People look for signs, it is the way of the world and of history, perhaps the sporting world is in for a shake up, for how often does a player come out of nowhere on the final day, how often does a player from Britain win the Masters; comets have been known to fly past the Earth with greater chance of falling into the 18th green at Augusta. Shooting stars they may be for a reason.
Not since the heyday of the late 80s and early 90s has there been such a domination, of breaking of American hearts and yet it didn’t come from an established figure such as Justin Rose but in the delighted stance of Danny Willett.
The fourth day of the first Major of the season was meant to be a coronation of the sublime skill of Jordan Spieth, perhaps the old master himself in Bernhard Langer rising up out of history’s gloom or perhaps the genial Rory McIlroy would finally emulate his potential and don the beautiful green jacket; the contenders were chomping at the bit and audiences across the pond, still reeling from the outsiders of Leicester City taking yet another stride towards an impossible title, was foaming at the mouth to a grandstand finish of yet another sporting weekend.
Rory McIlroy started off his day with a bogey and possibly predictably fell away from the leader. Jason Day and Dustin Johnson begin their rounds and their bid to become the Masters Champion for the first time and started with a promise on the first with a crushing 3 wood. Both are long dogs when it comes to driving a golf ball so they both have a chance to catch up with the Dallas born Jordan Spieth as they are only a tantalizing three shots behind.
As the leaders head their way out on the course, history was in the air, the smell more keen than Augusta grass, history was demanding to be made Jordan Spieth looking to become a wire to wire champion, Bernhard Langer at the age of 58 to become the oldest winning major champion of all time; history was being drip fed through a golf ball tube. Disappointingly, history was left off the menu in Rory McIlroy’s hands as his drives were all over the place but they stood out with more appreciation than his putting which was wayward and shoddy at best, unable to control his shots, he seemed haunted by the nightmare rounds of 2011
As Bernhard Langer drops away and the hopes of the older golfer everywhere fades, from out of the golfing hatchery Danny Willett senses the call of the wild, the sense of history that beckons him to be amongst such pristine company as Nick Faldo, Sandy Lyle and Ian Woosnam; as Jordan Spieth’s grip becomes sweaty and the water hazards become attractive, a par seven almost unbecoming, so too does Danny Willett’s golf become inspiring. The crown is heavy, sometimes history is meant to antagonise and toy with you but the title only deserves to be held by the best and from out of nowhere, Danny Willett is the best. A tremendous tournament and one that sees British golf once more at the top of the American tree.
Anthony Hall