#Masters legends Sandy Lyle and Larry Mize say an emotional goodbye together

AUGUSTA, Ga. — There are no bad days at the Masters, but there are uncomfortable ones. Saturday dawned so gray, ugly and rain-spitting that even the hardiest of souls, the street preachers and the ticket scalpers along Washington Road, remained indoors. The skies above Augusta National were grim and gray, and the radar promised much more of the same.

Nearly 40 years ago, on beautiful Sunday afternoons, Larry Mize and Sandy Lyle hit two of the most memorable shots in Masters history to capture back-to-back green jackets. Today, on a nasty Saturday morning, their Masters careers came to an end with tiny, unremarkable putts. It was an anticlimactic pair of endings, yes, but both men have spent the last four decades enjoying the sunshine, and seemed fine with a touch of rain.

Thirty-five years ago, in 1988, Sandy Lyle stood in the fairway bunker of the 18th hole, tied for the lead on the tournament’s final hole. Lyle gripped a 7-iron and unleashed a brilliant approach, one that cleared the flag and rolled back to within 10 feet. Lyle drained the birdie putt, and the green jacket was his. He hasn’t missed a Masters since, although he hasn’t made a cut since 2014.

“This is a beast of a golf course,” Lyle said earlier in the week, “and the young ones hit it so much further than me.”

Two of those young ones accompanied Lyle on his final rounds at Augusta. Late Friday afternoon, Jason Kokrak and Talor Gooch soaked up and encouraged applause for Lyle. Kokrak gave the 65-year-old Lyle honors off the 18th tee, then stood on the edge of the green and applauded as Lyle made one last walk up the hill. Lyle touched his hand to his heart and blew kisses toward the gallery, and the moment seemed a perfect way to close out a career.

Then three trees fell elsewhere on the course, and the round was halted just seconds before Lyle could putt out. A small crowd behind the green chanted “Let them putt! Let them putt!” Kokrak was livid on Lyle’s behalf, later calling the decision not to let Lyle finish his career “chickens***.”

“We tried to talk to the official that, you know, ‘Please, let us finish,'” Lyle said. “But, no, they stuck to the rules and rules are rules and we had to abide by that.”

So with 12 feet left in his professional career, Lyle headed back home for the night to enjoy, as he put it, “lots of tequila, and a whiskey tasting about 1 a.m.” He arrived back on the course Saturday morning sporting a replica of the Ping Pal putter that he’d used to win the Masters in 1988. Two strokes later — the only two strokes that club will ever make — Lyle’s career was done, ending just as patrons flowed onto the course.

His family cheered behind the 18th green and embraced him as he walked off for the final time. “I think he’s relieved,” Quentin Lyle, Sandy’s son, said while walking toward the Augusta National clubhouse. “He wasn’t having as much fun.”

Lyle smiled his way through a couple of post-round questions, then paused interviews to walk back toward the 18th green. He wanted to watch the final strokes of the man who’d hung the green jacket on his shoulders.

Back in 1987, Mize authored what might just be the single greatest shot in Masters history: a 140-foot chip-in birdie from a greenside bunker on the second playoff hole, a walk-off stroke that eliminated a stunned Greg Norman. Mize’s story was the kind of legend golf seems to produce every so often — an Augusta kid who grew up working the scoreboard at Augusta National’s third hole playing his way to a miracle Masters win.

“I don’t think [the win] changed me as a person, but other than that, it changed a lot,” Mize said Saturday. “It gave me opportunities. It gave me and my family opportunities to do things we wouldn’t have otherwise done.”

One of those things was the ability to play in every Masters since then. Mize carded a couple more top-10 finishes in the 1990s, but hasn’t made a cut since 2017. He knew coming into the week that this would be his final Masters, which made moments like the Champions Dinner all the more poignant. Mize conceded that he was overcome with emotion when asked to speak.

“This place is just very special to me,” Mize said afterward. “To have played here and won here and to be in that room with those guys is very special, and I just couldn’t keep it together.”

Mize was two groupings behind Lyle, which put him right on the 17th tee as the trees fell. “I’ve never seen anything like that on the golf course,” he said Saturday. “It’s just a miracle that nobody got hurt.”

Once play resumed Saturday morning, Mize worked his way around the 18th hole, his tee game and twitchy putter no match for the beast that Augusta has become. When he walked up to the green, his playing partners let him go on alone, and the gallery — which had filled in by this point — rose to applaud him.

“The fans were great,” Mize, 64, said. “To get a reception like that in weather like this, I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect that at all.”

Mize double-bogeyed the hole, but no one really cared about the score. Lyle walked onto the green to embrace him, and Mize’s wife, Bonnie, and fellow Columbus, Ga., golfer Russell Henley waited a few steps beyond.

“The wives suggested it,” Lyle said, “and I thought about it and said, ‘Yeah, I’m going to go back out there and welcome him to a new era.'”

Both Mize and Lyle have said they intend to come back for future Champions Dinners and Par 3 competitions. Lyle even jokingly suggested the Masters version of an Old-Timers’ Game.

“Maybe in time they will have another little tournament going on within the Masters tournament for the over-60,” he said with a smile. “You never know. Play off the front tees. It would be entertaining.”

One of the Masters’ most treasured elements is its reverence for its past champions. They’re welcomed back forever, and they’re invited to play until it’s clear they’re growing more … let’s just say “seasoned.” But as long as they live, they’ll have their green jackets, their memories, and a week in April to remember one of the greatest moments of their lives.

“It’s just unbelievable, surreal,” Mize said. “Words don’t do it justice to have won here and played here for 40 years. Pretty incredible.”

Originally published April 8, 2023, 7:29 PM