It was just 30 or so minutes after he canned his winning four-footer on the 19th hole, a half hour after letting loose a banshee victory cry — Yeahhhhh! Woooooo! — that may still be echoing through the Atlanta Athletic Club pines. And already Gunn Yang was being transported to spring 2015 and Bobby Jones’ “other” course, in Augusta.
Lounging in the clubhouse, flanked by a few media types who have covered more Masters than they care to count, Yang was most curious.
“Am I allowed to play in the par-3?” he asked.
Of course.
“But it’s like a jinx, right?”
Only if you win.
And you know if you win the U.S. Amateur on Sunday, you’ll be paired at the start with Bubba Watson, the defending champion.
“I’ll be 50, 60 yards behind him (off the tee).”
And, you know, you can stay in the crow’s nest, up above the clubhouse. They have great quarters up there for the amateurs. And if you climb up into the cupola, you can practically see heaven from there.
“I’m already dreaming.”
No matter what happens Sunday to either of the combatants for the Amateur title — it’s Yang vs. Canada’s Corey Conners over 36 or so holes Sunday — both already have won big. The two U.S. Amateur finalists get passes to the Masters and the U.S. Open, assuming they maintain their amateur standing.
The loser Sunday has the greatest consolation prize since Kevin Costner walked off with Rene Russo in “Tin Cup.”
Those beckoning invites have traditionally added a whole other layer of tension to the semis. You’re not only playing for a chance to win the biggest tournament you’ve ever played in, but also an invitation to two tournaments that are exponentially bigger.
Kids on the range don’t dream of playing in the U.S. Amateur finals. They have fever dreams of playing in the Masters and the U.S. Open.
Conners, 22, has experienced both extremes of the U.S. Amateur semifinals experience. He lost in one last year, coming tantalizingly close to those major perks. And survived one Saturday, overcoming Denny McCarthy 1 up.
“It did sting,” he said, “so there was a little more motivation this year, I guess. I knew what it felt like (to lose).”
What a fine line it is between realizing a fantasy and watching another Masters from the couch, between providing your own inner monologue to the splendors of Augusta National or relying upon Jim Nantz for the commentary.
Both of Saturday’s matches went to the 18th hole, or beyond. The Yang-Fred Wedel match had more twists than Richard Sherman’s ’do. They halved only six of the 19 holes, the other 13 swinging to one or the other.
On the par-3 17th, the match all square, Wedel had both heels hanging out over the water as he chipped off the stone wall between pond and green. He hit an inspired chip off unyielding rock to four feet and appeared to have least halved the hole. But then he pulled the putt, and fell 1 down going to 18.
From there it got a little weird. Both hit into the fairway bunker on 18. Rather than doing the safe, sane thing and lay up in front of the water guarding the green, Yang went for it, thinned it badly and drowned his second shot. Wedel went to the other extreme, hitting his 5-iron bunker shot to eight feet, forcing overtime.
Back to the 10th hole, Yang, who has shown fierce closing tendencies all week, did it again. He hit his approach to the par 4 four feet below the hole. A clinching birdie and much whooping ensued.
For each celebration, there is an equal and opposite grieving. “I was one hole away from playing in the Masters and U.S. Open,” Wedel said. “Just that it was so close. … If I’d lost in the round of 16 or the quarters, it wouldn’t sting as much.”
Now that he has won the golden ticket, Yang has some tough decisions to make. A week ago, when he arrived for a practice round without a caddie, an Atlanta Athletic Club member stepped up to schlep his bag.
“When we went out to play that first day, he wanted to pay me,” said the well-placed caddie, Richard Grice. “I told him, ‘No, I’m not doing this for money, I’m a volunteer. Tell you what, if you win it all, I get to caddie for you at Augusta.”
They both had a hearty chuckle over that one. Yang was the No. 776-ranked amateur in the world. There were 312 players in the field. Someone bring in Stephen Hawking, and we’ll calculate the odds.
Well, now, here they are, the unimaginable having turned real. And you know that everyone from swing coaches to college coaches to teammates at San Diego State will line up to share his days at the Masters.
“I may have to divide up a couple of rounds,” Yang said, smiling at his happy problem. Just be aware, young man, that Grice is a lawyer — at Bobby Jones’ old firm, no less — and he knows a little something about verbal contracts.
About the Author
