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"Nice place to win," said the fan.
Actually, Janzen is something of a Jersey boy. He spent some of his Wonder Years in nearby Martinsville, until his family moved to Florida when he was 14. He took up golf in Florida only to get over his disappointment that the Little League season stopped in May. An odd reason, perhaps, but there are a lot of curious things about Janzen. He plumb-bobs shots with his driver and long irons as if they were putts. He endorses a nonalcoholic beer. (A nonalcoholic beer? In Jersey?) He has been tutored by former ABC sports correspondent Andrea Kirby in the fine art of being interviewed. He wears button-down golf shirts and has a button-down mind. He is a math whiz. He keeps a map of the course in his pocket and charts the wind direction on it. "I'll ask him, 'What do you think the wind is doing here?" says his Tour buddy Rocco Mediate. "And he'll say, 'Well, it was in our face on number 3, and now we've turned to the east, so it must be left to right.' And I always think, 'Why don't I do that?' "
But on Sunday, Janzen was in unmapped territory. "Last night he had two margaritas," said his five-months pregnant wife, Beverly.
Margaritas with alcohol.
By 11:30 Saturday night he was in bed and taking no more calls, which was too bad, because a very good one came.
"Who's this?" said the caller.
"Mendy," said Janzen's 19-year-old stepdaughter. "Who's this?"
"Charles Barkley," came the reply. "Will you tell Lee something for me? Tell him to kick butt tomorrow [Sunday] just like we're going to kick butt." Just a little neighborly encouragement; Janzen is building a house near Sir Charles's in Arizona's Paradise Valley.
As things started out, Janzen didn't look much like he was going to kick butt. He looked like he was going to revisit his lunch. Stewart was on him like static cling. By the start of the back nine all other contenders had fallen away, but Stewart was still within one shot. Janzen block-faded his drive halfway to Hoboken on the 10th. Between his ball and the green lay one of the oldest, fattest and fullest oaks in all of Baltusrol. Janzen hit a clunky five-iron much too low to make it over the old tree. The ball was headed straight into the oak and the land of 6s and 7s. Said Janzen later, "I'm thinking, Well, that's probably going to bounce deeper into the trees, and I'm going to make double bogey. Better bear down on these last eight holes."
But just then he heard a wonderful sound.