THE Masters
Young Scot MacIntyre battles to a 74 on his Augusta debut
ScoTlANd’S Robert MacIntyre produced a gutsy performance on his Masters debut yesterday. The 24-year-old shot five birdies in his first round — but will be wondering what he left out there at Augusta after adding seven bogeys to his scorecard.
He looked to be in real trouble after dropping four shots in a row from the eight to the 11th.
But the left-hander from oban showed composure beyond his years, with birdies at the 13th and 15th par fives followed by an outstanding chip-in at 17 on the way to a two-over 74.
And by the time MacIntyre made par on his closing hole yesterday, that left him only five shots behind the clubhouse lead of Brian Harman and Hideki Matsuyama. Not bad for a first showing here.
While the new man — whose compatriot Martin laird also shot 74 — was finding his feet yesterday, Augusta was thumbing its nose at one of British golf’s oldest members, lee Westwood.
Forty six years, two months, and 23 days. There is a reason those numbers continue to resonate. Nobody has won a major older than Jack Nicklaus was at the Masters in 1986. So Westwood has been in extraordinary nick to speak of beating that record this week.
It was not so much that Westwood was the collateral damage of a course set up to tame younger, longer men, more that, approaching 48, to still be considered a contender was almost feat enough. To actually pull that off, to be lurking near the top of the leaderboard on a day when Augusta was playing as fiendishly as on any Thursday in the last decade — perhaps that was just too much to ask.
The pressure, the sudden expectations, the conditions, it all conspired against him. Nicklaus’s 1986 Masters was his 18th major; Westwood is older and still looking for his first. It would be, in essence, a victory every bit as special as Tiger Woods’ comeback in 2019. But, come on, get real.
That’s what Augusta seemed to be whispering as Westwood laboured around its beautiful borders looking ever more forlorn. His son Sam, was on his bag. He’s 19. That’s nearer the age at which a man might take on the Masters. Tyler Strafaci, the US Amateur champion, was part of Westwood’s group. He’s 22. Not that Augusta greatly rewards callow youth, either, and he finished eight over par. But time is on his side. Westwood knows it’s now, or never. Now, or join the ranks of the great European players who never quite got to plant their flag on the summit. colin Montgomerie, defined by the Ryder cup. luke donald, 56 weeks the world No1.
Few are out of contention after 18 holes, but Westwood needs three incredible rounds from here. He also needs every one of the greatest golfers in the world to suffer a meltdown, of sorts.
He was in rare form arriving in Georgia, allowing him to be considered a Masters contender, for his supporters to indulge the fantasy that, after so many near misses, history could be made.
Even the grouping spoke to that hope, Westwood beside reigning champion dustin Johnson and his amateur equivalent, Strafaci. It confirmed Westwood’s status. Maybe that didn’t help, either. Westwood has never been at his best in majors when properly in the mix. Many of his finest finishes have come after the crucial shakedown, from a distance, with the pressure off. Perhaps this year would be different.
Those bubbles of hope were burst on the third, one of the most approachable holes on the course, a 350-yard par four, charmingly called Flowering Peach. Westwood took a four iron from the tee and went for accuracy and positioning. A trip to the trees later, and this was very much plan B. The second brought the sound of wood, too, and sent the ball further right. By the time he marched to the par three fourth, he was two over par. It was, sadly, already the beginning of the end. Nothing was working. Not the driver, not the putter, not the judgement of distance. If it isn’t right on the tee, and it isn’t right on the green, it probably won’t be right between them, either. Particularly if you can’t always get it to stop when necessary.
Not that Westwood was alone. No rain, a hard and fast surface. Just as a relatively benign coastal breeze can make a Scottish links adorably treacherous, so a baked Augusta is nobody’s idea of a treat. As the day wore on and gusts dried the course out further, so balls began to trickle into water, or speed away in vicious loops on the greens. At the ninth, Westwood saw Strafaci strike a putt from north of the green, only to watch it roll off a bank back towards the hole — as intended — but carry on past, down the hill, off the front before settling in grass the length of a first cut, chipping distance away. At least Westwood had the guide. He missed with the same putt, slightly better line, eventually stopped by the wind. It showed how difficult these conditions were.
Johnson didn’t score off the charts but his numbers were very much in first-round contention. As steadily as it slipped away from Westwood, so Johnson brought it
The left-hander from Oban showed composure beyond his years, with birdies on 13, 15 and 17
back after a first hole bogey. There is much to recommend in Johnson’s zen-like mindset. Can a champion go under the radar? Johnson does. There is so little drama in the way he moves around the course that he slipped onto the leaderboard on the back nine, almost unheralded. Only when he chipped in on the 11th, then nearly landed in a patron’s packed lunch on the 15th, was there anything resembling theatre. Johnson never looked fazed by either.
Westwood, meanwhile, was scrambling not to become too distanced from the pack. It looked mentally draining but, with expectations lowered, his game improved. He hit fairways again with 300 yard drives, got in birdie positions, didn’t always make them, but clawed a shot back at the par five 15th, beautifully played, before missing the fairway and giving one back at 17. He didn’t look like his head was about to explode yet nor did he have the game of a man who was about to consign one of Nicklaus’s greatest achievements to history.
He finished the round six over, and in danger of missing the cut. On the 18th tee, the club fell from his hand, to a cry of ‘Jesus Christ.’ Conclusion? Records are that for a reason. Nicklaus was 46 when he won his last major; but he was 22 when he won his first. It’s a small detail; but not insignificant.
As for the rest of the British corps, Paul Casey was kicking himself for not posting at least some score under par, after playing the front nine in 33 shots, the highlight of which was an eagle at the par five 8th.
Now 43, this is his favourite major but the love was not returned on the back nine as he dropped all those shots and one more to finish with a 73. Talk about a game of two halves.
Ian Poulter went the other way, picking up two late shots to salvage a 74.
Fellow Englishman Matt Wallace also finished with a 74.