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The Week: Masters of Disaster Final-round gaffes proved that even winners can look sillyBy Alan Shipnuck
 It was fitting that Sunday was Mother's Day, because a pair of prominent players produced victories that only a mother could love. At the inaugural Wachovia Championship in Charlotte, David Toms played textbook golf for 71 holes, building a six-stroke lead that he nearly frittered away on the last hole. Toms blew his drive 50 yards right into the trees, chipped out into a hazard, took two more whacks to reach the green and then four-putted for an absurd quadruple-bogey 8 that perversely ended a 19-month victory drought. That Van de Veldian nuttiness was topped by Hale Irwin at the Kinko's Classic in Austin. Irwin made a double bogey on the third hole playing lefthanded out of a hazard, but that was just the warm-up act. On 6 he whiffed a one-inch putt and then, on the second try, barely nudged the ball, which somehow stayed out of the hole. Somehow Irwin shook off this calamitous triple bogey, and on the 18th he clanged a sand shot off the flagstick that, had it dropped, would have won the tournament outright. He barely survived the ensuing playoff's first hole, in which Tom Watson doinked a shot sideways off a tree and then lipped out a bunker shot that would've ended the whole affair. Irwin leaked in an eight-footer for birdie on the next hole for his first victory of the season.
"That was one of the most bizarre days in my entire career," he said. "If somebody can explain how I did what I did and still won, I'd really appreciate it." As an alibi Irwin offered the oldest cliché in the book -- "That's golf" -- but it seemed somehow revelatory. In a game that's equal parts physics and voodoo, sometimes there simply is no explanation. Asked to account for his final-hole implosion, Toms said, "My plan was to make a birdie and finish off in style." Right. For Toms, 36, the last couple of seasons have been paradoxical: During his winless streak he has become a better player. The low-key Louisianan had a breakthrough year in 2001, winning three times, including the PGA Championship. Last year his game reached a higher level, as he rang up 12 top 10s, finished second in the Tour's all-around statistic and starred in the Ryder Cup. Yet he was so haunted by not winning, Toms says, "My attitude has not been the most positive in the world the last six months." His secret this week? "I felt at peace." Maybe too much so. Toms said he "wasn't even nervous" playing the 72nd hole. To his playing partner Kirk Triplett it looked like he might have been too relaxed. "I wanted to take his pulse," Triplett says. "I've seen a finish like that to lose, but never to win." Irwin, meanwhile, can now say he's won and lost with "air balls," his term for those itsy-bitsy putts he has a flair for missing. The 6th hole on Sunday was déjô vu of the 1983 British Open, in which he whiffed a similar putt in the final round and finished a stroke behind the victorious Watson. "That's embarrassing," Watson said of Irwin's most recent hiccup. "But that shows you how good Hale is. He can whiff it twice and still win the tournament. I guess he got me back today." Irwin was in no mood to gloat. He knows that winning is a fragile, mysterious process. It's also usually the ultimate bottom line, but Sunday's results exploded another golf cliché -- "It's not how, it's how many" -- as both Toms and Irwin were forced to reconcile inglorious ends to momentous achievements. Toms told reporters after his eighth career victory, "I know all you guys want to talk about [is 18], but I want to talk about how I dominated the tournament for 71 holes." Irwin sounded even more desperate to enjoy his winning moment. "I want to concentrate on the thrill of victory," he said, "not the agony of the whiff." O.B.: Lord Tryon's Royal Ride •Mercedes provided courtesy cars for the players at the Wachovia Championship but told Ty Tryon, 18, that he had to be 21 to get behind the wheel. Aghast, tournament director Kim Hougham contacted Quail Hollow member Felix Sabates, one of Charlotte's leading citizens. Sabates presented his private fleet of luxury cars to Tryon and told the Tour sophomore to borrow whichever car he wanted for the week. Naturally, Tryon selected a shiny black Rolls-Royce. "He said, 'We'll show them, not giving you a car,'" says Tryon, who in all likelihood became the first golfer to bump a Lil' Flip CD in a Rolls. "At first I was really nervous to drive it. When you're 18 and driving a Rolls, you feel like you should have 'Lord' in your name." •Nick Price's election to the Hall of Fame was announced last week, and Frank Lickliter wasted no time in congratulating him. "I thought you had to be dead to get in there," Lickliter said. Price's retort: "Not quite." •The coordinating producer for golf at CBS Sports, Lance Barrow, returned to Quail Hollow with fond memories. Barrow caddied there at the 1975 Kemper Open for Tour pro Jim Simons, earning the princely sum of $350 for the week. •Ben Crenshaw had a familiar face on his bag at last week's Kinko's Classic -- Carl Jackson, the Augusta National caddie who steered Gentle Ben to two Masters titles. Looking to raise a pulse in his moribund Champions tour career, Crenshaw recently fired his longtime looper, Linn (Growler) Strickler, and he will use Jackson indefinitely. Issue date: May 19, 2003
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