AUGUSTA, Ga. — Even the most pyrotechnic of sporting careers is more apt to end with a damp squib than with a glittering display of brilliance. Sculpted bodies eventually cease cooperating, seemingly inconsequential injuries don’t heal, and luminous skills grow dull. Ted Williams was a rarity in many respects, but never moreso than when he homered in his final at-bat. Fortunate legends might enjoy a last teasing fly-ball, but most conclude matters with a weak grounder years after they ought to have headed for the showers.
The belief that one can clear the fences one more time usually endures well beyond the likelihood of actually doing so. This is particularly true in golf, a sport that permits athletes to remain competitively relevant much longer than any other endeavor in which equipment isn’t bearing the brunt of the labor.
