Wait! It’s Not Supposed to End This Way, Is It?

I suppose Babe Ruth must have struck out some time with the bases loaded and the pennant on the line, might have popped up in the ninth inning of a World Series game.

You have to figure Michael Jordan missed from the foul line with the game tied some time in his career.

And, maybe, Willie Mays made the third out in the ninth inning of a key game some time, although I have to say I can’t recall it.

Dempsey went down swinging, Arthur Ashe might have missed a key lob at match point. Nolan Ryan might have walked in the winning run at some point in his career.

It could have happened.

And I’ll tell you something: If Tiger Woods is standing on a tee of a par-five 18th hole in a playoff, you’ve got to feel it’ll come out all right. You’ve got to feel sorry for the other guy. For one thing, you know the first thing he’s going to hear out on that fairway is “you’re away!” Or, “I believe it’s you.”

So Billy Mayfair had the role of the foil, just the opponent in another morality play Sunday in the final round of the Nissan L.A. Open. He had managed to stay even with the great man. Now all he had to do was beat him. On a par-five. They make par-fives for Tiger Woods.

There might have been, oh, as many as 12 people in the gallery pulling for Mayfair. His mother and several others. His dogs maybe. The television networks probably wondered why he couldn’t just concede so they could wrap it up and go to 60 minutes. I mean, he wasn’t going to win anyway, was he?

Well, we might not know if Babe Ruth didn’t call his shot. Roberto Clemente might have hit into a double-play in an extra inning, though I doubt it. Maybe Jackie Robinson got thrown out stealing against the Yanks.

And Tiger Woods can be beaten. Pass it around. Or, better yet, don’t pass it around. The general public doesn’t want to know. Next thing you know, someone will be telling them there’s no Easter bunny.

The 1998 Nissan L.A. Open at Valencia was going along swimmingly. Tiger Woods, America’s Team, if you will, had the golf course at his mercy. He had shot a 65 on Friday and was on his way to a 66 on Sunday. The rest of the field was coming apart around him. You were looking around for a Sousa march to accompany Woods into the clubhouse.

Tommy Armour double-bogeyed, Bob Estes double-bogeyed, Scott Hoch had four bogeys in nine holes. John Daly was being John Daly, Payne Stewart was just trying to keep the wheels on.

And Tiger Woods was being Tiger Woods. Birdie-birdie-birdie--six in all.

We had all seen this film before. Bring the family. Nobody could hold that Tiger.

Then there was Billy Mayfair. Now, what can I tell you about Billy Mayfair? Well, first of all, a lot of us old-timers on the tour mix him up with Billy Maxwell. They’re almost the same person. Same build, same flaxen hair, almost same swing.

Billy Mayfair is built along the general lines of a bowling ball. He hits these nice, high, floating shots. He doesn’t overpower a course. He’s won a couple of championships, but mostly he finishes 12th. You can tell right away he’s not Hogan. Tiger Woods might get beat by a Greg Norman, but not a Billy Mayfair.

He began Sunday one shot ahead of Woods, but everybody knew that wouldn’t last. Still, Mayfair kept finding a way to stay in the game. Playing a group behind Woods, he almost apologetically kept abreast. Nothing fancy, just bogey-free golf.

Still, no one took it seriously. Justice would triumph. Poetic justice, at least.

Take Woods on the 18th hole in regulation. He needed a birdie, right?

Now, 18 is a 566-yard hall of horrors with the pin hanging over a sand trap. A Tiger Woods hole.

But he snaps his drive into the right rough. He takes a drop, then winds up like Ruth on a fastball. He swings from the heels. It goes into a sand trap. Frowns, all around.

Not to worry. Woods comes out of that trap with a tricky 15-20 foot putt. He makes it. Tiger always makes those.

But Mayfair comes out of a trap and makes his putt too. Playoff. Sudden death and all that.

It’s O.K. Woods has never lost a playoff in the pros. And he has won three amateur championships at match play.

So, it’s just victory delayed. But wait a minute! Some of us remember playoffs that were anti-history, anti-hero. Didn’t Fleck beat Hogan? Casper beat Palmer? Trevino beat Nicklaus? Simpson beat Watson? Stuff happens.

They tee it up on 18 in the playoff. Mayfair hits a nice, safe, center-fairway shot. Woods tries to rip it. Once again, he’s in the right rough. Once again, he’s like a fighter throwing crazy rights. He tries to muscle a three-wood onto the green, which is protected on four sides by watchdog sand traps. The shot dumps in the rough.

Meanwhile, Billy Mayfair has hit a nice safe second shot. A four-iron. It’s the sensible shot. He’s in the fairway. He is able to spin the ball. He lands it on the green above the hole and it spins back to birdie range. Textbook way to play the hole.

Woods’ shot won’t stop. Out of that rough, it rolls into two-putt range.

So Woods can be beaten. Is beaten. You feel as if Jerry Rice dropped a touchdown in a corner of the end zone, Ken Griffey took a third strike with the tying run on third.

Tiger Woods is 22 years old. Billy Mayfair is 31. Maybe the day will come when he will know it’s wiser to play that layup game.

I hope not. If he does that, he won’t be Tiger Woods. And, hey! Babe Ruth lost the 1926 World Series when he was thrown out stealing with two outs in the bottom of the ninth inning of Game 7. If you’ve got to go out, it’s better to go out trying. Our heroes don’t play for ties.