The reason why the public love Mickelson

It had to take something a bit special to knock Tiger Woods off the headlines at the Masters; Phil Mickelson provided it. Short of form coming into the tournament and understandably distracted by his wife’s and mother’s battles with cancer, he produced some thrilling golf to win the tournament for the third time. And, according to Matthew Syed in the Times, his go-for-broke shot on the 13th from a seemingly impossible position highlighted exactly why he is so adored by the public.

Jack Nicklaus once said that the art of winning tournament golf is to understand when to defend as well as when to attack. It is a strategic insight with which most of us would agree, particularly in the context of Augusta National, a course where mistakes tend to extract penal consequences.

But in the pine needles at the side of the 13th fairway on Sunday, Phil Mickelson, a mild-mannered, gentle, some might almost say anaemic character, offered us a rather different philosophical proposition.

Faced with an aperture only a few feet in width between two encroaching trees, and with the potential for catastrophe staring him squarely in the face, the American went for broke.

It was a 200-yard carry over Rae’s Creek, with the pin just a few paces on to the green — the kind of shot that would require scrupulous accuracy even with an obstacle-free trajectory and a perfect lie. In the circumstances, the shot seemed not merely brash but insane. Even when he took his six-iron from his bag, many of us assumed that he was laying up with a low scuttler rather than risking his chance of winning a third Masters by tilting for the green.

It was a shot selection that invited not merely dissent but ridicule. The headlines would have written themselves. Mickelson led by a shot, he had time on his side, the coming holes suited his game, he might still have made his birdie by laying up and Rae’s Creek was snaking its way across the trajectory of his ambitions. Everything spoke against the decision he made.

But it is for moments such as this that golf, and sport, have meaning. In the instant he struck the ball, the 2010 Masters, which had already provided thrills and spills aplenty, was elevated into one of the great sporting events of recent times.

It was not just the sweetness of the shot, the soft landing of the ball just inches from the edge of the water and its gentle passage to within a few feet of the hole; it was, even more so, the thrilling audacity of its contemplation.

Mickelson is adored by the American public not simply because he is a decent chap with a nice demeanour, but because he has an affinity with boldness and adventure no less profound than that of Ballesteros, Arnold Palmer and the other swashbuckling legends who illuminated the history of golf.

It is because, when playing shots such as those from the pine needles on the 13th hole at Augusta, he provides a glimpse of the way life could be if we dared to live it beyond the cocoon of safety and certainty.

Has Tiger really changed?

Sorry, we couldn’t keep Tiger out of the headlines. Daily Mirror scribe Oliver Holt was left with a nasty taste in his mouth following Tiger Woods’ return to competitive golf at the Masters.

You want my best guess on Tiger now that he's got a few days of golf out of the way? He's a big game bounty hunter on the booty trail again, bigging it up at the MGM Grand in Vegas with MJ and Charles.

He's tipping 16 per cent at the local Granola Cafe in Isleworth because he figures that will bust all the rumours about him being a 15 per cent tightwad.

He's still a little irritated that Phil Mickelson, of all people, stole his spotlight on Sunday by winning another Green Jacket.

He's still thinking about Phil giving his wife a hug at the back of the 18th green. The emotion looked real but Tiger's sure it wasn't. He calls up his caddie, Steve Williams, and they have a good laugh about how Phil is still such an idiot.

He's heard Phil always tips $50, even at Waffle House. He's guessing that is why people are always writing nice things about him. He's read that Phil took his daughter to the doctor at Augusta on the eve of the final round after she'd broken her wrist rollerskating. He's read that Phil took his kids to a local coffee shop every morning during the tournament for breakfast and a game of chess. He's thinking Phil must have tipped pretty good to get those stories decent space.

He knows it's only a matter of time until he reels Phil back in anyway. He'll put him in his place at the US Open at Pebble Beach in June.

He'll have discarded all the garbage about being a changed man by then. He hasn't changed at all. Change is for wimps.

He's the best and he makes the most. That's all that matters.