Sometimes, things turn out your way. That certainly happened Sunday in Portland. And I’m not talking about the Thunder-Blazer game.
Watching the Masters coverage on Saturday afternoon came incredible news. Inclement weather was headed to Augusta on Sunday afternoon, so the fourth round was being moved up.
The final group would tee off just before 9:30 a.m. Georgia time. Do the math. That’s just before 6:30 a.m. out West, where we find ourselves for a few days. With an afternoon tipoff for the Thunder, the Masters was going to be played without me.
Then came the schedule change. I woke up around 6:20 a.m. Portland time, flipped on the television, and Tiger was on the first teebox. Viola.
I got to see almost all of the final round. Some in my hotel room. Some on the television in the Residence Inn’s workout room, where I spent 30 minutes on a treadmill. Some on my phone, walking the one mile to the Moda Center. The rest in the press room at the arena, where the interviews are next door so even when we were talking to Terry Stotts and Billy Donovan pregame, we missed just a few minutes of golf coverage. Everyone at the arena was talking about the Masters anyway – Stotts included – so there was no conflict of interest.
Until the 19th hole, it was Tiger’s day.
I like afternoon games anyway – deadlines are the bane of my existence – but to also get to see the Masters was an extra blessing.
Outside of the Thunder’s atrocious shooting, it was a good day.