Tom Talks

Tiger gives the Masters a jolt

   As Tiger Woods approached the 18th green, he was one of five players 10 under par. Adam Scott was eleven under.

    Even though Tiger didn't have the lead, he had the crowd. The ovation with which he was greeted was charged. It had an edge nobody else's did.

    Here's the impact Tiger has. Security officers at Augusta National Golf Club had not talked about golf all week. At least, I hadn't heard them, and I see the same guards, repeatedly, every day. When Tiger made his move Sunday, shooting a 31 on the front nine, the guards began to talk, excitedly, about Tiger.

     Tiger is Michael Jordan in the NBA playoffs. He's Dale Earnhardt Jr. first at the finish line. He had a chance to catch Scott and go 11 under. He had a putt of more than 20 feet for a birdie.

     Tiger was, before his personal life and then his game went bad, the greatest clutch putter since Jack Nicklaus. But he was less than clutch on 18; this putt never had a chance.

    He walked off one stroke back. Scott still has three holes to play.

 

 

Haven't forgotten you, Cam Newton

    I've been on the golf course the last five days so here's a sentence I haven't written for at least a week.

    The Carolina Panthers should draft Cam Newton.

    Thank you.

 

Sergio Woods

    Sergio Garcia was in the woods and decided to stay there, working his way through the trees to the 11th green. Marshals asked patrons to move their chairs back, but nobody moved far enough and the marshals pushed them back to the tree line. Garcia motioned with his arms that he needed more room and fans stepped back again.

    The scent of cigar smoke overpowering, Garcia hit and the ball bounced off a tree, just missed a guy's leg and landed about 10 yards from where I stood.

    Fans quickly surrounded the ball, and a guy with a suit walked up and took over. If you want to know who has the power at the Masters, it's not the guys on the course. It's the guys in the suits. The marshals deferred to him.

    Garcia hit again and has not been heard from since. He was six under par going into the hole. He was four under when he walked away from it.

Hang up and watch

   The cell phone ban at the Masters is serious. If there were a TV show called Augusta Law, it would feature security guards confiscating the badges of talkative golf fans.

    I love the ban. I wish cell phones were banned from the gym -- except in lobbies and hallways -- the bookstore and restaurants. If you have to talk, find a quiet corner, go to the entrance or go outside.

     The ban so much a part of Masters life that when I get in my car and drive away I'm reluctant to pick up the phone.

    And this is good.

Couples contends

    Fred Couples shot a 68 Friday and is five-under at the Masters. As he moved around the course, he received lifetime achievement applause. Fans were warm and gracious, except for the women, who were excited.

      Couples is 51. His back betrayed him long ago. But a doctor gave him shots in Houston last week, and as I write this he's tied for fifth at the Masters, four shots out of the lead.

     Jack Nicklaus won the tournament at the age of 46 in 1986. Can Couples pull a Nicklaus?

      "Six years ago, maybe," says Couples, whose last victory was eight years ago. "You know, I mean, could I win? Of course. Am I looking forward to playing tomorrow? You better believe it."

      Can his back hold up two more rounds? Can savvy and experience compensate for age? If you do win, how would you describe the victory?

      "You know, it would be the biggest upset in golf history," says Couples.

 

 

 

     

 

John Daly Tweets

    "John, you gonna be here long?" a guy yells.

    Be here all day, John Daly says.

    Daly wears a red Made in Detroit jacket, a multi-colored cap pulled low and big dark sunglasses.

    He is not at the Masters. He's across the street in his Prevost motor coach. On the door are stickers -- Arkansas and Razorbacks and Dallas Cowboys. He could drive a ball from his coach to the Augusta National Golf Club property.

     Above one side of the coach is a National Hills Animal Hospital sign. On the other side is a billboard with a picture of Phil Mickelson and a Rolex.

     Daly is selling wares. Step right up.

     Two Spanish speaking guys do. They don't buy anything, though.

     On the long table in front of the coach are two books: "Golf My Own Damn Way" and "My Life in and out of the Rough.' There are T-shirts, golf balls and towels. It's like a flea market with Daly stuff, and Daly will autograph everything.

     He won't do interviews, though. Cigarette in mouth, he communicates via Twitter.

 

Small world, Augusta

    Tried to get into the French Market Grille West last night, but nowhere to sit or stand. So walked down the strip mall sidewalk to Toki, a Japanese restaurant. Only a few tables were occupied. One of them was occupied by my friend Brad and his girlfriend and her parents. I had no idea he'd be here, or that he cared a thing about golf.

     Odd thing about Augusta is that despite all the people that come to the tournament and fill the restaurants and bars and streets I always run into somebody I know.

      Perhaps it's because my friends are easy to pick out. They don't wear shorts and pants that look like upholstery at war.

    

Attaining Augusta

    There are certain places that you don't so much reach as attain. When you attain them, you want to throw up your arms and say, yes.

     New Orleans, for me, is one of them. Bald Head Island is one of them. So is Augusta.

      I pulled off I-20 early about 12:30 p.m. today and, had I not been driving, would have thrown my arms in the air. I

       I don't love golf. I'm not going to pretend. But I love this place. Whether you're a fan or a member of the media, nobody treats you better.

        The first three security guards I encountered could have graduated, with honors, from a school that teaches manners. How does Augusta National find so many nice people? And, if they're not nice, how does Augusta National convince them to pretend?

 

   

What is N.C. State doing?

     Mark Gottfried's name was never linked to the N.C. State job because nobody considered him a candidate. He was a good but not great basketball coach at Murray State and Alabama who washed out and beached up at ESPN.

     After getting turned down by the big names, I thought the Wolfpack would identify the assistant or small-college coach in whom they saw qualities nobody else did. I thought they would go after the man they considered the next great coach. I thought they'd make a daring and gutsy hire.

      I was wrong.

       If N.C. State needs a motto for its basketball program, I have one: Good help is hard to find.

 

Doesn't matter how long N.C. State search lasts, matters how it ends.

    At N.C. State every search for a basketball coach feels like a journey. Call a leading coach and you expect to hear, "Hi, this is X and I can't come to the phone right now because I'm turning down N.C. State."

    But turn-downs real and imagined won't matter if the Wolfpack hires the right man.

     Sidney Lowe was the wrong man. If he had succeeded, we wouldn't be talking about the coaches that rejected the job before it became his.

     I don't know how many have said no since Lowe went away. There are still outstanding candidates available, among them Shaka Smart of Virginia Commonwealth and Gregg Marshall of Wichita State.

     Some N.C. State supporters might want bigger names. Many fans are hung up on big names. If he ain't famous, he ain't for us.

      But Smart has his team in the Final Four and Marshall's team just won the NIT.

      I don't know Smart. I spent time with Marshall, who is from Greenwood, S.C., when he coached at Winthrop. Went to his house. Intense guy. His dream job then was Charlotte.

     Marshall can recruit and coach and has long had major college hair.

     He also has the quality all leaders must -- his players believe that if they do what he asks, they'll win.

    And they do.