FROM THE GALLERY
By Dan Miller
April 10, 2008
On Tuesday I spent a full day at the Augusta National, where some of the world's best golfers were practicing for the Masters.
Joining me on my little adventure down south were my pals Rudy Kalis and Terry Bulger.
We watched in awe as Tiger Woods, Phil Mickelson, Gary Player, Tom Watson and others did something most of us only fantasize about... That is... hitting a little white ball and having it come to a stop exactly where you're aiming for it to come to a stop.
These players are fascinating to watch, though sometimes the folks in the gallery can be just as interesting.
More than once we found ourselves discussing an annoying little gallery ritual that seems to be growing in popularity.
If you ever watch golf on TV, or stand in the crowd at a tournament, you've heard them.
I'm talking about the louder-than-necessary guys (hardly ever women) who stand behind the ropes at every tee.
They wait patiently and quietly for each golfer to address his tee shot, then -- a micro-second after the club connects with the ball -- their voices ring out... "Great shot!" ... "In the hole!"...
"Alright!"... "Atta way Phil!"... "Yeahhh!"... "You're the man Tiger!"... and countless other little exclamations of admiration.
Truthfully, if I were a player trying to stay focused on hitting the ball -- I think the sheer anticipation of the looming vocal barrage from the gallery would impact my swing, and certainly my follow-through.
Heck, I might even miss the ball completely... (an empty sensation I'm somewhat familiar with).
But, occasionally, just when you're braced to endure the irritating shrieks of loud-mouthed spectators, comes something like this.
As we stood next to the rope surrounding the 14th tee, Mark O'Meara -- who won at Augusta in 1998 -- teed off with a beautiful, towering drive straight down the middle, and out of sight.
Amazingly, none of the usual shouts from the crowd was heard... until the sweet voice of a child... no more than 3 years old... broke through the silence with, "Nice shot Mr. O'Meara."
A collective, hearty chuckle swelled up from the gallery.... and even Mark O'Meara himself couldn't suppress a wide grin that quickly turned into laughter.
Before heading down the fairway, O'Meara went to his golf bag... took out a shiny new ball... autographed it... walked over to the gallery and handed it to the little boy, who was nestled in his father's arms. The gallery applauded.
It was a nice moment.
Mark O'Meara was appreciative of, what had to be, the sweetest little "shout out" he'd heard from any gallery.
And he now has at least two new fans hoping he'll do well... maybe even take home another green jacket.... that little boy, and me.
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