AUGUSTA, Ga. – It was difficult to tell whether the response to Greg Norman on his return to his beautiful hell, applause and cheering so loud and enthusiastic, was out of admiration or sympathy.
“Everybody wants to live in the past,” Norman said Thursday, answering a question about what might have been had he not come apart in that final round of the 1996 Masters, a final round he doesn’t want to remember and no one else wants to forget.
So many chances to win this major played out beneath the Georgia pines, golf’s tribute to spring and history.
Norman was the man of a decade, from the mid-1980s through the mid-1990s. Always in contention. Often in frustration.
Jack Nicklaus edged him by a shot in the ‘86 Masters, then a year later Larry Mize holed a chip to win over Greg in a playoff. Then after we spent seasons taunting Norman with our thoughts and analysis, he constructed a six-shot lead over Nick Faldo with 18 holes remaining.
At last, we believed, there would be redemption. Instead there was more agony. Faldo not only beat Norman, he beat him by five shots.
Greg returned another half-dozen times, even coming in as high as third in 1999, but then his life changed. There were injuries. His marriage was unraveling. He concentrated on his numerous businesses, from turf grass to boat building. The Masters was left in the distance, his last appearance in 2002.
Until now. Until gaining a place in the field through a surprising third-place finish in last July’s British Open. At 54, Greg Norman was back to challenge the greens and demons. In the first round, he met that challenge, shooting a 2-under-par 70.
And naturally, someone wondered, euphemistically of course, if Norman had played that awful final day in 1996 as he did this wonderfully reassuring first day in 2009, “what you might have shot on an earlier Augusta National.”
Norman was not fooled. He understood the meaning, and he offered his punch line about us living in the past.
It’s a different Greg Norman now. He said his marriage to retired tennis star Chris Evert, after a $100 million divorce from his wife of some 25 years, Laura, has proven to be stabilizing.
Chrissie’s calm approach, understanding of competition and willingness to accept Greg’s hours of practice, have been a balance Norman said had been lacking.
Greg and Chris talk to each other like husband and wife, and athlete and athlete.
“She wishes she could get back out there and play,” said Norman, who in contrast has gone back out there and is playing, “because she sees the passion I have, and I’m at the age – we are both at the age – where golf allows me to do it, or my sport allows me to do it for whatever crazy reason.”
And Evert, also 54, unable to race about a court as she did three decades past, finds vicarious success in Norman’s golf. “She can still hit all the shots,” he said. “But she feels, especially now, she loves the competition, wants to make sure everything is right around me. Because she’s been there and done that and wants nothing more than to see me just happy playing golf, whatever happens on the course.”
What happened Thursday was Norman had three birdies and only one bogey. And at each green and each tee, the crowd was more than gracious, it was excited.
“Hey everybody loves me,” joked Norman. Nothing wrong with that is there? Are you guys jealous?”
Greg, with his swashbuckling ways, with his nickname, “The Great White Shark,” was forever a favorite. He took chances. He took figurative blows to the jaw.
“No matter where I play in the world, I’ve been connected to the gallery,” said Norman. “I play with my heart on my sleeve, and I’ve done very well out of the game. And when I come here, people probably feel for me – some of the things that have happened here — and really enjoy seeing me back here.
“I played my way into this tournament, which very few people can say at age 54, and it’s a feather in my cap, to say the least. A seven-year hiatus, and it feels like the very first time I played here.”
That was 28 years ago, 1981, and Norman, albeit on a more receptive course not toughened and lengthened, shot a 69, only one stroke better than the last time he played here, Thursday.
Norman, in his 22 Masters, has finished second three times and third three times. So close. And too far.
“Can a 54-old-man win this golf tournament?” a journalist asked Greg Norman in closing.
“We’ll have to wait and see,” Norman said with a shrug.
Or, knowing what the Masters has done to Greg, wait and hope.
