Flight Plans

Clark's Open hopes ended when a long putt failed to drop on the 72nd hole.

Despite the polite audience, there were renditions of the Woods Wave. When Tiger plays, galleries tend to move onward whenever he completes a hole, as though he were a onesome. On Thursday two rather accomplished Clemson products -- Byrd and Lucas Glover -- were Zach's sidekicks and, thus, occasional victims of being deemed invisible.

"They love him here," said Deere tournament director Clair Peterson, who notes that Johnson faithfully partakes in board meetings. He has been a member for several years, and despite his travels, Johnson plugs into conference calls. "He's no figurehead," said Peterson. "We bounce stuff off him, and he lets us know what the guys on tour are thinking and what we can do to make this better." Johnson mingled with dozens of youngsters Tuesday during and after a practice round. He was the star of the pro-am Wednesday, after explaining how he got in to a gentleman from Chile. The visitor to the Quad Cities, upon discovering what Johnson did, asked whether he had ever done anything worthwhile. Zach bashfully replied that, yes, he had won this little invitational at Augusta National last April. For Round One of the Deere, Johnson wore a pale green shirt. Not green jacket green, or even Deere tractor green. A pea sort of green, but a number of spectators and peers took note. He also took 31 putts, too many.

On a spectacular Friday afternoon, with his working parents in from Cedar Rapids to watch, Johnson birdied the 10th to reach three under. But he then bogeyed three of the next four holes -- the coup de gras at No. 14, a short par 4 where his tee ball found a fairway bunker. Johnson then drilled his second -- "purest shot I hit on the back nine" -- into the woods, well beyond the green. He took two hacks to exit the shrubbery, and an hour later by the scoring van, was still searching for a sense of feel. "I've got some things to work on, obviously," concluded Johnson. Among those is his physical fitness regimen with trainer Chris Noss. Johnson has added muscle to his frame, if you look closely. "I'm teetering between 160 and 165 pounds," he said. "I'd like to get to 175. It's not because I don't eat that I can't get there. I eat a lot, and often, and I like a beer here and there too. Where I'd like to add strength is my legs. I have skinny legs. No calves. Not much in the thighs either."

Johnson's homecoming wasn't quite as hectic as Mike Weir's Canadian Open after he won the 2003 Masters. That was a national holiday. The "Iowa thing" as Johnson describes it is more of a visceral appreciation by genuine folks for one of their own. There were plenty of green T-shirts in his honor: "I'm Zach Johnson and I'm from Cedar Rapids, Iowa" emblazoned on the front. On the back, a time-line from youthful days at the club to high school to college and beyond: "Elmcrest Junior, Regis Royal, Drake Bulldog, Masters Champion, IOWAN."

Zach's brother, Gabe, produced those, proceeds to Zach and wife Kim's charity. Gabe lives in Chicago near Wrigley Field, where Zach will toss out the ceremonial first pitch before the Cubs-Dodgers' game and sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh-inning stretch Sept. 4. That's the week of the BMW Championship at Cog Hill G &CC, where the Western Open used to be before a FedEx truck delivered a playoff package. "Gabe is a huge Cubs fan," Zach said. "He's really pumped about me going there. I'm already getting instructions on what to do and how to sound like Harry Caray. A lot of nice things have happened to me since the Masters, and when they take my time up, I think to myself it's a nice problem to have. But the Cubs' game with Gabe watching me pitch and sing, that's pressure."