Jim Furyk

I've been playing golf and watching golf tournaments ever since my father, an Army officer who once was the commander of the 7th Cavalry unit General Custer led into the Little Big Horn, turned me over to an army golf instructior at the age of 10 and told him to make a lady of me. I had only the vaguest notion what that meant, but through the years it has become more and more clear.
Golf is a game one plays against oneself and for the honor of being able to say, "I made that score, not by cheating on the number of strokes I took or by moving the ball to get a better lie, but by controlling my nerves and muscles long enough to finish 18 holes." Being perfectly honest with oneself is the foundation of the game and it goes hand in glove with being respectful of others and admiring their successes as much as one takes pride in one's own.
I've watched Snead, Palmer, Nicklaus, Love, Couples, Mickelson, Singh and a host of others honor that code of ethics even when they must have been bleeding inside at losses they never would have experienced if only their muscles and nerves had held up.
And, last weekend, I watched the glory that is golf once more. Jim Furyk is a serious and respected golfer. He's quiet and tenacious on the course. I like to watch him play, not only for his unique swing but for his mastery of almost every type of golf shot. But, what we all have seen many times is his inability to hold on to his nerves and muscles to the 72nd green.
Sunday, he made it. Something inside him toughened up and he didn't let the final few holes get the best of him. So, he won the Masters and 12 million dollars, and I can't think of a better person to be the hero of 2010, a year when, heaven knows, we need a hero.
This weekend, it's the Ryder Cup and I truly hope Jim Furyk makes his mark again. He has the stuff of golf greatness, even at 40, if only he can tough it out to Sunday evening.