Rory Sabbatini

Brilliance seemed innate. Sabbatini began playing at age 4 with his father, Frank, a family doctor in Durban; his mother; and older brother (by seven years), Gary. (Rory also has an older sister, Shelley.) "Rory was always extremely well-coordinated, had tremendous ball sense in any sport," says his mother. Sabbatini remembers his first junior tournament at age 8, and winning long-drive contests that included older boys.

Sabbatini grew up admiring Seve Ballesteros for his virtuosity, and indeed, Sabbatini's raw ability is considered in the ultimate league. Along with being ambidextrous (Sabbatini has occasionally putted left-handed in competition), he has the entire prodigy arsenal of full shots off his knees, massive curves and amazing mega-flops with wedges. "You could always find Rory either on the range blasting drivers, or around the practice green trying to spin the ball back," says Clark. "He loves extreme shots."

"He's got some of the greatest hands in the game," says Reinmuth, who gave Sabbatini his first formal lesson in 1998, the year Rory turned pro. "He can hit any kind of shot with a wedge. From the sand, he might be better than either Phil or Tiger. Rory's biggest problem was a lack of refinement with the long game. He hit everything hard, took huge, deep divots. But the more he picks up the off-speed shot, the better player he's becoming." The lack of refinement showed most in majors, which until his second-place finish at this year's Masters (he briefly led in the final round after an eagle on the par-5 eighth before bogeys on the 14th and 16th) were a wasteland for Sabbatini: only nine cuts made in 21 attempts and a best finish of T-26 at the 2006 British.

But Sabbatini has lately come to appreciate course management, hitting more 3-woods off the tee and swinging with more control with his irons. "Our philosophy is 'safe lines, good swings,' says Sabbatini's good friend, caddie and swing coach, Kevin Fasbender, a former assistant professional at Starr Pass in Tucson. "We're coming off more pins, not firing at everything, and his swing's becoming more compact, with a lot less movement. It's a matter of controlling every shot and knowing where that club is with a shorter swing, rather than just taking a big lash at it with the big reverse-C finish, which is what he used to do. As far as his head, he's a firecracker, but I'm really mellow, so maybe we balance each other out." According to Sabbatini, the swing improvement has been a direct result of the first serious fitness program, with trainer Jeff Banaszak, he has ever committed to.

"My swing was always dependent on timing," says Sabbatini. "When it was on, I hit it great; when it wasn't, I hit it awful. Jeff has corrected that by nullifying my weak body parts. I'm so much more stable that I can hold my golf posture through the swing and repeat the right body positions without worrying about timing. So basically my bad days now are where my good days used to be, and my good days are way beyond. It's been huge."

Of course, until he wins more often, and especially begins performing to his ability in majors, Sabbatini will continue to be known as the failed Tiger tamer. But he says he won't change his pre-round rap the next time they have a showdown, despite urging from fellow players to cool it. "To be bold and brash and say, 'I'm going to go out and whip his ass,' I don't think there are enough lunch pails in the world to bring," says Beem. Sabbatini, not surprisingly, takes the opposite tack. "If what I say makes him play better, great," he says. "You know, I'd rather beat Tiger at his best than at his worst. If you went back and asked Johnny Miller or anybody, 'Would they rather just beat Jack Nicklaus, or beat Jack Nicklaus at his best?' you know what they would say."

Sabbatini grins, obviously eager for the chance to make a second impression. "Sure, the whole Tiger thing, I've taken some grief," he says. "But all it's really done for me is given me more desire to play harder and play better and prove myself even more."