Woods Is the Driving Force

McLaughlin pledged $2.5 million to the club for its trouble. That's not big money by Congressional's standards, Long said, but it would help renovate the short-game practice area and improve the tennis courts.

"I called Tiger after I left to tell him that I thought it went pretty good," McLaughlin said. "He said, 'Well, how did they vote? Did we get it?' I told him there was a 21-day ballot. So we have to wait 21 more days. He said, 'Oh my God!' But things were trending in a positive way."

On April 6, the club announced that 1,204 of its 1,600 voting members had voted to approve. Just 120 voted no.

"It's all because it was Tiger," Congressional General Manager Michael Leemhuis said.

Congressional agreed to host Woods's tournament only through 2008. And because of the USGA events in 2009 and 2011, Long doesn't expect the AT&T National to return until 2012 at the earliest.

"Congressional is a big-time country club," Long said. "It does well when we have these tournaments. It shines. We're not looking for them all the time. But we like them occasionally."

He paused, then added: "Congressional is not interested in becoming a tour stop. . . . We're going to catch our breath in 2010."

McLaughlin would leave that to another day. The yes vote in his pocket, he had the go-ahead to set up operations at Congressional.

* * *

'Strain on Everyone'

McLaughlin moved his office into a squat, cinder block building that sits down a hill from the looming presence of Congressional's picturesque Spanish colonial clubhouse. The only natural light came through a small window that looked out onto a drainage pipe.

The irony wasn't lost on McLaughlin. Here he was, charged with putting on a $14 million tournament in what amounted to an auxiliary caddie shack.

With little time to scour the local job market, he had asked seven employees of the Woods foundation, many of whom had experience running golf tournaments, to move with him from California. Their responsibilities ranged from overseeing the construction of the hospitality tents, bleachers and skyboxes to coordinating the parking plan and the nearly 2,000 volunteers.

"Everyone here is married or dating or whatever, so it definitely puts a strain on your relationships," McLaughlin said. "But everyone has taken the attitude . . . that it's a total of 116 days. It's a great opportunity. So we just kind of do it."

A trim man of moderate height who slicks back his dark brown hair to cover some thinning, McLaughlin routinely wears dress slacks and a sports coat, even on days when he is outdoors in the heat. He speaks calmly and deliberately, measuring his words carefully. The scene in his makeshift office belied his appearance.

Tacked to the beige walls were dozens of documents, letters, contracts and yellow Post-it notes, each representing an unfinished piece of business. A calendar behind McLaughlin's desk had just four months -- April, May, June and July. Some days were circled. Others had notes and phone numbers scribbled on them.

There were five desks, two sofas, a refrigerator and a coffee table that was covered with course maps and schematics for the grounds. A folding table along one wall had a coffee maker, a basket of fruit and granola bars. As April stretched into May, the table also often became the place where McLaughlin and the others picked up their breakfast, lunch and sometimes dinner.

The days became so long that McLaughlin asked Congressional for a guest room in the clubhouse, so he could avoid a traffic-choked trip around the Beltway from the apartment he was renting in Tysons Corner. Now, home was a one-minute walk across the parking lot and the majority of his driving was done behind the wheel of a golf cart.

"There have been a few days when I wasn't there [mentally] when I should have been there," McLaughlin said. He missed his wife and two teenage daughters. "It kind of takes its toll on you. It puts a strain on everyone, just being gone for so long."

McLaughlin has flown home eight times, most recently to attend one daughter's high school graduation.

"She's going to Georgetown" this fall, McLaughlin said. "How ironic is that?"

* * *

'Are You Behind?'

On the afternoon of May 29, McLaughlin's black sport-utility vehicle passed through the stately gates at Congressional. In the passenger seat was Tiger Woods.

Woods had flown to Washington on his private jet from his home in Orlando for a news conference, but more importantly, to get a status report on the tournament. Woods wanted to tour the reconfigured Blue Course, which has been adjusted from its standard par 72 to a more challenging par 70, as it was for the '97 Open.

"The first thing he said to me when we got here was, 'When are they going to put the tents up?' " McLaughlin said. "He goes, 'Are you behind? When are you going to start?' "

McLaughlin pulled up in front of the tournament office. It was about 1:45 p.m. and Woods was scheduled to speak to the media at 2:30, then board his jet around 4 for a flight to Columbus, Ohio, where he was to play in the Memorial later in the week.

McLaughlin and Woods headed immediately to a golf cart, hopped on and sped off. The course was busy and Woods's presence created a stir as the two weaved across fairways and ducked between greens. A foursome that was preparing to tee off stopped and stared as the cart whizzed past. Moments later, two young boys on a nearby fairway smiled and waved. McLaughlin waved back. Woods, suffering from strep throat, stared straight ahead.

The cart came to a stop on the path next to the tee box of the par-4 sixth. Woods, wearing a white golf shirt and hat, black slacks and black wraparound sunglasses, climbed off and walked up to the box.

"Which tees? The black ones?" he said, pointing at the ones farthest from the hole. "No," McLaughlin responded, "these," pointing to tees about 30 yards closer. Woods turned away without responding -- but he didn't like the answer.

"He wanted the tees at 525" yards, McLaughlin said. "I said, 'Okay, sounds good to me,' and I made a note of that [to] talk to the rules staff. Ultimately, it's [the PGA Tour's] decision. But they take input from tournaments and hosts, especially when that person is the number one player in the world."

The pair made two more stops -- first at a path overlooking the 18th green, where Woods reminisced briefly about the U.S. Open a decade ago, then to chat for a moment with groundskeepers -- before returning to the clubhouse.

"It's hard to do," Woods said, when asked about McLaughlin's task. "You don't do that with golf tournaments, especially on this scale. It doesn't happen. It takes an effort level that is unmatched and certainly [a] commitment to excellence. Everybody here . . . has been tremendous in making it all happen."

* * *

'A New Standard'

A few weeks later, McLaughlin was again on a golf cart, but this time he was with a foundation employee when he noticed a problem. The cart had barely stopped rolling before McLaughlin hopped off. As he surveyed the empty gravel foundation where the enormous welcome tent would eventually sit, a five-foot high mound of dirt caught his eye.

"When's this going to get done?" he snapped, turning to one of his employees. "I've been looking at this for months. You're not worried? Let's get someone on this today."

Like most mornings, McLaughlin was juggling phone calls, coordinating projects spread across Congressional's 580 acres, and racing from one meeting to the next. Only 20 days remained until the first player would hit his opening drive.

"Where are we going to put the players-only john?," he asked, before suggesting it go on the sixth hole. "There's more privacy over there."

Given the compressed time frame, McLaughlin wasn't able to bid out contracts for much of the infrastructure and services he needed, such as scaffolding, bleachers, portable toilets. Some of the added expense would fall to AT&T, but McLaughlin said he wanted to ensure that the National would be a "first-class" tournament.

"Coming into this, it was our goal to set a new standard," he said. "So we went to blue-chip vendors."

By last week, the grounds had finally begun to look ready. Even so, there was a stream of deliveries at McLaughlin's office and the sound of hammers and nail guns echoed throughout the course.

A $100,000 pedestrian bridge that will allow spectators to cross Bradley Boulevard was installed Thursday after being built offsite to minimize traffic disruptions. It was part of an elaborate $1 million parking plan that, McLaughlin hopes, will get players, spectators, dignitaries and volunteers to and from the course. There is minimal parking at Congressional, and the roads in the neighborhood cannot handle the increased volume of cars, so the tournament will use 125 shuttle buses to ferry fans from 18 satellite parking lots, some as far away as McLean. A similar system was used for the 1997 U.S. Open.

There were some last-minute hiccups. A plan to have a separate entrance for the military -- members of the armed forces are being allowed into the tournament free -- was nixed last week when the Pentagon said it could not provide the vehicles to get them to the gate.

McLaughlin said he won't really know how things worked out until next Sunday evening, sometime after the first winner of the AT&T National is crowned.

"The key is getting it done right in four months," he said. "But if you do it, five years from now you look back and say what a great and unbelievable thing we did."