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Martha v Hootie: 2nd hole | ||||||
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May 18, 2003; Source: AnyoneForTee.com "Battle of the Sexes" first par 5 makes power a factor Martha was fuming. She was angry with herself at letting Hootie grab the initiative at the first hole, and even more furious with Hootie for his lucky three-footer. "That putt should've gone six feet by," she told Fanny, "and he'd have missed the return. We could have halved that hole."  It's at times like this that a good caddie earns his, or her, money. "No-one ever won a golf game with 'ifs', Martha," said Fanny. "Just keep cool, he's more nervous than you are, and you'll get your share of breaks, you'll see."Martha knew Fanny was right. A bead of sweat was visible on Hootie's brow, although it was still a cool, beautiful morning. He was big-time nervous, and getting even hotter under the collar as he watched Fluff hi-five a spectator in the gallery carrying a "You da man Hootie had the honour. Despite being one-up, he had the unpleasant feeling that Martha had got over her initial jitters, as a steely look appeared in her eye. "Stroke index 1, Martha," he said, in the most cheerful voice he could manage, while stooping to tee up his ball. "You get three shots here." "Only what's due to me, Mr Johnson," she shot back. "I don't have your masculine power to reach the par fives in three."   It was a masterful thrust. Determined to demonstrate his power and get up in two, Hootie handed the driver back to his caddie, who looked incredulous. "No, not that one, Fluff - we'll try the new one," he said, ominously.Fluff had seen the club in the bag, but thought it was just a little joke on Hootie by the members. Underneath a headcover emblazoned with Martha's face was a beautiful new Callaway driver - the Great Big Martha II. "You sure, Mr Johnson, Sir?", he asked, holding out the fearsome weapon. Hootie took it from Fluff's clammy hands. Slowly and deliberately he addressed the ball, clenching his teeth, and then swung the driver with all his might. The follow-through was ungainly, but he barely felt a thing at impact. "Must be a real peach," he thought. "Where is it Fluff?" Peter Alliss: "Ooh that's a shocker, a right heave and a half! Reminds me of dear old P.G. Wodehouse... - 'He never spared himself in his efforts to do the ball a violent injury'. Any sign of it, Ken?" Ken Brown: "I'm afraid so, Peter. Hootie's barely scraped it with the heel of the club, and it's shot through his legs and finished up just off the side of the tee, behind him. Not a good lie, either, he's on the upslope, so he'll have the ball well above his feet." Peter Alliss: "Well now, there's a turn up for the book! Three shots to give and he's further from the hole than when he started. Did you ever..." "It's, er, behind you, Mr Johnson, Sir," said Fluff, quietly. Hootie turned around to look, as Martha walked over to inspect the lie. "Bad luck," she said. "Have it again, Mr Johnson. Bill Clinton took mulligans, you sure can."  Hootie's already red face turned scarlet. "Three wood, Fluff", he called. The club flashed in the sunlight, and an instant later there was the familiar hollow clattering sound of ball on tree from deep in the woods on the left. "Two to there, Ma'am," he said, almost inaudibly.Martha felt in control,and knew that she was at her best in this mood. "Five wood please, Fanny", she asked. "We've got shots in hand, let's use 'em." She made an easy pass at the ball, and it flew gently away, not far, but definitely on the short stuff. Peter Alliss: "Very sensible shot from Martha. If only amateurs would play within themselves more often, they'd do a lot better." Ken Brown: "Absolutely Peter. She's up there almost level with Hootie, and four shots in hand."  Martha held onto the five wood as she strode purposefully up the fairway. Another gentle swoosh at the ball, albeit rather thin but with plenty of run, and she had propelled herself some way past the big bunker on the right, perfectly positioned to see the green in the far distance. Suddenly her mind went back to Butch, but she tried to banish the thought by peering into the trees, looking for Hootie.Fluff searched desperately, in ever widening circles. He looked at his watch. "Almost five minutes, Mr Johnson, Sir", he said, whispering as if he was in church. Hootie brushed the carpet of undergrowth with his three wood, more from habit than in hope. "Give me another ball Fluff." The words echoed through the trees. He began the trek back to the tee, refusing to look round at Martha. He knew she would be savouring the moment. He teed it up again, and this time swung the three wood in a resigned, lazy arc, which sent the ball a surprising way up the fairway with some gentle draw, rolling twenty yards or more and leaving him well placed beyond the bunker, almost level with Martha. "Four?", she asked. Hootie nodded. As if she didn't know...  "Are we laying up, or are you going for the green, Mr Johnson, Sir?", asked Fluff. "Nothing to lose Fluff," said Hootie, "I'll keep the three wood."Hootie is a big man, and when he connects, he connects. Struck with controlled venom, his third three wood of the hole flew like a bullet, landed in front of the bunkers guarding the entrance to the green, found a firm spot, and with one bounce landed in the middle of the green and ran up to within no more than ten feet from the hole. There was hootin' and hollerin' from the gaggle of green-jacketed spectators behind the green. "Heck Mr Johnson, Sir, Tiger would be proud of that one," said a visibly impressed Fluff. "Still five up there Fluff," Hootie responded, although he could barely contain his elation at the miraculous shot he had just pulled off. Peter Alliss: "What a superb shot, Sir! One to tell the grandchildren about of a winter's evening. Well done indeed! What about that Alex?" Alex Hay: "A great comeback by Hootie after his disastrous start to the hole Peter, but it's still Martha's hole to win. She just needs to keep things under control..." Martha stared in disbelief. Her mouth moved, but no sound came forth. "Never mind, we've got plenty of shots, Martha, we just keep playing our game," said Fanny, sensing the need to steady the ship. "Hit another five wood." Martha topped one no more than thirty yards, looking up before she'd even finished the backswing. She rushed forward and, despite Fanny's efforts to stop her, took another swipe at the ball. She missed. After another shovelling, right-shouldered effort, the ball ran along the ground, into the front left-hand bunker. Fanny stood herself between Martha and the green. "Stop right there, take deep breaths, and don't go into that bunker until you've calmed down Martha," she said. Martha looked at Fanny, then to the bunker, and back to Fanny. Her eyes seemed to be pleading for help. Fanny handed her the sand-wedge. "Lay the face open, take a big swing, hit two inches behind the ball and follow right through," she advised. Martha tried to listen, but her mind was in turmoil. She stepped into the bunker, stood to the ball as if she was on the fairway and flailed at it. The club dug in, and the ball moved a few feet, almost under the front lip. "Six, net three, plays five?", called Hootie from the side of the green. Fluff was grinning. Martha hacked at the ball, but only succeeded in pushing it further under the lip. Before she could hit it again, Fanny stepped in turned Martha through 90 degrees, making her play out away from the hole. Another hack, and still the ball was in the sand. Ignoring Fanny now, Martha blasted away, this time once more in the direction of the hole. She caught the ball clean, sending it flying through the back of the green. She lay nine, net six, to Hootie's five. A fluff, a thin and two putts later, she was still four feet from the hole. Hootie lagged his putt, correctly this time, and tapped in for a seven without waiting for the concession. "Mr Johnson seven, Ms Burk fourteen, net eleven. Mr Johnson wins the hole. Mr Johnson is two up," called the scorer, as Martha stared wild-eyed into space.  Peter Alliss: "Well that's another extraordinary hole, Alex. You'd have given long odds on Hootie winning that one after his drive... not that you ever give long odds.."Alex Hay: "It's the Scot in me Peter, but you know, it just goes to show, you should never give up in this game of golf. I remember that great South African Gary Player at the old Piccadilly World Matchplay, he was seven down at lunch to Tony Lema, and..." Steve Rider: "And there we must leave you for the time being, as we go over to the first race from Doncaster, but we'll be right back on BBC2 in just a couple of minutes, with Hootie Johnson sensationally winning the second hole to go two up on Martha Burk. So for now, from Augusta, goodbye." | ||||||
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You can follow the match score on the official scorecard by clicking here. To read the earlier match reports, please click on the hole number: 1 | ||||||
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All the beautiful images of Augusta National used in this story can be seen on the official Masters website www.masters.org This page © Copyright 2003 by DuffersGolf | ||||||
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