At 28, Immelman is at fitting age

AUGUSTA, Ga. -- It sounded like a train.

It burst through the shadows and out of the pines, a huge sustained roar steaming across the fairways at Augusta National for long, taunting seconds.

It was Trevor Immelman’s midnight train through Georgia.

“It was just so tough,” Immelman said.

The noise was for Tiger Woods, who had just sunk a long putt on the 11th hole Sunday to pull to within five strokes of the Masters lead.

He was one hole ahead of Immelman, and right on his cleats.

Prayer time at Amen Corner.

“I kept saying to myself, ‘Just hang in there,’ ” Immelman said.

The wind blew pine needles across an 11th green just waxed by Woods. The fans had grown silent after screaming for Woods.

Immelman’s approach shot landed near a drainage area off the green, and this was it.

This is when he would break. This is when the Masters would master.

He had spent the winter being cut by surgeons who removed a benign abdominal tumor. He spent the spring being cut by golf tournaments, including the event last week.

How was a body like this, and a game like this, going to withstand a charge from the greatest golfer in the world?

Immelman chipped to the fringe of the green, carefully held his putter for a difficult putt for par.

This was it. The pressure of this day would later make one of the challengers break down in tears. How on Bobby Jones’ good green earth could a 28-year-old with one previous PGA tournament win survive after hearing that roar?

Two hours later, tucked nicely in a brand-new blazer, Immelman gave his answer.

“I didn’t,” he said.

He didn’t hear the roar?

“I didn’t hear many roars out there today,” he said.

Indeed he didn’t, shutting it all down, all of it, the move from Woods, the murmurs from the fans, the missives from the press.

He shut down our beliefs, and opened our eyes.

“I was just trying to be strong . . . and I hoping I would be good enough,” he said.

And so he was, the best of golfers in the worst of times, a Masters champion who went from straitjacket to green jacket.

He ignored the noise to sink a 15-foot par putt on 11.

He fought out of the pine straw to make bogey on 12.

He calmed long enough to save a double-bogey during a water-coated 16.

Then he saved par on 17 after hitting such a lousy approach shot into a bunker, he dropped his club and put his hands on his head in frustration.

“There’s a disaster waiting around every corner,” he said, “and I showed it.”

Trains everywhere, and he dodged them all, until finally sinking a tiny par putt on 18 to finish the way he finished every day in this tournament -- shaky, sighing, but leading.

Yeah, he not only survived the woods, but finished three strokes better than Woods with an eight-under 280.

“I can’t believe I did it,” Immelman said with relief even a stately South African accent could not disguise.

Yeah, the kid won. Then he showed everyone how he won, just before he left the 18th green, turning to face the cheering crowd and striking a bodybuilder’s pose.

It looked peculiar on that modest frame covered in the black designer gear.

Peculiar, but perfect.

With history tugging at every angle of the 2008 Masters on Sunday, Trevor Immelman won simply by being strong enough to hold it.

“This has probably been the ultimate roller-coaster ride,” he said, “and I hate roller coasters.”

Ah, but we love them, especially at the golf course, and how we loved this day filled with knocking knees and covered eyes.

Woods could have won it, but he missed putts on four consecutive holes after his long birdie, and could never find the touch.

(Incidentally, what does it say about Woods’ talent that he could scuffle around a major tournament for four days and still finish second?)

When Woods finally did sink a birdie putt on the final hole, he dismissively waved his hand at it before trudging into the rest of his summer.

Exit, any chance of his coveted Grand Slam.

Enter, at least a bit of doubt about his ability to handle his frustration over missed putts.

Everybody missed them here. But nobody muttered and moaned and made gestures about them like Woods.

“We figured if we shot something in the 60s, we’re going to be right there with a chance to win and try to put a lot of pressure on Trevor up there,” Woods said. “It turns out that would have been the case. But I didn’t do my part.”

Oh, but there was pressure, just look at Immelman’s playing partner Brandt Snedeker.

The free spirit with the shaggy blond hair actually tied for the lead after sinking an eagle putt on the second hole . . . but promptly fell apart in a round that included a bizarre jumble of nine bogeys and two birdies.

Afterward, during his news conference, he wept.

“Just a rough day out there,” said the 27-year-old. “It’s just part of life, part of growing up. Obviously I need a lot more of that.”

On a day like this, the entire golf world grew up a little bit, noticing that Woods is no longer the young star, realizing that his receding hairline and their perfect putts could combine to make his quest for a record six more major championships at least interesting.

“To win a major while he’s playing . . . and he’s playing at his peak . . . that’s a hell of an achievement,” Immelman said. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever get it done again.”

But after Sunday, will we ever believe it can’t be done again?

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.