Very nice win for Phil Mickelson at The Masters. It's always a pleasing experience when your favorite golfer wins your favorite tournament.
As Phil sank that last putt (for birdie!) and the coronation began, a few things came to mind:
Phil could have gone even lower in his final round. He was in position to eagle both 13 and 15. On the other hand, we've also seen him melt down when he'd miss putts like those, so good for him to keep his shit together and still pick up a stroke each time despite the disappointment of not dropping in those eagles.
He spared himself another round of ribbing about his vertical leap by not even attempting to jump when he closed out the round for the win.
I have a natural gag reflex when it comes to sports schmaltz and the broadcast team dropping anvils about a heartwarming personal story, yet it was still a little endearing to see Amy Mickelson there at the 18th. Their hug was obviously heartfelt and moving. And I don't suspect a conspiracy theory or anything, but I'm sure CBS, and particularly the folks at Augusta National, were only too happy to let the cameras linger on that shot a good long while, if only to compare and contrast with what could have happened, if someone else had won the tournament. Say, someone else with a wife who wouldn't have been so generous with a hug, since her husband likes to choke strippers and "fuck that ass he owns" and bang a breakfast restaurant waitress in a car in the parking lot where he just disposed of her used tampon. (And probably just left a 10% tip). Something tells me Billy Payne would have had a Costco-sized jug of Purell in the Butler cabin preparing for that handshake.
But enough about what could have been. Let's just celebrate what DID happen. So, Congrats, Lefty. Make room in the closet for another Green Jacket.