The Perfect Goodbye: Watching Watson's Farewell to the Old Course

Yesterday afternoon on the east coast, I didn't get a chance to watch Tom Watson's (likely) final competitive round at St. Andrews.  I could see from the leaderboard on my phone that he was not going to make the cut.  I read about Tiger Woods waving Watson up and through so that he could finish in the quickly fading light and avoid an anticlimactic singular hole on the Saturday dawn.  But I wanted to make sure that I saw Watson play 18 one last time at the Old Course.

I finally was able to catch it last night.  I was out at a bar, drinking a Sam Adams, and chowing down on a pastrami sandwich.  The Open was on in the background. ESPN's nighttime replay of the action from earlier in the day almost ensured constant video from Scotland.  As someone openly critical of ESPN and their relentless coverage of anything that they broadcast.  This week, though, I relent because it has been a blessing to have a championship that I love so much being broadcast almost without pause.  It paid off last night, too.

Sipping on my brew, I just happened to turn around to watch what was happening on the tele.  It was Watson.  He was playing the last.  

Watson hit his tee shot - a beauty - but he could have done just about anything off of the tee.  So long as he made it to Swilcan Bridge, the revelry could begin.  Like the King in '95 and the greatest ever in 2000, perhaps the greatest competitor in the history of the Open Championship bid adieu to the championship rota's most famous grounds.

Tom Terrific got to the simple, long aged stones and kissed them.  It is a religious icon for many, including Watson - a man with such depth of knowledge and appreciation of the history of the sport.  In what has become a familiar rite of passage now for the greats of our sport, Watson reached the apex of the bridge, stopped, and absorbed the warmth and applause from a most appreciative crowd.  With a tip of the cap and some waves, Watson said his goodbye.

The tears started to well up on my end.  An event that happened hours earlier, thousands of miles away, and here I was choking up.  A bar probably was not the best setting to shed a few tears, but at least the pub wasn't crowded last night.  My wife looked at me, almost stunned.

"Are you...crying?"

I almost didn't hear her.  I was fixed on the TV.  Kind of nodding gently, the small stream of tears was close to done.  Before it all unfolded - all 30 seconds of it - I had no clue what emotion would come out of me.  A wry smile.  Maybe break into applause.  Instead, I was sad.  Perhaps I was still sad from Turnberry, which was the last time I shed any tears for golf.  (Yeah, me and the rest of the world whose last name is not Cink.)  Maybe it was a bit of a hangover from watching Tom just a month ago in California at the Open.

I got to see him play his final hole at the US Open, his son alongside him.  The embrace is something I wanted to catch with my camera.  I did.  The rousing oveation at the American equivalent - as much as there is one - to St. Andrews was heartwarming.  The one in Scotland was heartbreaking.

In a bizarre way, Watson's bid to win the Open at Turnberry made me appreciate golf history even more than I did prior.  Book after book, lots of film - anything to learn more about the game and its greatest stories.  After all, Watson's these last 12 months have been an incredible chapter and one I wanted to engage.  

Fortunately, I interviewed Watson for the site last fall.  When the folks at the Champions Tour told me that I could speak with him, I called my then-fiance.  I called my parents.  I may have even jumped a bit, all three inches off of the ground.  What a fantastic opportunity to speak with a man so soon after his accomplishment.  (It was in no way a failure.)  My hands shook a little with the phone when I talked to him.

Open week last month, I was playing a great golf course called Bayonet on Friday.  Watson was on the cut line much of the day, but it looked like he was going to see the weekend one last time.  While I was golfing, Katie sent me a text message from the Lexus tent lining the 18th fairway at Pebble.

"Watson's coming at 5pm," the text said.

The pace of play was so slow that day - Open weeks do that to nearby courses, saturated with golf seekers - that I had barely made it to the ninth hole in three hours.  It was my mission to see Watson in person.  The session he was going to have would be informal, with people that Lexus hand-picked to invite in their corporate tent paradise.  Watson would be candid conversational, per usual, but it would be different and pretty special.  I left the course on the 14th hole, in the heart of a good round, so I could make sure I was there.

I made it.  Watson walked in, gave a great, engaging chat.  Making eye contact with the man several times let me know he really appreciated where he was and the bizarre life situation of being a rockstar sextagenarian.  The room applauded loudly for his made cut and that he would get to keep playing.  He then signed autographs.  Typically, I don't get autographs from athletes anymore.  I feel like I'm hassling them in other sports, and it seems almost dishonest to do so with golfers.  Besides, the reward of being behind some of the scenes with a press pass is way better.  But with Watson, it was different.  I had to get his signature and shake his hand.  I did, and I thanked him for the Hancock and the interview.  

He simply looked at me warmly in the eyes and said, "You're welcome."

That was all I needed.  I'll see him again, when the Champions Tour comes to town in October, but never in a situation like that at Pebble.  The universe felt so small in that moment.

It felt small again in that bar as he finished playing the home hole for the last time in an Open.  Watson chipped up to the last pin, nearly holing it.  The greats just have a way of leaving us wanting more, but this was enough.  It was a perfect moment and a great way to end it with the Old Girl.  On Thursday, Watson said she was naked.  Late on Friday night, she had her Sunday best on for a man who made so many of them special in this championship, but would not be able to see it again at the Old Course.