Masters Report: Serious Business

"Whether I would have won, I don't know," Immelman added in regard to his lay-up strategy, "But it definitely helps to come in before the tournament and [determine] certain lines off the tees, the shape you want to hit and where you need to lay up. It was so beneficial for me to jot it all down in my yardage book and be thoroughly prepared for whatever was thrown at me."

In the final analysis, it wasn't exactly a ton. Immelman is a very likable guy and a deserving champion when all the data is run through the ringer, but a slower player you will not find. His ultra-deliberate pace could not have helped Snedeker, who is usually quick to the ball and over it but fell out of his rhythm playing with the sluggish South African. The duo was put on the clock at least once in the final round -- God forbid the next twosome that takes five hours to play, regardless of what's at stake.

"They were nice to us," Snedeker's caddie, Scott Vail, said of officials accompanying the final group. "They started timing us around the 14th, but that's no excuse. We knew going in what the deal would be."

Snedeker was rather emotional afterward, struggling to cope with a 77 that included an eagle at the par-5 second, which earned him a share of the lead, and the nine bogeys that led him in the opposite direction. "I think I'd put myself in a psychiatric ward," he joked of the competitive mood swings. "I went from extreme highs to extreme lows, and that's what you don't want to do around here."

Sounds like another good reason not to roll the dice at what used to be the game's most fabled risk parlor. Nike boss Wood referred to Immelman as "really self-contained, very intense inward," traits most evident at the beginning and end of Amen Corner. After a solid drive at the 11th, he lost his approach way right -- down where Larry Mize chipped in before Club Killjoy elevated the green to the level of a third-story apartment building. Immelman tried to bump his third but could do no better than the right fringe, leaving himself a mach-speed 18-footer with double bogey written all over it.

He holed that slippery devil to save par, yanked his tee shot at the par-3 12th and made bogey, then laid up as promised at the par-5 13th. From there, Immelman finessed a baby wedge from 83 yards off the slope behind the pin, applying moderate spin that left him with a kick-in birdie and got him back to 10 under. Moments earlier, Snedeker had gone for the 13th in two but instead paid a return visit to Rae's Creek, a miss almost identical to the one he'd whipped out Saturday.

At that point, Trevor had never looked better, although it must be nice to shoot a 75, knock it in the water on the 16th and still win by three. Not that anybody else would know. As that final pairing trudged up the 17th fairway at exactly 7 p.m., a gust of wind roared across the fairway from right to left, blowing off the headwear of a half-dozen or so patrons pressed against the gallery rope. It was a fitting touch. Hats off to Immelman, however the job might have been done.

When the Masters was fun ...

CBS preceded Sunday's final-round broadcast with the latest installment of "Jim Nantz Remembers," a one-hour show that looks back at a memorable Masters by re-airing a truncated version of the original network broadcast. This year, Nantz and his producers chose Gary Player's 1978 triumph as their subject, which turned out to be a fortuitous selection, and not just because Player's fellow South African and protégé, Trevor Immelman, went on to win the 2008 Masters later that evening.

It was a reminder of another era at the Masters, before the extensive renovations to Augusta National robbed the tournament of the low-scoring fireworks -- particularly the tension-choked final rounds fraught with birdies and eagles -- that set it apart from the other major championships. If you are in the camp that hated the new Augusta National course setup before you watched Sunday's 1978 replay, reliving Player's win brought tears to your eyes. If you aren't, watching the show probably made you a convert. That's what happened to me, for three reasons:

Photo: AP

1) Player, three under par and seven shots behind Hubert Green starting the final round, shot a final-round 64 to win. He closed with a back-nine 30, and birdied seven of the last 10 holes. The 64 was then, and remains to this day (with all due respect to Jack Nicklaus in 1986 and Nick Faldo in 1996), the greatest Sunday rally by a Masters champion. The way Augusta National plays now, it looks like it might never be topped.

2) There was a back-and-forth quality to the scoring that was beyond exciting, bordering on excruciating: Player birdied 13, 15 and 16. Tom Watson eagled 13. Green birdied 13. Rod Funseth birdied 13. Watson birdied 15. Player birdied 18 (and pumped his fist and was embraced by his playing partner, 21-year-old Seve Ballesteros, overcome with emotion). Green birdied 15. What old-school Masters fans waxed nostalgic for most last week were the roars they used to hear for birdies and eagles. I heard a lot of them Sunday afternoon -- on the 1978 broadcast, but not the 2008 version.

3) Even though the greens (still Bermuda grass) were noticeably slower, bumpier and grainier than today's surfaces, putting -- good and bad -- determined the outcome. At the beginning of the telecast, right up until Player's spine-tingling putt at 18, no one could miss. But down the stretch, the putts stopped dropping. At the 14th green (then as now the wickedest on the course), Watson three-putted from six feet for bogey and Funseth whiffed a three-footer for par. Later, Watson fell out of a tie with Player when he missed a six-footer for par on the last green. Green blew a four-footer on the 16th green to lose a share of the lead and then -- the most stunning miss of all -- pushed a three-footer for birdie on the last hole that would have tied Player and forced the first sudden-death playoff in Masters history.

Maybe I'm generalizing, but it told me that no matter how fast or slow the greens, pressure will always be a factor on putting at a major championship. So why do we have to be so silly about green speeds today?

There have been many great final-round dramas in Masters history, but 1978 was one of the best -- and a much more riveting TV show than the one that followed it Sunday afternoon. Even if, like me, you already knew the outcome.

-- Geoff Russell