Woods Is Right Where Mickelson Wants Him

It was four hours that echoed a lifetime.

Tiger Woods was walking off the second tee at Augusta National on Saturday when a distant cheer rattled through the pines.

What was that?

Phil Mickelson, one twosome ahead, making birdie.

Woods was walking up the fairway at No. 14 when a distant gasp and groan awakened the dogwoods.

What happened?

Mickelson, down at the green, making a double bogey.

On a day as still as the old men sitting on the clubhouse veranda, most of the third round of the Masters was about the sound of two careers.

Woods was the show. Mickelson was the background music.

Until that putt.

It was Mickelson’s final putt, a 10-footer for birdie on the final hole.

The ball grabbed the lip and dropped in. The crowd stood and roared. Mickelson roared with them.

He pumped his fist as he has rarely pumped it before.

He wiped away that melted-Milk-Duds smile as he should have done long ago.

He glared like a man who had just finished a five-year fight into a change of scenery.

From behind Tiger Woods’ back to in his face.

Thanks to that putt, this is where Mickelson will start today in a final-round pairing that could have been written by Faulkner and scripted by Arnie.

Woods and Mickelson. Tiger and Phil. Forty-five other players teeing off before them, and few will notice.

Woods is the world’s top-ranked player trying to win his fourth major championship in 9 1/2 months. Mickelson is the world’s second-ranked player trying to win his first major championship, period.

A guy chasing a record versus a guy chasing a dream.

A guy trying to make a final payment on greatness versus a guy who would be thrilled to just share.

That was Mickelson’s word late Saturday afternoon, when asked what he thought about hanging on the final day with Woods.

“I hope he’s in a sharing mood,” he said.

Not coincidentally, that was not Woods’ word.

“I’m in a competing mood,” he said.

With a 12-under-par 204, Woods leads the tournament.

With an 11-under-par 203, Mickelson is second, but he has a chance to become the first golfer in the Masters’ 65-year history to shoot all four rounds in the 60s.

Woods and Mickelson. Same sport, different universes.

With a smile that disguises gritted teeth, Woods saps the emotion out of any notion.

The historical implications of today?

“I haven’t thought about it. I’m kind of thinking about my swing right now. Going to go to the range and work on it.”

But, c’mon, you could do something that some of us may never see again in our lifetime.

“I hope you live longer, then,” he said.

With a face that disguises nothing, the other guy practically sweats emotion.

“I desperately want this, very much so,” Mickelson said. “I have been preparing, not just this past year, not just this past 10 years, but since I was a little kid, picking up range balls at a driving range so I could practice as much as I needed to, dreaming of this day.”

Your head cheers for the win that will change history.

But your heart cheers for the win that will change a life.

You think back to that rainy day in 1999 at Pinehurst, the last round of the U.S. Open. Leading by one stroke with three holes left, Mickelson lost the duel with Payne Stewart.

On the green afterward, the winner classily took the vanquished’s head with both hands and looked him in the eye.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You will win one.”

Stewart was later killed in a plane crash, and Mickelson is still waiting.

Eighteen tour victories, and not one of the four big ones.

A tour victory as an amateur 10 years ago, and still, no big one.

A second place in the U.S. Open. A third place in the Masters and PGA Championship. An 11th place in the British Open.

“After you win as an amateur, you think you might get four or five major championship by now,” he said earlier this week.

The reason he has failed has always been something he has been afraid to admit, but something that has separated him from Woods like left-handed from right-handed.

Woods has been nails. Mickelson has been tacks.

Woods has grown under pressure. Mickelson has shrunk.

Woods has been the sort of guy who will come from behind and win the Bay Hill Classic by shooting a birdie on the 18th hole after a nutty shot from a ditch.

While Mickelson is the sort of guy who, having finished in a tie for the lead, will stand in the tent with his wife and placidly watch him.

This just happened, and was one of the reasons Mickelson was so thrilled to putt his way into Woods’s twosome late Saturday.

“I did not want to have what happened to me at Bay Hill happen again,” he said. “I wanted to be playing with him, and know where we stand.”

Even in those words, you can tell, Mickelson stands this week with a far different posture than in previous years. The slouch is gone. The grip is tighter.

He put a ball in the water on the 12th hole Friday, leading to a double bogey. Then he birdied three of the last six holes to make up for it.

He flopped a bad chip on the 14th green Saturday, leading to a double bogey. Then he birdied the last two holes to make up for it.

“You could attribute it to mental toughness, or you could attribute it to improved ball-striking, improved putting,” said Mickelson, who ended Woods’ six-tournament winning streak last year at Torrey Pines. “I think I would attribute it to the latter.”

Call it what you want, but there may only be one person in the world currently capable of staring down a first-place Tiger Woods in the final round of a major golf championship.

It’s Phil Mickelson, and he’s bringing the noise.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.