woods to win, to end an 11-year major-less run, nine years after the humiliating end to his marriage that marked his decline, and the decade since that featured four drastic spinal fusion surgeries and tortured attempts to return, would stand as one of the most iconic moments in sporting history. The very man who redefined golf at Augusta 22 years ago with the most emphatic of victories, sealing the most improbable and romantic return as a 43-year-old on the very same green.

The crowd were breathless, those at home willed him on, but still nobody could be sure. Could there be a dark horse lurking to snatch away the promise of history? Would Woods be able to evoke that cold conviction of old to see out victory?

On the 16th hole, having taken a slender outright lead, Woods’ tee-shot to the par-3 evaded the hole by a matter of inches for a tap-in birdie. He was two-clear with two holes to play. He had defied the limits of his own body and from thereon you could be all but certain that he wouldn’t release his stranglehold. The world watched him close out those final two holes with awestruck anticipation.

And at that moment too, as Woods approached the 17th tee, began the countdown to write about one of the greatest moments in golf before his final putt fell, and the subsequent portrait as he roared in red to the heavens above.

Yours,

Tom Kershaw

Sports writer