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I had myself in a peaceful sort of mind. I was so relaxed, it was unbelievable. Nerves did rattle me at times, though. The Masters is the only tournament I have played in that my knees still knock on the first tee. The tees at Augusta are real small and the people are on you, breathing on you every hole. If you let it get to you, things can quickly mount – the heat, the crowd, the pressure. But after that first shot, I settled down. Once you learn to play, concentration's the name of the game. If you lose that concentration, you've had it. I remember talking to Hogan one time. I played quite a bit with him. He even gave me the driver that I used to win the Masters. I asked him, "Ben, how do you do that concentration? You're unbelievable the way you concentrate." Everybody's got a way. He said, "When I come out of that clubhouse, I watch the grass grow." Eye-to-eye contact is the worst thing in the world in sports. If you're looking somebody right in the eye, you can't concentrate. They can't concentrate either. "I watch the grass grow. And I pass right by people. I don't even know they're there." That helped me, too. My partner on Sunday was Nichols, a fellow Kentuckian. I grew up in Lexington, Bobby in Louisville. We had known each other since junior golf. We were, and still are, good friends. The seventh hole was a key. I hit a driver and faded just a little too much. I hit it in the fairway, but they've got trees overhanging, and I had to hit a low wedge under a tree. But I pulled it off perfectly. I hit it real low and it spun. It went up on the back of the green, came back and stopped about eight feet from the hole. I made that putt for a birdie. That really fired me up and got me going. My only bogey came on No. 10. The turning point was No. 13, a par 5. That's where I took the lead, with the first of three consecutive birdies. Bobby and I were both 5-under through 12. I hit my drive up the right side of the 13th fairway, and Bobby drove it through the fairway. Next, I hit a 4-wood on the green, about 20 feet short of the hole. Bobby hit a 2-iron over the back, and it went over the green, in the back bunker. Now, he's blasting back towards that ditch, that water. He just got it out. Had he hit it a little harder, he'd have gone into the water. We both two-putted, me for birdie, Bobby for par. The 14th hole, I made about a 25-footer for a birdie, and Bobby matched me with a 15-footer. No. 15, another par 5, I hit a driver and a 4-wood. The second shot hit right by the hole, but wound up over the green. He hit an iron onto the green. I chipped about as best as I could, but left the ball about eight feet from the hole. Bobby just missed sinking his putt for an eagle, but made birdie. And I made my putt for birdie. For most of the day, I was so relaxed that it felt like a practice round. The last couple holes, though, things got tense. The adrenaline was really flowing. But I overcame it. That's why I had given myself that pep talk earlier: "You didn't do it last year. Now, let's do it. Let's finish this thing off." And I did. Pars on the last three holes gave me a 67, an 8-under 280 total and a one-stroke win over Bobby. On the way back to the house, John Y. says to me: "Brewer, do you know what you just did? You won the Masters!" It shocked them more than it did me. It didn't hit me until a couple days later. Of course, you have to putt well to win a major. Everything was working for me that day. I hit the driver good. I chipped. Did everything like I should. Once you win the Masters, you're an honorary member, and I still enjoy playing the course. I get the red-carpet treatment. But I can't take guests, so it can be hard to find a game. Not a lot of people play there. Sometimes I hook up with Billy Casper. It's a thrill just play Augusta. The tradition of that place is unbelievable, and the history. It's a perfect setting. If they've got an Augusta National in heaven, that's where I want to go.
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