Cameron Davis came to the 10th hole at Augusta National in the third round, tied for 4th at the Masters. He was 2-under for the day, 5-under for the tournament, and seemingly had control of his golf ball. He came to the 10th tee intending to hit a low draw into the fairway’s speed slot, but he overcooked it deep into the trees. Two shots later, he was well over the green and playing a delicate chip to a dangerous pin, which he caught a little heavy. The ball came up short and rolled back to his feet. Moving day had come to a grinding halt. You could see the anxiety and frustration mount. Oh no, I thought. I’ve seen this movie before.
It was a rainy September afternoon in 2017 in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, when I stepped on the tee with Davis at Bell Bay Golf Club. We were playing a practice round for the Cape Breton Open on PGA Tour Canada and this would be the first time I’d get to see the young Aussie hit a golf shot – one I wouldn’t forget.
The hole was a narrow, uphill par 4 and the tall 22-year-old Davis stood over some kind of driving iron. Davis’ backswing was unhurried and wide, stopping short of parallel before he delivered a rhythmic, powerful downswing. The ball flew fast and steadily down the fairway, cutting through the wind and never wavering. I couldn’t tell how far it went, but I sensed it would be difficult to reach with my own driving iron. I had never heard of this kid before, and yet knew immediately he possessed special powers.
On the way up the first hole, we chatted about our seasons; Davis made about half his cuts on the developmental circuit in his first full year as a pro and had yet to crack the top-25. He had been away from home for most of the year and hadn’t seen his family and girlfriend for months. Davis was calm and quiet, perhaps an introvert who hadn’t yet adjusted to life on the road. His endearing smile and humble innocence contrasted with his fierce ball speed. He put on an impressive stripe show, lighting up the gray course that day and throughout the week. He went on to post his only top-20 of the PGA Tour Canada season.
Three months later, a talented pro and uplifting bloke whom I traveled with all around South Korea – and watched win on the Korean Tour – Andrew Tschudin, picked up Davis’ bag at the Australian Open. A laid back “Tschuds” and his competitive experience proved elevating for Davis. Davis introduced himself to the golf world that week by winning at The Australian Golf Club, outdueling Jordan Speith and Jason Day in the final round. A star – and successful partnership – was born.
The following year, Davis and I earned Korn Ferry Tour status and were paired together for the first two rounds of the Nashville Golf Open. The course was fast and firm, with greens that became humorously slender in sections, requiring precision and thoughtful course strategy. Tschuds and I reminisced about eating mystery food in Asia, strange hotels we stayed in, being guests of the South Korean mafia (story for another time), and his playing days, which I was very much in awe of as a young pro. It was clear he was a positive force for Davis. Davis played two solid opening rounds shooting 67-71, the highest scores he could have shot with his uninspired putter. On the weekend, the pieces came together: Davis shot 67 in the third round, and a scorching 65 on Sunday clinched the tournament. His PGA Tour card was nearly locked up.
In 2019, Davis and I were paired together in the PGA Tour’s 3M Championship at TPC Twin Cities. That first season on the PGA Tour had been hard on Davis and he’d missed 7 of his last 9 cuts leading up to the event. He played steadily, opening with 70, and as the wind and rain set in late in the second round, he birdied his 15th and 17th holes (holes 6 and 8 with our back 9 start). We were the last group on the course and Davis was 5-under, one inside the cut line. I was going to miss the cut and the gloomy conditions reflected my mood when we arrived on our closing hole – the 9th, a 500 yard par 4 to a green protected by water.
Davis flared his tee shot under a large tree, which may have saved the ball from finding the penalty area. Good news: he had drawn a near perfect lie under the tree, but still had to contend with some branches. The pin was tucked in the far right corner of the green, an area with very little depth protected by water in the front, and a deep bunker in the back. As my caddie and I walked up the fairway, we expected Davis to play a conservative layup shot well left and short of the green. I couldn’t imagine Tschuds would let Davis take on the green, so when Davis’ ball launched over the water and straight at the flag, my caddie and I were surprised. The shot flew over the water, over the green and into the back bunker. He was dry, but it would leave a frightening bunker shot to a green running away from him towards the water. He wouldn’t have any margin for error.
There was a scoreboard next to the green and a small gallery watching. A few members of another player’s entourage took their places alongside the green, knowing we were the last group that could move the cut. Because the number of players inside the cutline was exactly 65 (the number that makes the cut on the PGA Tour), if Davis were to somehow collapse and make double bogey, the cutline would fall a full stroke and give all the players at 3-under a weekend tee time. Davis just had to make double or better, but the scoreboard behind the green said the cut was 4-under. Davis didn’t know the cut score would be determined by his finish.
He examined the shot; he could try to hit a high spinner that barely landed on the green and grabbed close to the hole – a dangerous play with water behind his target – or play safely away from the hole out to the right. He probably wouldn’t make par this way, but it took double bogey off the table. He opted for the high spinner, going straight under the ball in the wet sand. Now, thinking he had to make bogey to make the cut, he tried the same shot again and barely advanced the ball out of the bunker. It stuck in the gnarly, wet rough. You could barely breathe watching the unfolding debacle.
Davis thought he had to hole the delicate chip to make the cut, but all he had to do was get it up and down. He tried to blast the ball out of the nestled lie and the ball came out faster than expected, running 12 feet past the hole. Davis thought he had missed the cut and some of the on-lookers behind the green rejoiced loudly; the cut was going to move, allowing their friend to play the weekend. The sound of their celebration was triggering, and everyone glared at them as they ran off. Davis looked defeated. Tschuds looked numb. The crowd was now eerily silent. My heart was in my throat. The shell-shocked Davis went through the motions, hit a poor putt and missed the cut.
In the scoring area, Davis looked devastated. His head was in his hands and he avoided eye contact. He sat there for an extra few seconds after the scores were official, trying to summon the strength to get up. All I could do was pat him on the shoulder as I left the tent. I saw him later in the locker room and tried to offer some encouragement, but what do you say to someone at their funeral?
Fortunately, Davis recovered and didn’t have to play with me again. He and Tschuds improved slowly, and two years later, they won the Rocket Mortgage and made over $2.7 million that season. Davis made the cut in his first-ever Masters, and last season finished T-6 at The Players and a T-4 at the PGA Championship, earning another tee time at Augusta.
The windy, crispy conditions at this year’s Masters, and the speedy, rolling hills of Augusta must remind Davis of some of his home courses – perhaps of The Australian, where Augusta’s architect, Alistair Mackenzie, updated the country’s oldest golf course, and Jack Nicklaus later lent his eye for course design. Many of the holes fit Davis’ right-to-left shot shape and versatile trajectory.
Davis stung his driving iron off the 7th tee in the third round at Augusta National and the nearby patrons reacted with the same awe I had in Nova Scotia 7 years ago. On 10, he scooped his fourth – a chip from behind the green – and the ball repelled back to his feet. He played a full flop shot that nearly went in and saved double bogey. After a poor approach and a worse chip on 11, he was dragging his club while speed-walking to his ball. You could feel his frustration through your wifi connection. Then he hit a perfect birdie putt on 12 that caught the high side and lipped out. Tschuds stood on the side of the green with a poker face. After a perfect drive at the par 5 13th, Davis rinsed an iron into the creek. It felt like this round – and Davis’ chances – might end in total disappointment.
Davis’ competitive experience now exceeds Tschudin’s, who faithfully carries his player’s bag and spirits around Augusta National. Those spirits were lifted when Davis’ 18 foot birdie try on 14 found the cup, but an aggressive fairway metal at the 15th landed softly, just short of the front edge, and rolled back into the water. “I hit it perfect,” Davis said, shuffling forward. His 4th shot saved the day and perhaps his chances. Davis hit a head-high shot that took a few skips and slammed on the brakes just inches short of the hole. Par and a smile.
His makeable birdie putts grazed the hole at 16 and 17, and his approach at the last sailed over the top of the flag onto the back fringe. He tapped in for par on 18 and escaped with a 1-over par 73, 2-under through three rounds. He’ll enter the final round 2-under and five shots behind leader Scottie Scheffler. But he has a chance.
After riding the precipice of disaster in the 3rd round, a resilient Davis is poised to make a Sunday run at the Masters. A green jacket would be hard-earned and fitting.
On the way up the first hole, we chatted about our seasons; Davis made about half his cuts on the developmental circuit in his first full year as a pro and had yet to crack the top-25. He had been away from home for most of the year and hadn’t seen his family and girlfriend for months. Davis was calm and quiet, perhaps an introvert who hadn’t yet adjusted to life on the road. His endearing smile and humble innocence contrasted with his fierce ball speed. He put on an impressive stripe show, lighting up the gray course that day and throughout the week. He went on to post his only top-20 of the PGA Tour Canada season.
Three months later, a talented pro and uplifting bloke whom I traveled with all around South Korea – and watched win on the Korean Tour – Andrew Tschudin, picked up Davis’ bag at the Australian Open. A laid back “Tschuds” and his competitive experience proved elevating for Davis. Davis introduced himself to the golf world that week by winning at The Australian Golf Club, outdueling Jordan Speith and Jason Day in the final round. A star – and successful partnership – was born.
The following year, Davis and I earned Korn Ferry Tour status and were paired together for the first two rounds of the Nashville Golf Open. The course was fast and firm, with greens that became humorously slender in sections, requiring precision and thoughtful course strategy. Tschuds and I reminisced about eating mystery food in Asia, strange hotels we stayed in, being guests of the South Korean mafia (story for another time), and his playing days, which I was very much in awe of as a young pro. It was clear he was a positive force for Davis. Davis played two solid opening rounds shooting 67-71, the highest scores he could have shot with his uninspired putter. On the weekend, the pieces came together: Davis shot 67 in the third round, and a scorching 65 on Sunday clinched the tournament. His PGA Tour card was nearly locked up.
In 2019, Davis and I were paired together in the PGA Tour’s 3M Championship at TPC Twin Cities. That first season on the PGA Tour had been hard on Davis and he’d missed 7 of his last 9 cuts leading up to the event. He played steadily, opening with 70, and as the wind and rain set in late in the second round, he birdied his 15th and 17th holes (holes 6 and 8 with our back 9 start). We were the last group on the course and Davis was 5-under, one inside the cut line. I was going to miss the cut and the gloomy conditions reflected my mood when we arrived on our closing hole – the 9th, a 500 yard par 4 to a green protected by water.
Davis flared his tee shot under a large tree, which may have saved the ball from finding the penalty area. Good news: he had drawn a near perfect lie under the tree, but still had to contend with some branches. The pin was tucked in the far right corner of the green, an area with very little depth protected by water in the front, and a deep bunker in the back. As my caddie and I walked up the fairway, we expected Davis to play a conservative layup shot well left and short of the green. I couldn’t imagine Tschuds would let Davis take on the green, so when Davis’ ball launched over the water and straight at the flag, my caddie and I were surprised. The shot flew over the water, over the green and into the back bunker. He was dry, but it would leave a frightening bunker shot to a green running away from him towards the water. He wouldn’t have any margin for error.
There was a scoreboard next to the green and a small gallery watching. A few members of another player’s entourage took their places alongside the green, knowing we were the last group that could move the cut. Because the number of players inside the cutline was exactly 65 (the number that makes the cut on the PGA Tour), if Davis were to somehow collapse and make double bogey, the cutline would fall a full stroke and give all the players at 3-under a weekend tee time. Davis just had to make double or better, but the scoreboard behind the green said the cut was 4-under. Davis didn’t know the cut score would be determined by his finish.
He examined the shot; he could try to hit a high spinner that barely landed on the green and grabbed close to the hole – a dangerous play with water behind his target – or play safely away from the hole out to the right. He probably wouldn’t make par this way, but it took double bogey off the table. He opted for the high spinner, going straight under the ball in the wet sand. Now, thinking he had to make bogey to make the cut, he tried the same shot again and barely advanced the ball out of the bunker. It stuck in the gnarly, wet rough. You could barely breathe watching the unfolding debacle.
Davis thought he had to hole the delicate chip to make the cut, but all he had to do was get it up and down. He tried to blast the ball out of the nestled lie and the ball came out faster than expected, running 12 feet past the hole. Davis thought he had missed the cut and some of the on-lookers behind the green rejoiced loudly; the cut was going to move, allowing their friend to play the weekend. The sound of their celebration was triggering, and everyone glared at them as they ran off. Davis looked defeated. Tschuds looked numb. The crowd was now eerily silent. My heart was in my throat. The shell-shocked Davis went through the motions, hit a poor putt and missed the cut.
In the scoring area, Davis looked devastated. His head was in his hands and he avoided eye contact. He sat there for an extra few seconds after the scores were official, trying to summon the strength to get up. All I could do was pat him on the shoulder as I left the tent. I saw him later in the locker room and tried to offer some encouragement, but what do you say to someone at their funeral?
Fortunately, Davis recovered and didn’t have to play with me again. He and Tschuds improved slowly, and two years later, they won the Rocket Mortgage and made over $2.7 million that season. Davis made the cut in his first-ever Masters, and last season finished T-6 at The Players and a T-4 at the PGA Championship, earning another tee time at Augusta.
The windy, crispy conditions at this year’s Masters, and the speedy, rolling hills of Augusta must remind Davis of some of his home courses – perhaps of The Australian, where Augusta’s architect, Alistair Mackenzie, updated the country’s oldest golf course, and Jack Nicklaus later lent his eye for course design. Many of the holes fit Davis’ right-to-left shot shape and versatile trajectory.
Davis stung his driving iron off the 7th tee in the third round at Augusta National and the nearby patrons reacted with the same awe I had in Nova Scotia 7 years ago. On 10, he scooped his fourth – a chip from behind the green – and the ball repelled back to his feet. He played a full flop shot that nearly went in and saved double bogey. After a poor approach and a worse chip on 11, he was dragging his club while speed-walking to his ball. You could feel his frustration through your wifi connection. Then he hit a perfect birdie putt on 12 that caught the high side and lipped out. Tschuds stood on the side of the green with a poker face. After a perfect drive at the par 5 13th, Davis rinsed an iron into the creek. It felt like this round – and Davis’ chances – might end in total disappointment.
Davis’ competitive experience now exceeds Tschudin’s, who faithfully carries his player’s bag and spirits around Augusta National. Those spirits were lifted when Davis’ 18 foot birdie try on 14 found the cup, but an aggressive fairway metal at the 15th landed softly, just short of the front edge, and rolled back into the water. “I hit it perfect,” Davis said, shuffling forward. His 4th shot saved the day and perhaps his chances. Davis hit a head-high shot that took a few skips and slammed on the brakes just inches short of the hole. Par and a smile.
His makeable birdie putts grazed the hole at 16 and 17, and his approach at the last sailed over the top of the flag onto the back fringe. He tapped in for par on 18 and escaped with a 1-over par 73, 2-under through three rounds. He’ll enter the final round 2-under and five shots behind leader Scottie Scheffler. But he has a chance.
After riding the precipice of disaster in the 3rd round, a resilient Davis is poised to make a Sunday run at the Masters. A green jacket would be hard-earned and fitting.
0 Comments