Richard Lees posted on September 08, 2008 15:30
ONE WINS -- THE OTHER DOESN'T
When Camillo Villegas started smelling the finish line in his first Tour victory at the BMW last weekend, it was interesting to note that his demeanor sharpened and elevated and, in fact, turned inward with intensity.
When Sergio Garcia has gotten close, his reactions have been very different: he starts looking up at the sky, at his clubs, at spike marks on greens, at the long grass of the rough he suddenly finds himself stuck in.
When questioned after rounds, Camillo talks of how he's worked, his eyes narrow, and you can see he's leaning on the strength of his workouts, the detail of his routines, the method he's found to focus on his game.
When Sergio is questioned, he talks of himself in the second person, saying things like, "you give it your best shot, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't," or "you hit good putts, but sometimes they don't fall."
On 18 at the BMW, Camillo's eyes widened on the tee, he reared back, and did the opposite of what Johnny Miller was calling for "on the air" -- he hit an aggressive power fade aimed and executed to carry a bunker 290 yards out on the left side of the fairway.
And then when he tapped in for his first victory, he simply closed his eyes, looked inside himself, said yes to all the work he knew went into the moment, and clenched his fist in silent validation.
At Carnoustie, or any number of other close calls, when Sergio doesn't get there, he looks up at the sky, or at his putter, or his opponent.
One looks inward, at himself -- and wins.