Phil, by the book: the Masters champion-turned-author shares some favorite memories of life on tour

Golf Digest, April, 2005

From the book One Magical Sunday: But Winning Isn't Everything, by Phil Mickelson with Donald T. Phillips. Copyright [c] 2005 by Phil Mickelson. Publishing April 2005. Reprinted by permission of Warner Books Inc., New York, N.Y. All rights reserved.

PHIL MICKELSON WAS THE KEY FIGURE last April in one of the most gripping finishes in Masters history. In his book, Mickelson takes readers through not only what happened in the final round at Augusta but also behind the scenes of his life on tour. There are laughs, a prank or two, and redemption with his first victory in a major championship. We open in 1993 with Phil and his future wife, Amy, at the Bob Hope Chrysler Classic:

Phil: On Thursday, the day before Amy arrived, I played in the celebrity rotation with Joe Pesci, Mike Ditka and Lawrence Taylor [Hall of Fame linebacker]. When we got to the 18th hole, Ditka hit a couple of shots in the water. Then Pesci hit a couple of shots in the water. And then Lawrence Taylor hit a couple of shots in the water. So my ball was the only one that counted when we got up to the green.

Well, my birdie putt looked good from the moment I stroked it. When it got about 18 inches from the hole, I started walking because I could tell the ball was going right in the middle of the cup.

Then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, another ball came rolling onto the green, hit my ball in mid-roll and deflected it off its path. I looked over in the direction where the ball came from, and Lawrence Taylor was standing there with this sheepish look on his face. He had been practice putting and hit my ball.

"Sorry," he said.

Well, I was really hacked off and started walking toward him to give him a piece of my mind. But he got bigger and bigger as I got closer and closer--and all I could get out of my mouth was: "No problem, L.T."

A couple of months later, I managed to endear myself to Amy's father. I had this event in France, and I asked Amy to go with me. "Hey, why don't we go to Paris together? We'll go for a week and see the Eiffel Tower. What do you think?"

"Oh, I'd love to go," she said, "but I really don't think my dad would let me."

"Come on," I said, "You're an adult."

"I don't think so."

"Tell you what, I'll call your father."

"No, that doesn't sound like such a good idea. Maybe I should call him."

We went back and forth for a week about who should call her father about this trip to Paris. So finally, I called him. "Mr. McBride, I love your daughter," I said. "I'm going to Paris, and it would really be fun if she could go with me. There would be separate rooms, of course."

Gary McBride (Amy's father): You know, that phone call kind of hit me wrong. Phil was nice, very nice. But dads are pretty protective of their daughters. And when he said they would have separate rooms, I was thinking, Right--like there are no hallways.

Amy: After thinking about it for a few seconds, my dad called me up. "Amy," he said, "if you marry Phil, there will be lots of trips. If you don't marry him, then you shouldn't be going on this particular trip. This is your decision, Amy. But you're not going."

So I told Phil, and he agreed with me that I shouldn't go to Paris with him. But we've been married for quite some time now--and I still haven't been to Paris. [Phil and Amy were married Nov. 16, 1996 in Hawaii. Daughter Amanda was born 24 hours after the 1999 U.S. Open ended, and Sophia would arrive two years later.]

Phil: Overall, I had a pretty good year in 2001, although I gained quite a bit of weight because Amy was pregnant. You know how it is: When she would eat, would eat. When she didn't feel great, didn't feel great. I think they call that "sympathy pain."

I didn't feel any pain on the tour, however. As a matter of fact, I was having a lot of fun. At the Bay Hill Invitational, I played a pretty good practical joke on Colin Montgomerie. Monty has a wonderful sense of humor, and he's one of those guys you can always joke around with.

While I was at the tournament, I read an article in which he was asked why he had not won in the United States. He responded by saying that it was very difficult for him to play well because he always received very poor tee times. He said he was always teeing off either very early or very late. On the PGATour, of course, there are very strict rules about who tees off when. They always give midday tee times to those who have already won on tour to accommodate television.

Well, I thought Monty had made an interesting comment. So I asked a friend for a sheet of paper with an official PGATour letterhead, and I wrote this short "official" note to Monty, which I left in his locker:

Dear Colin,

After reading your comments in the newspaper, we at the PGATour Policy Board held an emergency meeting last night to discuss your concerns about these terrible tee times you've been receiving. We think we have a solution:

Win a [freaking] tournament!

Sincerely, The PGATour Policy Board

The next morning, I saw Monty out on the practice green. He would hit a few putts and then go over to his caddie and say, " cannot believe they would send me such a letter!" Then he'd make a few more putts and go back to his caddie. "Can you imagine them doing that?" he'd say.