Lessons learned

     Even 24 hours later, the impressions left from the final round of the 75th playing of the Masters Championship are disjointed and chaotic.  The last three hours of the day featured more competing story lines than a Tolstoy novel and not as much space to develop the story.  I was watching the CBS telecast and the live streaming content and was unable to keep up with it all.  In part, this was due to CBS's insistence on making us watch Tiger read every green, take every step, drink every bottle of water . . .  Granted, Tiger's play was compelling and certainly needed to be shown, but when most of the other competitors are making runs of their own, I think we deserve to see their play and not Tiger's housekeeping.  When Tiger was the dominant force in golf, the "All Tiger all the time" approach to broadcasting was actually justified as he would invariably end up being the most compelling subject.  Not so much, these days.  One of the lessons we learned from Sunday's fireworks is that the younger players won't roll over and steal away when Tiger starts to roar.

     For all of the talk about how the Masters had lost it's essential excitement due to the changes made to Augusta National's length and composition, I think it's safe to say the folks in the green jackets know what they're doing.  Any time you can get the mix of players involved that you had on Sunday, you should be ecstatic.  Lesson number two is, The Masters remains the most volatile, exciting and compelling high-wire act in golf.

     Overnight success is rarely what it's cracked up to be.  Much of the talk around the chat rooms and the blogosphere is about the stunning success of "newcomer" Charl Schwartzel.  Fact is, the twenty-six year old has been a touring professional for eight years, having turned pro at the tender age of eighteen.  He has dominated the South African based Sunshine Tour and owns 7 wins on the European Tour.  He may be a newcomer to the PGA Tour, winning the Masters in his first year playing the U.S. circuit, but he's hardly a new face in the international golf world.  See also a Masters leader board where Bo Van Pelt was the low American not named Woods.  A third lesson learned is that the U.S. tours are no longer the sole locations for the best in the world to play.

     Our final lessons involve what it truly means to be a champion.  Webster's defines a champion as:

1. One that wins first place or first prize in a competition.

2. One that is clearly superior or has the attributes of a winner: a champion at teaching.

3. An ardent defender or supporter of a cause or another person: a champion of the homeless.

By these definitions, I think it fair to say that Rory McIlroy is a champion.  He would have been completely justified in declining interview requests and seeking the comfort of solitude or family and friends.  Instead, he gracefully and honestly answered questions both behind the eighteenth green and in the locker room and even found the time to graciously give his golf ball to a young girl clapping for him behind the ropes after his nightmarish round was over.  Rory may have fallen short of being a champion on the course, but excelled at being a champion in life.  Contrast his behavior with that of Tiger Woods, whose brief post round interview managed to pack ten pounds of sarcasm and condescension in to a five pound sack.  Maybe being an edgy jerk helps to make him the golfer that he is, then again, maybe it just makes him an edgy jerk.  Rory taught us that it doesn't take a green jacket to be a champion, Tiger taught us that a closet full of green jackets does not a champion make.