Relief, not celebration, is the order of the final day

I am going to let you in on a little secret. I like a good party. Some might say that I like a bad party, too -- but that is neither here nor there.

John Maginnes says gettting your TOUR card at q-school is just the beginning. (WireImage)

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You would think the Monday night that q-school ends would be one of the biggest party nights of the year on the PGA TOUR. There are more winners at this tournament than any other week. Logic would tell you that for the successful qualifiers there would have to be an impromptu bash. But if you know anything about q-school, then you know that logic doesn't govern this week.

For the upcoming rookie class -- whether they are coming off the Nationwide Tour or have just made it through q-school -- the overwhelming emotion is one of hope and mild surprise. You are obviously overjoyed. To make it through q-school, you have to have believed in your heart of hearts that you had the game to survive golf's toughest test. But knowing it and doing it are two different things. At the end of the week you are flooded with relief.

For veterans like Frank Lickliter II, the joy is somewhat tempered. Relief actually is the word of the day. Relief and exhaustion. Sure, there may be a celebratory beverage enjoyed in the lounge at Orange County National on Monday afternoon. But if you glance out the window as you sit there having that beer, you'll see the somber faces that more than a hundred players wear to their cars. Those friends and adversaries came to the finals with the same hopes and dreams that you had just a week ago. Now they will have to wait another year -- or wait forever for the dream to die.

So, while your cell phone rings constantly with the congratulations of everyone who has your number, you ignore most of the calls. You answer the important ones, family, agents and the closest of friends. But there is work to be done. Contracts for the following year must be signed within a couple of days. They are big contracts. Agents will attend to most of that and they will be paid handsomely for the effort. But you don't think of that while you sip your beer. That smile on your face is a product of a validation that can only come from accomplishing something truly extraordinary. It was there during the post-round interviews. It's still there as you accept the toast from your caddy and your friends. But it is a tired smile.

Most players who jumped the high hurdle of q-school won't make it to halftime of Monday night's NFL game. They haven't slept all week. That tossing and turning is replaced by a slumber that can only follow a great feat. So after a time, probably shorter than expected, most qualifiers will make their way back to their hotel. The front desk clerk that they have passed all week offers a polite smile. You think to yourself, I am not the same guy that you smiled at all week. I am a PGA TOUR player, but you don't say anything.

This accomplishment is far more personal than you could have expected. Whether it is your first time through or your fifth, it's never the same. Each time there was something new to overcome. Each time you realize that in some ways you are defined by that number on the board. It doesn't tell your whole story but it tells part of it -- the only part most people who know your name will ever know.

Congratulations to the weary survivors this week. When they wake up on Tuesday morning the world will be a new place. A place filled with satisfaction and possibility. The world will be a place that makes sense again. Each will awaken to the possibility that 2008 will be the best year of their lives. And for some it probably will be. Others will find themselves right back here again next year and more still will never get another chance.

Even as you sip your beer on Monday afternoon and celebrate the week, you know that it was just that -- one week. One week that gave you the opportunity for one year. One week that could be the first sentence in your biography. What a week.