Watson knocks in the putt to win the 76th Masters. He dissolves, sobbing, into the arms of his caddie and then his mother.
Angie: Oh, yeah, we shed a few tears too. But Amy still got that picture I wanted of Caleb and me with Bubba on the TV! I love that picture.
Oosthuizen: It's horrible, losing at Augusta like that. I felt sick for a few days. My caddie and I couldn't speak to each other; we felt we could burst out in tears at any moment. There's no comfort in losing to a shot like that. The hurt is the same. It's just the way it goes—if I won it, I'd probably have the best shot in Masters history, with my four-iron on 2. But he won it, so now he has the best shot in Masters history.
Watson: So many things had to happen exactly right for me to be able to play that shot. What if my ball rolls another five feet down the hill? What if there was a big ol' branch hanging down in front of me? You could say it was luck, you could say it was fate, call it whatever you want. But that's the mystique of the Masters.