Bones and Phil

Without Bones, Phil doesn't win the just completed 2010 Masters in swashbuckling bogeyless fashion. What would Batman be without Robin? Fred Astaire without Ginger Rogers? Steve Carlton without Tim McCarver? George Bush without Dick Cheney,oops, skip that one. Warren Buffett without Charlie Munger? I'll tell you to all of the above...not much. Sure they would be successful to an above average extent. But one without the other, success would have been muted. However, with the other, their success is a full symphony.

What a Masters it was!!! I'm exhausted and I didn't leave my couch for 5 hours. All the other story lines aside and there were numerous ones, the one I was glued to was this ongoing cerebral dynamic between golfer and caddy. Phil Mickelson, golfer extraordinaire and Jim "Bones" Mackay, caddy virtuoso. Simply put, Bones is Phil's alter ego, comforter, exhorter, brain, contrarian, whipping boy, straight man, advisor, loyalist, enforcer, strategist...have I left anything out...oh yeah, his best friend outside of Amy, his wife.

I have watched this duo for years, more to the point, I have heard these two over the years on the air verbally dissecting every nuance of a forthcoming shot. Listening to those two in the woods, on the fairways, in the bunkers, on the tees, on the greens wherever is totally fascinating to me. Their ongoing conversation for five plus hours of mental and physical grind on the course in the final round of a major tournament is totally mind-blowing. Bones talks. Phil listens. Phil talks. Bones listens. Bones grimaces. Phil smiles. Bones's eyes grow somber. Phil's eyes sparkle. It's like watching the Charlie Rose Show without the subdued lighting, mahogany oval table and two glasses of water.

Can you imagine what they talk about after they leave the course? Between the two of them, I bet they could answer the puzzling meaning to Bill Clinton's response to the 1998 Grand Jury testimony on Monica Lewinsky of "it all depends what the meaning of the word is...is."

So, Phil rightfully and faithfully, embrace your sweet Amy and your three adorable kids. Thank God every night for them. But in the next breath, light a candle for old Bones for keeping you on your narrow psychological track while adding yet another green jacket, #3, to the locker at Augusta National.

PS. That 205 yard shot off the pinestraw in the trees to the 13th green to within 4 feet of the hole at the narrowest part of that green was one of the craziest and greatest shots I have ever seen. And you left it under the hole no less. Good Lord! Missed the putt for eagle though...didn't matter anyway. Thanks for the memory! WOW!