2008 SHELL'S WONDERFUL WORLD OF GOLF
JEFE VERSUS JIMBO
ARCADIA BLUFFS GOLF CLUB
18th Hole: Par 4, 439 yards
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Well, this is it. I told you it would come down to the last hole. There's a lot more riding on this than just one match. These two have battled at everything over the years...ping-pong, hoops in the driveway, and especially golf. Jefe has probably had a slightly lower handicap index over the years, but when these two tee it up it's always an even match-up.
We are one 439-yard, uphill par 4 away from finding out once and for all who is the champion golfer of the Tang family. For two guys who will never slip on a green jacket or hoist the Claret Jug, this is their major. No matter how it ends up, it has been a privelege and an honor to follow these guys around for the last 3 1/2 hours, and to call these guys my golf buddies the last twenty years. And to think, at the beginning of the year I was planning to sit this trip out.
Although I won't be quitting my day job anytime soon, capturing the action on video and being Jim Nantz for a day was great fun. And it wouldn't be Nantz unless it included some of his vintage schmaltzy monologuing near the finish. And let me tell you...once you get started it's hard to stop. I could go on and on about the battles these two had out at Burr Hill growing up. And I probably would've kept going, except the batteries ran out on the video camera. Good thing Jimbo's new digital camera captured video, otherwise this whole thing would've been a waste of time (if it wasn't one already).
Of course, Jefe was down one after his unbelievable up-and-down on the 17th (and Jimbo's near four-putt). It's been all smoke and mirrors up until this point. He still needed to gain a stroke here, and on this hole, it would definitely require a good drive. They had us on the way back tees for this one, suitable for a championship finish. Jefe belted one down the right side. The ball tried to draw back left, but it stayed out in the right rough. All in all, not a bad shot as the aggressive line shortened the hole quite a bit.
Jimbo hit another solid, but short drive, again in the fairway and again well back of Jefe. I smell hybrid! Jimbo had at least 200 yards uphill to the flag. Anything on the green would likely guarantee victory (although we thought that on the last hole also), but his approach shot ended up well left and short of the green.
Hitting a blind shot up and over some giant dunes, Jefe needed to shake off the memory of the last 12 weak iron shots, trust his line, trust his club and trust his swing. Thankfully, he got all three right and hit a solid shot to the back of the green. He'd have a very fast downhill putt for birdie, but unless Jimbo managed to get up and down, it would be a birdie putt for the win.
As I alluded to at the outset, out of the hundreds of times I've seen these two duke it out, I don't think I've ever seen a round won on a birdie. It's always the guy that doesn't completely melt down at the end who comes out on top. And this round was no exception. Maybe secretly deep down inside, both guys love their brother so much that they just don't want to see the other guy lose. Or maybe they want to beat the other guy so badly that they end up choking like a dog. I'm going with the latter. In either case, the quality of golf took a major turn south. It was a scene I've seen many, many times over the years. But like passing by a 12-car pile up on the highway...you simply cannot turn your head away.
After 16 1/2 holes of pretty consistent golf, Jimbo suddenly forgot how to play the game. Especially the short game. Again, he had big problems with the ridges on the green. He stubbed his chip shot, running it up the ridge between him and the hole, only it was about 3 feet short of where he needed it to be. The ball was rejected by the front slope of the ridge, and rolled back down, getting worse and worse by the second, until it settled down to the far front left of the green, about 45 feet short of the flag. Worse yet, his next putt was no bargain two-putt either. He'd have to come over the same ridge, and get the speed down perfectly. Suddenly, it looked like after being in total control of this match for most of the back nine, he could potentially lose this thing outright in what would be a choke job of near-VandeVelvian proportions.
Unfortunately, Jimbo's next putt wasn't much better than his chip. Again, he fell victim of the slope, never playing it high enough or hitting it hard enough. He was lucky that the ball even stayed on top of the ridge, but it was at least 20 feet short. It now looked like Jimbo was going to lose!
Out of nowhere, Jefe had a birdie putt for the victory. But not to be outchoked, he hit his birdie putt way too hard down the slope, zipping past the hole and trickling about 16 feet past the cup. Bye-bye birdie. Bye-bye victory too?
Jimbo had a twenty-footer down the slope, a relatively straight forward putt. A bogey save here would put a ton of pressure on Jeff and make his comebacker seem a whole lot longer. But after hitting two very poor shots previously, dare I say, his next shot was even more dismal. He hit it on-line, but woefully short. Remember Chris DiMarco's putt at Whistling Straits to win the PGA Championship? This one was far worse. Double bogey wasn't even in the bag yet. This is getting ugly.
Just fifteen minutes ago, it looked like Jefe was dead in the water. Five minutes ago, it looked like he needed a birdie to have any chance. Now he faced an uphill sixteen footer for par to win the match. Jefe's the king of the comebackers, and this one looked very good...Jefe for the win! No! The hill killed it just inches short. A bogey five.
Now, Jimbo faced a slick left-to-right 3 1/2 footer for the double bogey and the tie. Can you imagine the emotional carnage that would occur if he misses this putt to lose this match with a triple-bogey on the last hole? We likely would've never seen him again. He'd probably take Bernie out to Montana and live in a shack without running water or electricity. So needless to say, there was a lot riding on this one putt. One man's sanity was at stake.
Jimbo exorcised his demons just long enough to put a confident stroke on the ball, although it started leaking right as it approached the hole. Thankfully, it dropped in the right side. We have a tie! After 3 1/2 hours on the golf course and 3 1/2 decades of battling it out, we've managed to prove absolutely nothing. But all in all, what an epic battle. I later kicked myself for missing the no-brainer call on Jimbo's putt...'A tie for the ages!' Too bad I expended all my Nantzism's back on the 18th fairway.
I suppose we could've gone right back to the 16th hole and had a sudden death playoff. But it didn't take long for us to realize that a tie was, in fact, the perfect ending of this match and a great way to end our 2008 golf trip. On the whole, the match perfectly encapsulated everything about this brother versus brother golfing rivalry. A tie was the only way (plus, Maypo would be happy). Even if it meant sharing the tiny Colton Cup (note to self: when asking two men to kiss a trophy, make sure it's a really big one. Wow, that was awkward. I now have that image burned into my brain.)
As we walked back to the car, there was a collective buzz. We knew we had just witnessed history. An epic battle that will rank right up there with Tiger's 2008 US Open win. Yes, we will be telling our grandkids about this one (I apologize well in advance). On our way back to the parking lot, we ran into a familiar face...Shelby, our waitress at the course from the night before after our speed round. She was working the beverage cart during the day.
'Shelby!' we yelled, grinning ear-to-ear like little schoolgirls from the excitement of the match.
Then Shelby responded with a question that best summed up the day and the trip. 'Are you guys brothers? Because only brothers can talk to each other like you guys do.'
Of course, we were just bursting at the seams to tell her about everything that just transpired. But (as I've shown), it would've taken about 3 weeks and 30,000 words to explain it fully. At that point, there was really one thing to say.
'Yes. Yes we are.'
Jefe: I hit probably my furthest drive of the day although it snuck into the right rough. I was just trying to get it far enough down the hole that I could have a reasonable iron in. Playing at 439 yards I knew I needed a good one. Jimbo hit a good drive but was further back, and the pin that morning was a really tough one, over the bunker on the far right side of the green. We were both blind coming in. I had eight iron from just over 150 and was aiming left of the flag with the hope that it would funnel back off one of the mounds. I hit a really good shot, I thought it would get up on the green which is all I was trying to do after seeing Jimbo short of the green in two. As Jimbo struggled to get his ball up to the hole it looked like I was actually going to have a putt to win the match, which is what happened. Of course, though, in typical Tang duel fashion, I ran the birdie putt well past the hole. It was actually a REALLY fast putt, much faster than I had anticipated and I left myself fifteen feet. I actually thought before Jimbo's long bogey putt that he was going to drain it and I would have to make my long putt just to tie. He didn't make it though, and I hit a decent par putt that didn't drop. Jimbo gave himself a tester for double and the tie and I really had no doubt that he'd drain it, which he did.
Overall it was a battle just to stay in the match. Jimbo played pretty steady and it looked like for a while that he would break 80. I gutted out a few tough pars down the stretch and felt that it was fitting that we end the trip at Arcadia, on one of our favorite courses, in a hard fought tie.
Jimbo: Bad feelings rushed over me on the 18th box. In 2005 I come to this tee at a respectable +6. After driving it in the fairway and leaving my second just off the putting surface I made a double to shoot 80.
My tee ball was weak and right. The second was left and almost in the bunker, just in the rough. Jefe stuck his approach behind the flag and I thought it would be just like Jefe to birdie the 18th and crush my very soul. The flag was tucked back right, behind a huge ridge bisecting the green. I said to myself, "just get the ball over the ridge, and at worse you'll make bogey". Unfortunately, I caught it fat and the ball just made it to the first tier of the green. Putter in hand, I said to myself, "just get the ball over the ridge and at worse you'll make double". Wrong again as my putt made it to the top of the ridge, but no further. I thought the next putt would be really fast, down the slope, but it ended up something like 3 feet below the cup. At this point I thought for sure I had blown my shot to win Shell's Wonderful World of Golf. All Jefe had to do was two whack, and the title would be his. But, he ran a very quick putt past the hole and ended up missing the par putt, one I thought he would certainly make. Suddenly, I had gone from thinking I would win SWW of G to thinking I would lose SWW of G to now having to make a three footer to halve SWW of G. Madness. For some odd reason, all the demons and inner dwarves seemed to go quiet and I knew I was going to make that putt. And I did.
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After 18 Holes: Tang +10; Tang +10
