On Watching Tiger at The Masters.

Late last year Tiger won some off-season tournament and I wrote a piece about how my Dad and I would analyze every Tiger win or loss. (In case some of you new peeps didn't know my Father died in October.)
I basically said it would be strange not to hear from my Dad as soon as the round was over.
I thought of him a lot Sunday.

Before the telecast, I spent some time gathering his stuff to prepare his final tax return.
Nice.
I had to get his will, his death certificate and other personal items, so I was in a pretty maudlin frame of mind anyway.
Then it was time for The Masters.

For as long as my Brothers and I can recall, golf was a big part of our Fathers life.
My Dad loved the game. Loved playing it, watching it, learning it and sharing his knowledge of it.
I became a good player because of him.
My Brothers and I all loved the game because of him.
I watched a lot of golf at his side. I talked a lot about golf with him.

Yesterday I watched the last round with his chair for company and when it was over, I said out loud, "Well Lou he can't win them all!"
My Dad would have been pissed at Tigers play yesterday.
I can just hear him. "Why did he do that?" "How can he hit it short?" "Why can't he hit a fairway!"

When the round was over we'd go through it, I'd defend Tiger's bad play and my Dad would wonder why "they never show Weir!"
Pretty typical.
Yesterday the Broadcast ended, Tiger lost and the phone didn't ring.

I'm told that this is all part of The Process. Sometimes The Process sucks.
It was weird and something I'm going to have to get used to.
Tiger can't win all the time and my Dad won't be calling me on Sunday afternoons anymore.