Bridesmaid Revisited

He did, leading through three rounds of the '86 U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills, in Southampton, N.Y., in June. But Raymond Floyd was the winner. No problem, though; Norman was still in command, as he showed that July, when he won the British Open at Turnberry. It was the breakthrough everyone had been waiting for.

But at the 1986 PGA Championship at Inverness Club, in Toledo, Bob Tway sank a bunker shot at the 72nd hole for birdie to beat him. Norman watched, stunned, from a few feet away. It was a once-in-a-lifetime shot—except that something very much like it happened at the 1987 Masters. As Norman stood nearby, Larry Mize chipped in from 140 feet to beat him on the second hole of sudden death. It was an incredible and unprecedented double whammy, one man victimized by two miracle shots in back-to-back majors. Someone of fainter heart might have concluded then and there that his career was star-crossed.

But Norman is not the brooding type. Surrender to grim fate? Not on your life, mate.

"When it happened against Tway, it didn't affect me all that much," Norman says. "Bob made a great shot to beat me, and an even better shot on the hole before to make par and stay close. The Mize thing stayed with me for a while longer. No doubt, if Mize had come before Tway, it would have been Tway that stayed with me.... [The Mize shot] stayed with me because I was trying to prove to everybody that it wasn't staying with me. I talked to my wife, Laura, about it. There was something seriously wrong with me, and she put her finger right on it. She said I was trying too hard. It was a load off my mind when I finally was man enough to admit it to myself."

Norman hasn't exactly done a disappearing act since then, though he has done a slight fade. He was the PGA Tour's top money-winner in 1986 and finished seventh in winnings in '87. Last year, despite missing nearly two months with a wrist injury incurred at the U.S. Open, he had seven top-10 finishes in 14 tournaments and won $514,854 to finish 17th on the money list. All the while, he has played a good part of each season abroad, winning seven tournaments in Australia and Europe since 1987. Yet there he was at Augusta two weeks ago, digging himself into a hole during the first two rounds. "If I can ever figure out how to start quicker here, I might win this s.o.b.," he said. Norman wound up having to explain once again why he came close, but got no cigar.

Inevitably, he is compared with Tom Weiskopf, who parlayed his magnificent swing and special ball-striking ability into but one major triumph, the 1973 British Open at Troon. Weiskopf finished second in the Masters on four occasions (twice to Nicklaus) and generally underwhelmed those waiting for him to become a dominant golfer.

"No doubt I should have won more," the 46-year-old Weiskopf says. "But golf was never my top priority, and I don't apologize for that. Greg and I have similarities. He's big and strong too. And a so-so putter, like I was, who can get it going on occasion. Where he has the edge on me is upstairs. He's not as emotional. Greg wants to be the best, no doubt about it, and I wish it to him.

"But to be the best, you have to be a motivated, selfish, egotistical, demanding perfectionist. There's no question Greg is motivated, demanding and a perfectionist. But I give him lower marks on selfishness and ego, as far as golfs concerned. In life, Greg is a great guy, a man's man, who cares about friends and spends a lot of quality time with them and his family. He might not be mean enough to be the best in a cutthroat business, which is O.K. as far as I'm concerned. That was never a priority of mine, to be the best golfer in the world at all costs. I don't know about Greg. He's not a phony. He's a whole person who enjoys having a beer with friends and fishing with his kids. Is that bad? You tell me."

So that's one theory as to why Norman's potential remains his greatest asset: The Shark doesn't have the killer instinct required to be a truly great golfer.

"Well," he says, "I do want to be the best golfer in the world. Very much so. But I am a nice guy, and I also want to be that. Very much so. You know, when I don't win, I feel worse for the people who root for me than for myself. I feel as though I've let them down. But I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I came from very little, and I've done remarkably well, surrounded by great people, starting with Laura. We just celebrated reaching [an annual income of] eight figures. I'm not comfortable, though. I'm driven to win.