So Close to a Great Tale

"Why did you change your flight?" I asked.

"I'm not playing in Pennsylvania," he said. "Something's going on with one of the girls and I need to get right back home."

What he was saying was that, instead of flying east from his home in California and then playing in Pennsylvania that week, he was going to fly a red-eye in on Sunday night, play in 'The Bruce,' and then fly back-at his own expense.

"Paul, if you've got something going on at home," I said, "just stay home."

"No," he answered. "I've got Monday covered. I'm not backing out on you and Tom. Let's not discuss it any further."

We didn't. He played. His team won that day and the four guys he played with have been Goydos fans (not because of his golf, because he kept them laughing for five hours) since that day.

The only thing that bothered me Sunday -- other than Paul's failure to get up-and-down on 18 and win the tournament -- was the fact that NBC's announcers kept saying that Paul had won "only," two tournaments on tour. Do people not understand how hard it is to get on tour much less win on tour, much less stay out there for 16 years when you are the worst player in history?

Golf fans everywhere are celebrating Sergio Garcia's biggest win today. (Sorry commissioner, it's still not a major; I might have re-considered if Goydos had won). Everyone is eagerly awaiting -- as they should -- Tiger Woods's return from his knee surgery.

But I'm here to tell you there would have been no better story than Goydos winning on Sunday. As it is, he wrote a remarkable tale this past weekend and, in fact, throughout his career and his life. Not too many ex-inner city school teachers come within a couple inches of winning The Players Championship.

He didn't win. But you can bet I'm proud to say he's still my boy.