Phil good story

Mickelson cements People's Champion title with stunning Masters win

By Gary Van Sickle, SI.com

AUGUSTA, Ga. -- Arnold Palmer played his last Masters the same week that Phil Mickelson won his first Masters.

The king is dead. Long live the king.

The scoring cabin was tiny, no bigger than a backyard toolshed, really. It was painted green, like most everything else here that stands still, not including time. It was as good as a castle in the dim Sunday evening light and clearly, a king awaited inside.

People gathered around it by the thousands -- 30 and 40 deep. They had no chance of actually catching a glimpse of Mickelson. They waited, really, just for the chance to cheer him, shout his name and rejoice with him.

The moment the cabin door cracked an inch, a roar as loud as any ever heard in Amen Corner exploded across the first tee and over the storied Augusta National clubhouse. Mickelson, the newly crowned royalty, poked his head out and was immediately met by his wife, Amy, who pushed their oldest daughter, Amanda, into his arms. The crowd roared again for several long moments, then went briefly quiet as Mickelson waded into a spectrum of waiting television cameras and microphones.

During the momentary lull, one fan shouted, "Say something, Phil! The monkey's gone!" The crowd applauded, yelled encouragement and buzzed like a telephone wire. "How 'bout that?" one man excitedly asked a friend as they pushed through the gathering. "Unbelievable. This is some kind of friggin' misty-eye situation, I tell you!"

Meet Phil Mickelson, the People's Champion.

There will never be another Arnie, but the man known as Lefty may be the closest thing this generation is going to get in terms of popularity. The scene outside the scoring cabin after his sentimental, scintillating victory was proof enough. You couldn't see Mickelson through the crowd. You could hear him, though, because a continual roar followed him as he made his way to the Butler Cabin for the traditional televised presenting of the green jacket and the sound flowed like Rae's Creek after a heavy rain.

Tiger Woods is, and has been, a great champion. He has inspired the world with his amazing skills and has become not only the most famous golfer, but one of the most famous residents of Earth. The public doesn't really know him, though, its perception of him created almost entirely from the commercials he has done. He is admired and respected, but he is not loved. Not like Arnie. Not like Phil.

Phil could be the People's Champion because he's the All-American boy who married the blonde, All-American girl and is living the All-American dream, or because the half-smile permanently plastered on his face makes him seem like he's having as much fun playing golf as we do, or because he turned into golf's biggest underdog after so many close calls that built him into the Best Player Who Never Won a Major. Now, at 33, he's got his green jacket, a new level of respect and a new level of adoration.

It was quite an ending for a tournament that has to rank among the most exciting Masters in modern history. Somebody pass the goosebumps, please. Has there ever been a Masters Sunday like this?

Ernie Els made a gallant and stunning charge with eagles at the eighth and 13th holes, and then what seemed to be a clinching birdie at the par-5 15th. Korea's K.J. Choi started a back-nine charge by holing a 220-yard 5-iron shot on the newly toughened 11th. His shot landed on the green and rolled straight for the pin like a putt, kissed the pin and went in, sparking the stoic Korean to jump, then dance and give his caddie a smooth high-five.

Padraig Harrington made a hole-in-one at the par-3 16th hole, watching his shot land halfway up the shelf on the right side, then inexorably roll toward the pin and drop in the cup. He couldn't stop laughing on the tee. Minutes later, Kirk Triplett, playing in the next twosome, did an instant replay, pretty much duplicating the shot, the line and the result. He fell down and lay on his back in happy disbelief, before he was helped up.

Sergio Garcia was hopelessly out of contention when he doubled the sixth hole to go to five over par, 12 shots off the lead. Then he birdied the next three holes, eagled the 15th, birdied the 16th and 17th and posted the tournament's low round of the week, 66.

Bernhard Langer, at 46, made a run at his third Masters, tying for the lead briefly on the front nine and moving to within two shots of Els with a birdie at the 14th before he dropped back when scuffed a chip-out from the trees at the 15th, then watched helplessly as his long approach landed on the front bank of the green and rolled back into the water, picking up speed before the sickening splash.

The duel between Els and Mickelson was one for the ages. Mickelson looked as if he was in meltdown mode on the front, missing a short par putt on the third hole, leaving a bunker shot in the bunker at the fifth and gassing a chip well past the hole at the sixth and making bogeys. He gutted out a clutch putt at the 10th hole to save par, however, pumped his fist and turned his day around. Els had already hit the shot of the day once, a hooked 5-iron around the trees at the par-5 eighth that bounded onto the right fringe, trickled onto the putting surface and caught the slope, rolling down to five feet for an eagle. He did much the same at the 13th, hitting a shot behind the hole and playing the slope, leaving himself an eight-footer for eagle.

All Mickelson did was shoot 31 on the back nine, the lowest score by a winner since somebody named Nicklaus blistered a 30 in 1986 -- you may remember that occasion. This Sunday was almost as good as that one. It was certainly every bit as loud.

The changes to the golf course to toughen it up supposedly made the back nine invincible and scoring like this impossible, but Sunday just showed that if you give Tour players a day with no wind and perfect greens, they'll light it up, guaranteed.

"It was unbelievable," Els said. "That's probably the loudest I've ever heard it. It was quite loud in '98 when I played with Jack, especially when he made a few birdies on the front nine. It was exciting. If you were watching on television, it must have been good. Kirk made that 1 in front of us on 16 -- I never saw the shot but I heard that roar, and then K.J. on 11, that ball never left the flag. It was great golf."

It was high drama and came down to two popular, personable players -- Els and Mickelson. The day's second loudest roared had to be the one at 16 when Mickelson sank a 20-footer for birdie to tie Els at eight under par.

The loudest was saved for the finish. After Mickelson split the 18th fairway with a perfect 3-wood shot -- notice the shrewd course management; he left his driver in the bag to avoid bringing the fairway bunkers into play -- he hit a shot over the flagstick to 20 feet above the hole. He caught a break when Chris DiMarco, with whom he was paired, hit a shot from the front bunker that stopped three inches behind his ball. Mickelson got a complete look at the line when DiMarco's putt curled past the left edge of the cup and just missed. Mickelson's ball caught the left edge of the cup, danced around part of the rim and then fell in and the place erupted.

Paul Casey, who played in front of Mickelson's group with Langer, watched the putt from the scoring trailer. "Bernhard was giving me the line," Casey said. "I wished he'd given me a few lines during the round. Phil helped me enormously when I was at Arizona State. Ernie had an unbelievable round of golf but Phil just finished it in style."

Mickelson thought he knew why, explaining it to the crowd who stayed for the official award ceremony by the practice green.

"My grandfather collected flags from all my victories but had told me he didn't want any more tour tournaments, he only wanted majors," Mickelson told the crowd. "He passed away this January but the last time I talked to him, he said, 'This is your year.' Chris' putt caught the ledge edge of the cup and went past. Mine caught the left edge and fell in. I can't help but think that he had something to do with that."

Mickelson drew a cheer with that story, another cheer when he talked about his wife, Amy, and their three kids.

"I have one final thing to say to the Augusta National members," he said. "Please get used to me because I'm going to be back here every year."

CBS announcer Lanny Wadkins, a former PGA champion, stood in front of the clubhouse as Mickelson finished his speech. Asked when last he'd had this much fun at a tournament, Wadkins replied, "Not since I was winning."

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"I'll remember this day forever," Mickelson said later, wearing the green jacket as he met with writers for a press conference and couldn't stop smiling. "It was surreal. I keep running over that last putt in my head, and that putt on 16. It feels almost like make-believe."

When he came off the 18th green earlier, he hugged his wife, then picked up his daughters, one by one. As he held little Sophia, a pacifier in her mouth, he told her with wide eyes, "Daddy won! Can you believe it?"

The People's Champion has a green jacket and the fan behind the 18th green has it right. It was, indeed, some kind of friggin' misty-eyed situation.