My Weekend on Tiger's Trail

Getty Images A day after one of the most operatic Masters finales in history, Condoleezza Rice on the weekend’s heartbreaks and highlights.

Long before I picked up a golf club four years ago, I watched the Masters every year. In 1968, I was watching with my mother when Robert De Vicenzo signed an incorrect scorecard and was disqualified. Mother was outraged because she thought that the mistake might have been a result of the language barrier.

So when I was able to get tickets for my first Masters, I was really excited. I’ve been to Super Bowls, the Final Four, the U.S. Open Tennis Championships—nothing matched the anticipation of my first Masters.

When Tiger’s ball hit that tree at 18, I felt like Joe Montana had just thrown a pick in a two-minute drive in the Super Bowl.

As the time approached, my assistant Anne said, “They want to know who you want to follow.” Borrowing language from Anne’s generation, I said, “Duh?”

I know Tiger from our Stanford connection. I once sat with him at a Stanford-Duke basketball game. Stanford won on a buzzer-beater, and we stormed the court together. With that kind of bonding, whom else would I pull for? I had decided that if Tiger did not win, I would champion the cause of Phil Mickelson (met him at the White House and he’s a really nice guy); Stewart Cink (met him in Atlanta and he’s a really nice guy); or Anthony Kim (haven’t met him but I like his swagger).

Upon arrival, Augusta took my breath away with its physical beauty. It exceeds your expectations. The people are very kind. Clearly, the faces at Augusta are changing as America is changing. But there is a timelessness to it that is very nice. Everything runs on time at Augusta but nothing is hurried.

We set out for the course and I soon learned that you don’t “follow Tiger.” People were already parked at the first tee two hours before his start. My friends said that it’s more like being swept up in a wave of humanity when you “follow Tiger.”

So we decided on a different strategy. I was lucky to have good friends who are members of Augusta: Jim (who really knows the course) and Brad took us under their wing. We went to venues rather than follow a single golfer. The 16th tee was great because a golfer must carry the water onto a green that, if not hit perfectly, will throw the ball back into the water or into the sand. Perhaps it’s a sign of my own obsession with the game now that I spent the time there plotting my own strategy for playing it. “A 5 wood—too much, might go in the bunker. A 7 wood—not enough, will go in the water.” That means I don’t have a club that will work.

When Tiger finally made the leader board after a pretty mediocre start, the excitement was palpable. Everyone was waiting for his “move.” We walked back. I said hello to Ernie Els and Stephen Ames (new golfers for me to pull for in the future). Tiger was at the practice putting green. “Do you want to say hello?” Brad said. I knew enough to know that Tiger, especially a struggling Tiger, wouldn’t have appreciated the distraction.

The next day, we were lucky enough to be joined by Tom Boswell, an institution at The Washington Post who has covered more than 30 Masters. He explained the ins and outs of a Bobby Jones golf course. Then we went to the practice range to watch incredibly smooth swings. At the 6th green, we saw Tiger putt for birdie (when he’s done, there is a mass exodus from the stands) and saw both Anthony Kim and Rory McIlroy chip twice to get onto the green. Now, the missed first chip is something I can identify with.

Then we went to the 8th green and sat greenside. Fuzzy Zoeller (another favorite of mine) was playing horribly but his lovely daughter-caddy stopped by to say hello. And I got to play a little bit part: A golfer hit his ball over the green and they needed a foot (a human foot) to hold down the rope and produce space for his chip. My foot was there and I happily stood on the rope.

We ended our day with another trip to Amen Corner to see Greg Norman make his birdie out of the sand and then back to 16 where Gary Player made his final walk to the green with cheering crowds to guide him. What a moment!

We returned to Atlanta where I played myself (very well, actually) and followed the Masters from afar.

I got home from my own round on Sunday just in time to see Phil and Tiger, who were surging up the leader board, on the 12th hole.

When you say that you’ve been converted to golf, friends (particularly baby boomer tennis-playing friends) think you’ve given up on sports. My answer is always, “Have you seen Tiger Woods?”

Golf is not supposed to be “one on one.” You are told to “play the course. Play your game.” Yet when Tiger is on the course and starts one of his surges, it feels like Magic Johnson or Jerry Rice, one on one with an opponent.

And we’ve all come to expect the impossible. When Tiger’s ball hit that tree at 18, I felt like Joe Montana had just thrown a pick in a two-minute drive in the Super Bowl. But you know that Tiger will be there to do it right the next time.

Not so for 48-year-old Kenny Perry. After my favorite golfers were out of it, my heart turned to him. When he made that great shot on 16, you could see the wonder in his eyes. You felt it was the moment of his career. He could not finish: But what a gentleman and what a thrill. In the end, it was Angel Cabrera and justice for Robert De Vicenzo. It was also a great moment for Argentina—a country with terrible politics and wonderful people. I wish my mother could have seen it.

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Condoleezza Rice is the Thomas and Barbara Stephenson Senior Fellow on Public Policy at the Hoover Institution and professor of political science at Stanford University. From January 2005 to 2009, she served as the 66th secretary of State of the United States. Before that, she served as assistant to the president for national-security affairs from January 2001 to 2005.