A Sunday Stroll

I’m not going to pretend that I have experience with things like this. This is our first real major championship to cover as a media entity. In fact, the inferiority complex I’ve had all week is borderline overwhelming. For the last week, I’ve been in the same Media Center covering the same tournament as some of the world’s finest sports journalists. They do this job with such precision and gusto week-in and week-out that I catch myself sitting at my workstation and watching them work, their fingers effortless typing up their observations that I can only dream of.

I also have to confront the fact that this week is coming to an end. Every element of the tournament has crescendoed to the culmination of whatever happens today. Mito Pereira – who I couldn’t have picked out of a lineup before this week – is leading by three. But we’re not here to cover who’s winning. We’re here to shine a light on this wonderful, frustrating, beautiful asset our state is offering to the world.

I am a man of sentimentality. This week we’ve been lucky enough to have a particular access to this place, and I honestly don’t know when we’ll be back. I hope it’s soon. I hope we get to continue the relationships we’ve formed with the members and leaders of the club. But I promise you there will be a bittersweet feeling when I get on the shuttle bus tonight to leave this place for the last time.

Not knowing when that next opportunity will come, I need to make the most of it. Long before any competitor arrives – before the sun’s rays of light touch the turf – I’m going to walk the final nine holes. This is quite possibly one of the best collections of tees, fairways and greens on the planet, and certainly my favorite. Before this week concludes, I want that time for myself. I deserve it.

It's chilly this morning. Almost cold, even. In my infinite wisdom, I didn’t bring a jacket. Thank God for the hot coffee in the Media Center. I step outside with my cup and breathe in the crisp morning air. I walk through the outdoor tennis courts located behind the clubhouse and down the hill, where I meet the 10th hole halfway down the fairway. The only other people around are a smattering of grounds crew members, raking each bunker to ensure its consistent playability.

At the low point of the 10th fairway, a creek winds its way through. Back up the hill and to the right of the green, the 11th tee box rises. This is the shortest of the Par 3 holes and plays due east toward Harvard Avenue. There is short grass all around and any wayward tee shot will bounce far away from the putting surface.

As I round the 11th green, Perry Maxwell’s iconic 12th comes into view. A 468-yard dogleg left, guys this week have been bombing it through the fairway. Earlier in the week, Rory had 80 yards in. He made par. Its defense – as with many of the holes here at Southern Hills – is its putting surface. Walking down the hill toward the creek that runs in front of the green, I think about the men who have walked this same fairway. Palmer, Nicklaus, Hogan and nearly every legend in the history of the game. He couldn’t have known the legend it would become when “Old Rooster” suggested that Perry Maxwell should place the green behind the creek. This is one of the iconic Par 4 holes in America.

On the 13th hole, I meet Johnny and Joel, two volunteers who have just reported for duty. They are near the landing area in the laughably undulating fairway. It’s hard to imagine piping one down the middle only to find yourself with some awkward lie and an approach that must clear two small ponds to reach the putting surface.

No. 14 is a Par 3 that parallels 61st Street. Long and exposed to the wind, you are required to hit the right quadrant of the putting surface if you want a chance. Anything straying from the green will most likely catch a bunker. Which – as we’ve learned this week – doesn’t seem to be a fun place to be.

The gates must be open now, because people are starting to show up as I trudge up the 15th fairway. The hole is cut in the lowest bowl on the green, which will entice anyone chasing after the leaders this afternoon.

Sixteen is a tremendous downhill Par 4 that shares short grass with No. 13. Giant trees split the fairway before it comes back together in the runup to the green. This will be a tremendous place to watch the action.

What can I say about No. 17? Playing up at 298 yards, most everyone in the field is going for the green off the tee box. One of the most famous and interesting green complexes on the property will keep everyone on their toes. Not to mention the thousands that will surround this hole to charge it with energy.

The 18th hole at Southern Hills Country Club. Long. Demanding. I can almost guarantee it will play a pivotal role in deciding a champion. As I stand on the back tee of the 498-yard hole, I image what drama could play out here. I think about what the leader - and the contenders - will feel when they step up to this tee box. With the right hole location, we’ll see some wild swingers. I walk along the right side, and the creek soon wanders out from the trees and across the fairway. Could this tranquil, trickling water source also be the source of someone’s demise? We will only know in a few short hours.

Fans have begun staking their spots in the grandstands, where they will sit and watch for the next 12 or so hours. It is peaceful now, but not for long.

A champion will be crowned in Tulsa. And we’re here to witness it.