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19D AGO

Billy Andrade remembers how serendipity – and a new golf ball – changed his fortune in Las Vegas

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    Written by Billy Andrade

    Editor’s note: In 2000, Billy Andrade was in the middle of the worst slump of his career. He then remarkably won when most people – Andrade included – least expected it. The 60-year-old Andrade, an eventual four-time PGA TOUR winner who has also picked up three PGA TOUR Champions titles, reminisces about the dark days of the 1999 and 2000 seasons and how a serendipitous meeting in Palm Springs with a swing coach and the introduction of a new golf ball to the market finally changed his fortunes.

    I signed my name at the bottom of the check, stuck it in an envelope and filled out the address: 112 PGA TOUR Boulevard, Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida, 32082. The check was my entry fee into the 2000 PGA TOUR Q-School.

    Talk about sobering.

    After playing in more than 350 tournaments and picking up three wins since joining the PGA TOUR full time in 1988, I was struggling. For the last year I had played poorly, and most of my trouble was off the tee. I was facing the distinct possibility of going to Q-School to try to re-earn my card to remain exempt.

    I dropped the envelope in the mail.

    But now let’s back up a little, to the 1999 season. That’s when my troubles really started showing up. That year, I missed 12 cuts in 29 starts, and I didn’t have a top 10. I finished the year 118th on the money list, missing four cuts in succession to end the year. I barely kept my card.

    The start of a new season – and a new century – didn’t bring different results. I missed the cut at the Sony Open in Hawaii, so after a short week in Honolulu, I traveled to Palm Springs for the next tournament, the Bob Hope Chrysler Classic (now called The American Express).

    I shot an opening-round 69 at Bermuda Dunes Country Club, but that left me tied for 74th through 18 holes. Two birdies and 16 pars were not going to get it done. In Round 2, I was playing the Arnold Palmer Course at PGA West. I was 3-over standing in the middle of the 18th fairway on the par 5. I decided to go for the green in two, and I almost hit my approach onto the 10th fairway. My ball was 50 yards left of where I was aiming. I bogeyed there and signed for a 4-over 76.

    After the round, I called my wife and said: “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

    Her response? “Well, why don’t you give Billy Harmon a call.”

    Jody knew Billy was based in Palm Springs, so I found the well-known instructor’s number, I called, he didn’t pick up, so I left him a message.

    “I need help. Please call me back,” I said.

    That night I went to dinner with a couple of friends, and as I sat down, I noticed that, amazingly, two tables over sat Billy, having dinner with Don Callahan, the head pro at The Country Club in Brookline, Massachusetts. I walked over, greeted them both and told Billy I had left a message.

    “I don’t know where my ball is going,” I said.

    Billy asked me when my third-round tee time was (back then, the Hope was a five-round tournament), and I told him I was in the last group of the day, playing at La Quinta Country Club.

    “Be at Bighorn (Golf Club) at 6:30 tomorrow morning,” he said matter-of-factly.

    Twelve hours later, I got up, drove to Palm Desert, met Billy at the Bighorn driving range and started hitting balls. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Wow, I didn’t realize how bad you are.”

    It was a typical Harmon line. Billy and his brother Butch are very truthful, and, essentially, what he said didn’t hurt one bit. I knew he was right, which is why I was standing on the range at 6:30 a.m. on a Friday morning. We went through some things, and I felt we had a good session. That afternoon, I started implementing what Billy had suggested. I shot a 64 followed by a Saturday 69, but that wasn’t enough to get me to Sunday. It was another missed cut, but I was encouraged.

    The next week I shot a final-round 65 at TPC Scottsdale for my first made cut of the year, but I only tied for 50th. Six missed cuts in my next eight starts ensued. The process was slow, the results certainly not immediate.

    Even with my poor performances, I was still playing out of the PGA TOUR winners’ category because of my 1998 RBC Canadian Open win. As it worked out, the computer happened to group me for Rounds 1-2 with Tiger Woods at both the Bay Hill Invitational (now Arnold Palmer Invitational presented by Mastercard) and the Memorial Tournament (presented by Workday). So, there I was at Bay Hill and Muirfield Village, trying to figure out my swing while playing alongside Tiger, the No. 1 player in the world, who did tend to attract sizable galleries.

    I was trying to incorporate all this new stuff from Billy, and I was a scared cat because for a while, I really had no trust in what I was doing. Not surprisingly, I missed the cut at Bay Hill and again at Memorial.

    Looking back, though, I can see how important those two tournaments were. Playing with Tiger put me on a stage the whole time, and I knew I couldn’t get sloppy with what I was working on. Everybody was watching. While I didn’t experience any instant success, I think the overhaul I was making while I was playing tournament golf positively accelerated those changes.

    By the time I missed the cut at the (Valero) Texas Open at the end of September, I had missed four consecutive weekends, seven of nine and 12 of 17. I was 174th on the money list. All this explained why I pulled out my checkbook and started investigating Q-School dates.

    But I kept grinding, and in mid-October, I traveled to Las Vegas for the annual event there. Early in the week, I was playing a practice round at Southern Highlands when I ran into Fred Couples. We played the last three holes together. He asked me about my year and was shocked when I told him it was my worst year as a pro, that I was planning on Q-School.

    I was also trying out a new ball that had just come onto the market. Titleist called it the Pro V1. The first time I hit the ball, I was like, “Oh my gosh!” The ball was going so much farther. It literally added 25 to 30 yards on my drives.

    Good things, I would soon learn, were starting to happen.

    Billy Andrade kisses his wife, Jody, after winning the Invensys Classic at the Tournament Players Club Summerlin. (Laura Rauch/Associated Press)

    Billy Andrade kisses his wife, Jody, after winning the Invensys Classic at the Tournament Players Club Summerlin. (Laura Rauch/Associated Press)

    In the first round, I shot a 67 at TPC Summerlin and trailed Bruce Lietzke by four shots. I reduced my deficit to three following a second-round 66 at Desert Inn. I then made my move. Playing at Southern Highlands, I made nine birdies in a bogey-free round, shooting a 63 to put me two shots behind Tom Byrum with 36 holes to play. A fourth consecutive round in the 60s – this time a 5-under 67 Saturday back at TPC Summerlin – gave me a streak of 46 consecutive bogey-free holes and a share of the lead with Tom with a round to play. During that stretch, I made 19 birdies.

    Something was definitely clicking.

    Everybody converged at TPC Summerlin on the final day, and Tom was my playing partner. I didn’t play great out of the gate, bogeying the first hole. I made another bogey at No. 4, with birdies at the third and seventh. I was even through nine and figured I had shot myself out of the tournament. You have to make a lot of birdies at this tournament, right? Jim Furyk, winner of the last two Vegas tournaments, had won in 1999 with a 29-under score, and there I was stalled at 24-under.

    But when I made the turn to the back nine, I looked up at the scoreboard and I was still in the mix. I was only a couple back. Right then I had this clear sense: I have nine holes to go, and you know what? I’m in this thing. Let’s go for it, and I felt extremely calm.

    I liked that feeling. I relished it, and I knew I had closed well in my three previous TOUR wins. I birdied 10 and 11, parred 12 then birdied 13. Just like that, a 3-under run put me in the lead.

    On No. 14, I missed the green left, my ball next to a tree. But I was able to get up-and-down from there for a par, and I made another par at No. 15. Then I took control. I birdied both 16 and 17 and went to the closing hole with a two-shot lead, at 29-under.

    Phil Mickelson had played superbly on Sunday and was the clubhouse leader. He had finished his tournament, posting at 27-under after shooting his second consecutive 66.

    That meant it was my tournament to win. But I over-hooked my 3-wood off the 18th tee, and it looked like my ball might end up in the canyon. Thankfully, the ball cleared the hazard by a few feet, but it was unplayable amid all the rocks. After a drop, I was hitting my third shot on the par 4 to a pin in the back-left portion of the green. I said to myself, “I just have to get this on the green.” My thought process was that I could two-putt from anywhere.

    My 6-iron approach stopped 50 feet from the cup, which meant two putts and I win; three putts and I’m in a playoff.

    As I walked to my ball to mark and get a first look at the line, I glanced behind me and saw Phil standing on the steps that led to the scoring area. He was looking down at me. It did feel like he was watching as if I were facing impending danger, and I immediately knew what he was doing. It was gamesmanship all the way. That fired me up, and I actually loved it.

    My initial thought? It’s not your day, Phil. Not today.

    I sized up my par putt and had the right line. I put a decent stroke on it, but it was a long, tough putt that came up about 5 feet short. When I walked up to mark my ball, I looked at what I had left and started laughing to myself. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was as if I had called the superintendent over and had him mow a line for me. There was not one spike mark on my line, which was unusual because I was in the last group of the day, and back then spike marks on greens were a big deal. The putt was also dead straight – no break. This is the easiest putt in the world, I thought. There’s no way I’m missing this.

    I didn’t.

    When you win, there is always an outpouring of support from family and friends. I was fortunate to have my wife Jody with me all week, with the kids home in Atlanta with Grandma Jean. In my first two wins, I was married but we didn’t have kids, and in my third victory, at the Canadian Open, my kids were too young to understand what was going on. But for my Las Vegas win, my son Cameron was 6 (Grace was 3), and I knew he was watching dad on TV. When you win and you have kids, it’s just a different feeling and so cool that they get to experience it with you even if they’re not there.

    Once I finished all the interviews and everything the champion has to do, we finally went out for a quick dinner with friends, we celebrated a little, then Jody and I caught a red-eye direct to Atlanta. We landed early Monday morning, drove straight home and surprised Cameron and Grace. I then walked Cameron from our house to the bus stop so he could get to school. It was just fantastic spending that time with him.

    That win came with another distinction: I became the first player to win with the Pro V1. I also moved from 159th on the money list to 43rd and walked away with a two-year exemption. The slump was over, and I basically had a second act to my career. I took full advantage.

    As it turned out, there would be no Q-School for me that year. And later that day, I made a call to TOUR headquarters.

    I gave the go ahead to tear up a certain check.