Crenshaw is, but nobody is as good as Johnny Miller right now. What Miller did was start the back side in the same catch-fire way he frequently does things. He birdied the 10th. Then the 12th. Then the 13th. Then the 15th. He was never in danger of losing. His 68 and 272 brought him in three strokes ahead of Crenshaw.
Through it all, Miller was relaxed and outgoing as he tried to put his low-key personality in a better, clearer perspective for the anxious, waiting, questioning world. He chatted in the locker room with friends around, and he chatted in the dining room with his wife and two small children around, and he chatted through the constant interruptions that befall a star.
"Uh, you're Johnny Miller, right?" said a big-voiced radio man one day in the locker room. "We need you for five or 10 minutes."
Miller looked up. "Well, I'm busy and you're interrupting," he said.
The man left and Miller turned back to a friend.
"I wasn't rude," he said, accurately enough. "He was rude and I was being honest."
A constant theme with Miller is the mind—he often asks more questions than he is asked—and what that mind has instructed him to scribble down on an old envelope.
"I've known how to play golf for a long time," he says. "I started when I was five. I don't practice anymore. Look at these hands. No calluses. What I do is warm up. In between, I read my envelope."
On the envelope is a litany of reminders, all of which help the tall, stylish 26-year-old turn "muscle memory" into winning golf. For instance:
"Accelerate the whole club."