January was something else. This tall, freckled Texan, who has been ambling slowly over the fairways of pro golf for more than a decade looking more like a lean, incorruptible sheriff than an athlete, had started the day four strokes behind Sikes. His easy, flowing swing was keeping the ball on the fairways, and his putting was consistent, but that is the way Don has played for years. You never expect to see him raise a sweat either on himself or the gallery. But January suddenly hit a hot streak at the 14th hole, where TV viewers from Boston to Belfast saw him go birdie, birdie, par, birdie, par for a 68 that gained him a tie with Massengale.
So there they were, a couple of Joes—or rather Dons—named January and Massengale, playing for one of the most treasured trophies in golf while all the famous Arnies and Jacks went home to wait for next year. Not a likely parlay for a playoff, maybe, but after a flood, a hailstorm and a feud, who could really expect anything but an improbable ending?