One Magical Sunday Read online

Now I was the one who was teed off! So we sat everybody down at the table and said to them: “We’ll be right back!”

  Philip’s father and I then drove down to Stardust, checked with the starter, and asked what hole he might be on. “He’s probably on #3 by now,” came the reply. So we walked out to the third green.

  Philip was in the fairway when he saw us coming. He put his golf club back in his bag. Then he started shaking hands with the other three guys in his foursome and began walking toward us. We all walked over to the car and drove back to the house. Nobody said a word the entire time.

  Finally, as we were pulling into the driveway, I turned around and looked at him. “Philip,” I said, “there are some things that are more important than golf. This is family and we have to be here for this.”

  “Yes, I understand,” he said. “From my point of view, however—as Ben Hogan says: ‘Every day that you don’t practice is one day longer before you achieve greatness.’”

  That struck a chord with me—and Phil did not get punished.

  Mary Mickelson

  As I step into the bunker on #4, I’m looking to see how far past the hole I can hit the ball. There’s a little upslope there and I know it will roll back down. I know I have a huge margin of error. I’m going to try to hit the shot as soft as I can and fly it well over the front edge of the green so that I don’t risk leaving it in the bunker. I have to keep in mind, however, that the sand at Augusta is very inconsistent. Sometimes it is very heavy and I go right underneath it. On the other hand, sometimes it’s very thin and it comes out too fast.

  As I swing through this ball, I miss it slightly. It flies long, but still catches the slope, rolls right back down, and stops three feet from the hole—inside my circle. Even though it’s a downhill putt, I haven’t missed one of these all year. I’m very confident as I step up and knock it in for a par.

  Chris DiMarco, however, bogeyed the hole—and now I have a one shot lead.

  PLAYER

  SCORE

  HOLE

  Mickelson

  -6

  4

  DiMarco

  -5

  4

  Langer

  -4

  4

  Casey

  -4

  4

  Choi

  -3

  5

  5

  Magnolia

  Par 4

  455 yards

  Dogleg Left

  The 5th at Augusta is a magnificent dogleg left with deep bunkers on the left side of the fairway at the turn. If I use a driver off the tee, I’ll have to make a tentative swing to make certain I don’t hit it in the bunkers—which are 315 yards out. So I take out a 3-wood because I can hit it as hard as I want and not be able to reach those bunkers. I make a good swing and hit it in the left side of the fairway—a good place to be.

  For my second shot, I’ve got a good look at the large, sloping green. There is a back bunker that will catch balls if you hit it too hard. Earlier in the week, Tiger Woods missed the bunker to the right. His ball went down the hill, underneath the trees, and he wound up with an unplayable lie.

  The pin on this green is back right near the bunker. I’ve got a 194-yard shot, so I pull out my 7-iron and decide to hit a hook (left to right for a left-handed golfer). I just want to get it on the green. If I go long, and hit it in the bunker, it’s not that hard a shot to get up and down.

  My swing feels very good, but the ball flies right into the back bunker. I really didn’t want that to happen, but things could have been worse. If I’d aimed for the flag, my ball would have hit right on the down slope, kicked down to the trees, and I would have been looking at double bogey. As it is, I can still make par. I’m not concerned I missed this shot. It was a good miss.

  Walking down the fairway, I glance over at Steve Loy, my friend and business manager. He grins at me and I know just what he’s thinking: “Yeah, not what you wanted. But you’ve been in worse spots.”

  It was January 1991. I was a junior in college. On the 14th hole of the Tucson Open, I hit my drive into a deep gorge way right of the fairway. I was playing as an amateur in this PGA Tour event. Steve Loy was my college coach and caddying for me.

  I remember standing next to Steve, looking down at that ball in what now looked like the deepest “canyon” I’d ever seen. We both agreed that there was no hope. I had to take a penalty drop. What made this shot so traumatic was that it was the final round on Sunday and I was leading the tournament by one shot.

  On my next shot, I hit a 3-iron into another unplayable lie. Another penalty drop. Then I hit a wedge from 131 yards into a bunker behind the green. I blasted it out of the bunker and two putted for a triple bogey 8. All this on an easy par 5 that I could have birdied. As a result, I went from leading the tournament to trailing by two shots with four holes to go. Even though I parred the 15th and 17th holes and birdied the 16th, I found myself in the 18th fairway with a chance to win the tournament if I could make a birdie.

  Phil hit his approach shot up on the green and left himself about a 10-foot putt. He was tied for the lead with Tom Purtzer. Now, remember, Phil was just an amateur, only twenty years old. I thought he was going to be scared to death when he went up there on the green. So I asked him if he wanted me to help him read the putt.

  “No thanks, Coach,” he replied. “I’ve got this. Just get out of the way.”

  And he stepped right up and sank that putt to win the Tucson Open. In doing so, he became one of the very few amateurs ever to win a PGA Tour event.

  Coach Steve Loy, Phil’s Business Manager

  I don’t specifically remember the first time I met Coach Loy. I think it was at a junior golf event somewhere. I do remember him introducing himself as the golf coach at Arkansas. But I was a Southern California boy and knew I was going to college somewhere in the southwest.

  I specifically recall the first time I met Phil. I had just taken the job at Arkansas and was out scouting an AJGA event. I’d heard about this young 15-year-old golfing phenom who had just won his first national junior championship, and I wanted to meet him.

  Phil was walking down the fairway with two cute girls on each side. They were all playing a practice round together. I positioned myself between them and their drives, and when they came walking by, I stepped up. “Hi, Phil,” I said. “I’m Steve Loy, the new golf coach at the University of Arkansas.”

  He barely put his hand out as he was walking by, and he said, “Riiiiight.”

  I guess we both knew that was probably the last time I’d be talking to Phil Mickelson. He wasn’t going to be moving from Southern California to Fayetteville, Arkansas.

  Coach Steve Loy

  Two years after I met him, Coach Loy accepted the position of golf coach at Arizona State University. At that time, I was a junior in high school and looking very closely at attending ASU for college. There were a number of things I liked about the university. First, it had great golf facilities—an 18-hole course with practice ranges that were right on campus. That meant that I would be able to go right from my morning classes to the course without having to take a 30-minute drive. Second, the weather was great in Tempe and I could play golf year round—just like in San Diego. And third, ASU was a good distance from home. Only a six hour drive, I felt I could go back when I wanted, but it was also far enough away that I felt like I was on my own.

  Coach Loy sealed the deal for me. He spent time recruiting me, but he wasn’t pushy in any way. I found him to be a guy who could not only be my coach, but my friend, as well. He had the intelligence and knowledge of the game to make me a better golfer. But I did not feel that he was going to impose his personal swing mechanics or game plan on me. I really thought that Coach Loy at Arizona State University was the right fit for me.

  In college, Phil was a sensation. The cameras and the fans loved him. He had a rolled-up collar, a big smile, and was good looking. He was
every mom’s dream and every girl’s hope.

  In his four years at ASU, Phil tied Ben Crenshaw for most individual NCAA championship victories. As a team, we never finished out of the top three in the nation—and in his junior year, we won the national championship.

  Phil’s teammates called him either “The Roman,” because he was invincible—or “The Franchise,” because he meant so much to the team. Phil was a leader off the course as well as on. He led a good, clean, exemplary lifestyle. He was just a sensational kid.

  Coach Steve Loy

  When I played in the Tucson Open in 1991 during my junior year, the entire family showed up for all four days. My mom and dad, my sister, Tina, and my brother, Tim, were all there. I was also very fortunate to have Coach Loy with me as my caddy. It’s not uncommon for an amateur to have his coach caddy for him. Some people think it puts the golfer in an awkward spot—because the caddy really works for the golfer. But with Coach Loy, there was never any problem. In fact, he would tell me that I was the boss when we were on the course. I just think it was remarkable of him to be able to do that with no ego or insecurity problems.

  During the third round on Saturday, I shot myself into contention with a 29 on the front side. When we came up to the 6th hole (short par 4), I pulled out my driver and drove the green as I’d done the previous two days. To drive it on the green was a risky shot, but I felt it was the right one to make. But I just hit that ball perfectly, knocked it right on the green, and had a putt for eagle.

  Hal Sutton, Phil’s playing partner that day, had laid up short of the trouble. As we were walking down the fairway to his ball, he leaned over to me and said: “You know, Coach, Phil really makes me mad. I’ll sure be glad when he grows up and gets a little fear in his blood!”

  Hal is a great friend of mine, and I laughed at his comment. But one thing I had learned about Phil over the years is that he always tries to hit the shot that can win—as opposed to the shot that will only keep the momentum going.

  Coach Steve Loy

  After I won the Tucson Open, things really changed for me. Before that tournament, not many people came out to watch me play. After that win, it was a good amount. All of a sudden, I was a professional prospect. But I can honesty tell you that I was not yet tempted to leave college and start the PGA Tour. Although there were a number of offers for a lot of cash to turn professional (as well as a few endorsement deals), I thought at the time that it was a shortsighted decision to leave college early. The amount of money I would earn in that last year and a half was nominal compared to what I could earn over the course of a full professional career.

  A college degree is something that you cannot put a price tag on. I learned that at a young age from my parents. They instilled a belief in me that an education was very, very important. When I was growing up, it was never “will I go to college?”—it was “where will I go to college?” So I turned down all the offers and stayed at ASU. I know it was the right decision for me. And these days, when I’m asked to speak to young golfers, I always talk to them about the importance of staying in school and getting their educations. Consistent with our commitment to education, Amy and I formed a partnership with Exxon/Mobil in 2004 to create a national Math and Science Teacher’s Academy based in the Washington, D.C., area.

  I had a great time during that final year and a half of college. And I used the time, in part, to get ready for the PGA Tour. By winning the Tucson Open, I received a three-year exemption—which meant that I did not have to go through the grueling and competitive qualifying schools. I could simply declare myself a professional and enter most tournaments.

  In preparation for turning pro, my family introduced me to Steve Taylor—a distant cousin who is independently wealthy and a financial genius. Steve gave me some of the best advice I’ve ever received—and I live by it to this day. He taught me to create a system of checks and balances—with a business manager, an independent money manager, and an accountant—who would all work together and answer to each other.

  Steve also advised me to take half of my earnings right off the top and set up an account to pay taxes. The other half I should divide three ways. The first third I should place in low-risk, low-return investments. The second third, in high-risk, high-return investments. And the final third should be used for spending money. “What’s the point of having money if you’re not going have some fun and spend it?” said Steve.

  He also recommended that I work on setting up partnerships with people—long-term relationships with those I trusted most. That was a recommendation that I had been thinking about anyway. And it led me right back to Coach Loy, because he was a great friend and I knew he cared about me. Rather than signing with a professional agency, I asked him to become my personal agent and business manager.

  I was forty years old, had two children at home, and was doing very well in my career as a golf coach. But Phil is such a special guy that I determined it was time for me to make a career change. So when he turned pro, I went with him.

  Coach Steve Loy

  The next thing I had to do was find a caddy. I first met Jim Mackay while I was playing a practice round at the Tournament Players Championship in Jacksonville, Florida. Jim wrote me a nice handwritten note, short and to the point, that impressed me. So I called him up and we had a nice long conversation.

  Jim had grown up in Florida, played college golf at Columbus State University in Georgia, and had taken a job as a stockbroker. But when an opportunity to caddy on the pro tour came along, he jumped at it. He’d caddied for both Larry Mize and Scott Simpson since 1990. Somewhere along the way, Fred Couples nicknamed him “Bones” because he was so tall and skinny—and the name stuck.

  After that one conversation, we decided that when I turned pro, he would come along and we’d give working together a try. That relationship really turned out to be a huge blessing for me. Bones has helped me in so many ways. He is very smart, knows golf inside and out, and is never, ever late to an event. We’ve become good friends both on and off the course. As a matter of fact, he married one of my future wife’s best friends from college. And the wedding was at our house.

  Not long after I started caddying for Phil, we had a day off between tournaments and we decided to go play a round of golf together. I didn’t have my clubs with me and was going to have to rent some at the course. We drove over in Phil’s car and when we arrived in the parking lot, I realized it would be a long walk (about 100 yards) to get to the clubhouse. So I went around to the back, slung Phil’s golf bag over my shoulder, and started walking.

  “Bones, wait a minute,” said Phil. “What are you doing?”

  “Well, I thought I’d carry your clubs up there. I’m used to it, you know,” I replied.

  “No, no,” he said. “Today’s your day off. I’ll carry my own clubs.”

  And he did carry his own clubs as we walked together up to the clubhouse. It was a small gesture that I will never forget. And I think it says a lot about the kind of guy Phil Mickelson really is.

  Jim (Bones) Mackay, Phil’s Caddy

  I’m in the bunker behind the #5 green. This shot is much harder than the one I had at #4. I’m concerned because I have to hit it very soft. In a bunker shot, the club never actually touches the ball. The sand is always in between the two. My ball is on a bit of an upslope and I see an opportunity to get the ball very close to the hole. So I open the face of the club way up. I’m going to hit a lob shot and just barely flip the ball onto the green.

  I make a long, rhythmic, slightly aggressive swing—and my club goes too far underneath the ball. It doesn’t get enough lift, hits the inside front of the bunker, and falls back into the sand.

  I am disappointed in that miss, but there is no need to get down on myself. I’m often asked why I don’t seem to get bothered by bad shots. My answer is that I try to look at the long term. There’s always going to be some fun coming along the way. Everything will be okay. I’ve got another shot coming. It’s kind of a philosop
hy on life.

  My first thought after this shot is that I obviously went too far underneath the ball because the sand is lighter than I had envisioned. I need to level out my swing so that the club doesn’t come into the ball so steep and I go right underneath it again. I just want to get the next one up and down.

  I clean off the face of the club, look at the pin from behind the ball for a moment, and then step right up. I swing and plop the ball up about four feet from the hole—just outside my circle. Now I have a putt that will break to the left and is slightly downhill. Not a gimme by any means.

  Now this is an important putt. I must make it to salvage a bogey. I make a good stroke and knock it in. As I walk off the green, I’m thinking: “Okay, I lost another shot to par. Those things happen. I’m going to make mistakes like that. But it’s much better to make a bogey as opposed to a double bogey. At least I’m still tied for the lead.”

  PLAYER

  SCORE

  HOLE

  Mickelson

  -5

  5

  DiMarco

  -5

  5

  Langer

  -4

  6

  Casey

  -3

  5

  Choi

  -3

  6

  Singh

  -3

  9

  Els

  -2

  6

  Price

  -1

  7

  Couples

  -1

  9