|
...
Who can forget his monumental putt at the 18th at Pinehurst this year? Who can forget his caddie in his arms, legs wrapped around Payne? Who will ever forget Payne grabbing Phil Mickelson's face and in the moment of his
greatest victory, Payne told Phil he was a winner too because "you're going
to be a father". In the moment of his greatest triumph, he thought of others.
The golf world has lost one of its most original characters. It would be hard to imagine that Hagen in his prime, or Tony Lema, or Doug Sanders, or any of the past "flashy" players could outshine Payne Stewart as a presence on Tour. Image isn't everything but few golfers have ever been more identifiable than Payne Stewart.
And he had "game".
Payne's record in golf had for years, been somewhat looked down upon. He was often considered a great contender, a consistent money winner. He had
a major, yes, but only because Mike Reid self-destructed in the PGA.
Often, when close to the lead on the last day, he failed to "close the deal". He was too soft, too much image, too little substance.
But that changed.
In 4 recent US Opens, Payne Stewart was the man to beat when going to the
wire. Twice Payne lost to his counterpart, Lee Janzen, the other half
of this symbiotic pair of annual contenders at the country's most
difficult championship.
The grace with which Payne handled the recent US Open disappointments,
especially the loss in 1998, seemed to signal a change in Payne Stewart.
Age and maturity and yes, disappointment, had begun to soften him.
The braggadoccio that had often been his pattern (some would call it self-
confidence) had been stemmed. Gracious words replaced complaint. Payne
Stewart was growing up.
Payne was, in his 40's, learning the lesson we all need to observe. "Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger..." (The Bible- James 1:19)
Payne was starting to realize his place in life and in the game he loved. He had proved himself to himself. And the result was a newfound self-confidence and the ability to be gracious with others.
Witness his concession of the putt on the 18th at the '99 Ryder Cup, giving
Colin Montgomerie the win (allowing Montgomerie to retain his undefeated
record in Ryder Cup singles). To Payne only the team mattered and that
had already been settled. Perhaps the old Payne may have insisted upon
halving the match for the sake of his own ego. But the newer, mature Payne
Steward felt no such compulsion. And now, in his death, that gentlemanly
act may become his legacy.
The greatest loss to the world of golf that results from Payne's death is we lose our ability to witness the continuation of his transformation.
In an age of trash-talk and gallery-heckling Payne would have been a voice
to the contrary. He was just beginning to understand his place in the limelight. His newfound spiritual maturity was enabling him to accept his place as one of the "elder statesmen" of professional golf.
His recent US Open win was one of the greatest performances of patience
and perseverance we will ever see. The self-confidence he showed in laying
up for a pitch and putt par on the 18th was something that those of us who
play competitively will use as motivation for a long time to come.
To step up to that putt, to read the line and then to perform under the
pressure was Payne's shining moment as a player. Watch the replay. I have,
over and over. Watch the mechanics of the putt. He released the putter.
He RELEASED the putter.
Why is that so important?
Because most of us, in situations of extreme pressure, alter our normal
ways. Phil Mickelson, known as one of the best putters on Tour, under
pressure, tends to miss putts by pulling them. Why? Because the pressure
causes him to hold on, he doesn't release the putter. Nervous energy makes
us seek control. Control means "hold on". "My hands are shaking. I'm
trying to not make a mess of this".
Yet Payne released the putter and the result was one of the most memorable
putts in the history of golf.
Payne believed in himself. He believed in his ability. He told himself, "I've been here before. I can do this." And he did.
In watching the replay of that putt and the celebration over and over again I have noticed something I have never heard anyone else mention.
When Payne makes the putt his words are "....for birdie!"
What? He makes it for "birdie"? The putt was for par. What does that mean?
Although only Payne would know for sure, here's what I think he meant.
All of us, when we're learning the game, when we are progressing in our
abilities and we begin to be competitive in golf, create the scenarios....
"if he makes this putt, he wins the US Open Championship...."
I believe what Payne meant when he said, "...for birdie !"
was that he had just realized the fulfillment of that boyhood scene.
Here he was, with the eyes of the world watching. In the background are
the memories of two recent "close-calls" where he ended up short.
This time it would be different.
Payne had found the inner strength, borne of his faith in God, to rise to the challenge. And that inner strength, allowed him to see that moment as the fulfillment of every boy's dream as he fantasizes "this putt for the Open". Fear was gone. This was it. This WAS that moment.
And he made it. Dead center. He knew he could. He knew he would.
And he did.
When I say "Payne, we hardly knew ye...." it means this; we will all miss
what could have been.
The new Payne Stewart, growing into his newfound maturity and into his
role as one of the elder statesmen, would have had so much to offer this
world.
In a time where grace and humility are in short supply, Payne would have
been a model of what God can do in the life of a man whose heart is
devoted to Him.
Payne could have and would have been a voice calling for the return of
sportsmanship and gentlemanliness to a game which has, in its urgency
to be "inclusive" and reach for mass appeal, lost some of what separated
it from other sports. Payne would have been part of the solution for that.
We will miss you Payne Stewart. Thank God for your life.
Jeff Guimont
Pro Golf Talk
Oct. 30, 1999
|