Chapter 22

LOVE, MARRIAGE & THE OPEN

“Temporarily! At the moment, I am an ambidextrous golfer. I played the front nine in 31, only with irons, from both sides, against Phil, Tiger and Adam. We’re practicing again tomorrow, unless you need us for something?” I asked.

“No, honey ... that’s all right. John and I will use tomorrow to catch up to the time change. Don’t change anything for us ... we’re all right,” my lovely mother remarked.

“All right then, we’re headed home to our hostel. Maybe tomorrow night we can all go out to dinner. Check with John ... love you!”

We only played the back nine the following day. It was rather windy, but my training from Ernie and Nick, paid off. I had a one under par round of 34. Putting the two together would be a six under round of 65, but I don’t expect to play that well. I only need to win, not trounce the field or blister the course. Cory and I will make it work ... together.

That night, John and Julia dropped by, and we went off to the Dome, a place that John had been to in the past. The Dome used to be the Commercial Bank of Scotland with ionic columns giving it a very regal stature. In 1993, all was moved into the St. Andrew Square office, and this large erection was put up for sale.

We were eating in the Grill Room. John was spouting off these details, impressing the hell out of Cory and me. Knowing we weren’t drinkers, John got a bottle of expensive wine for he and Julia to partake of. We all ordered something different. We noticed that John enjoyed the sharing of a dinner with his companion as much as Cory and I do.

All through dinner we talked about the upcoming wedding and party afterwards. Both were planned for the Gyle Public Park, that John would show us after dinner. He is bringing in a covered portion, in case of weather. His best friend, Dr. Lloyd Neffeir, accounts for all else. He is the Best Man; I am giving Julia away, and Cory is the Maid of Honor. Only three days away. Neither of them looks even slightly nervous.

The morning of the wedding, there was a rush of activity at the beautiful park that had been selected. Besides the covering, lights encircled the 350 seats. There was a plastic three-foot high fence all around the enclosed area. A tactical way of saying, ‘If you don’t belong here, go away!’

By the time it was four pm, everyone coming had sat down ready for the event. I saw many pro golfers in their Sunday finest, some with wives and children. Few chairs were empty.

I was in a dark-gray tuxedo, and Cory had her hair up, and a sleeveless violet dress on. She was a vision to behold.

The music began. At first, it was the Canon in D, played by a live pianist and violinist. John’s little niece, Alena, walked out first dropping petals on the long white runner that was beneath her feet.

The rest of us came up in pairs. I took the white-gloved hand of Cory, wondering why ... we couldn’t have had one of these ourselves. We were both crying as the music played in a majestic manner.

After all of us were at the front, with John, the music changed to Mendelsohn’s traditional March of the Bride. I walked quickly, and got there to take Julia’s hand, as everyone stood up, waiting as we approached John and the rest of the wedding party.

The priest raised his hands and spoke, “Please, sit down?”

“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

“I do,” I said, letting go of her hand and noiselessly getting back into my groomsman’s position. I stood between Mom and Cory.

“John, please take Julia by the left hand.”

He did, and they each gave wonderful marvelously humorous vows to another.

The priest asked for the rings, which the good doctor took out of his pocket, opened the velvet pouch and presented it to the priest.

“These rings have no beginning and no end. It signifies the perfection of true love. Julia, place this ring on John’s finger. Now John, place this ring upon Julia’s finger.”

The priest took hold of the hands without rings and recited, “May the love of this man and this woman be in the eyes of the Lord and these people here today.”

“Do you, John Forney, take this woman Julia Masters, as your wife, through wellness and sickness, for the rest of your natural life?”

“I DO,” was his simple response. He took a wonderful deep breath after saying it.

“Do you, Julia Masters, take this man John Forney, as your husband, through wellness and sickness, for the rest of your natural life?”

“I DO,” was her simple response. She shed a few tears. John reached and dabbed at her eyes with a convenient handkerchief hidden somewhere.

That’s why dad had always said to keep a handkerchief handy?

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Dr. and Mrs. John Forney. You may kiss the bride.”

Long before the priest got to that, John was giving her the kiss of love that all brides and grooms partake.

The traditional Lohengrin Bridal Chorus (Here Comes the Bride) began, as they, arm in arm, started back down the aisle, with all of us following behind.

As the people left the chairs, hired personnel were taking down most of them, and quite quickly and noiselessly putting up dinner tables. At the same time, a DJ rolled his equipment out where the priest had been and started some background music. It was like a choreographed dance between everyone. Along with everything else, the weather had stayed wonderful.

The gentlemen I was used to seeing in caps and golf shoes, all looked marvelous. David was first to get to me.

“Beautiful wedding, don’t you know? This marvelous lady next to me is my wife Anita, and the little ones, in order are Rory, Karl, Fred, Shey and Erin.” I shook each of the boy’s hands, and kissed the girls, sparking giggles all around.

Many of my golf peers were there, making the John Deere Classic, the traditional tournament before the Open, rather light on big names. The winner of it gets into the Open, having to make very last-minute plans.

Tiger, Phil, Rory, Matt, Zach, Steve ... Stricker and Stallings, with at least 30 additional fellows I could mention were there. Most wives were alongside. Tiger arrived with Lindsey!

The food was rolled out; the DJ announced it, asking ‘To let the wedding party get theirs first.’

It was a gastronomists delight. Dr. Lloyd Neffeir personally created the menu, allowing for both simple tastes and those with a more sophisticated palate. I was of the former, Cory likes to try new things.

The music was only allowed to be at a certain decibel, so talking while eating was allowed. I had Cory on one side of me, and Alena on the other side. Very knowledgeable for a six-year-old. She liked the fancier food, while I got a plate of meatballs, mashed potatoes and a small salad. Dr. Neffeir looked at it and just said, “I guess you need all of those carbs for that massive swing speed of yours, don’t you?”

“Yes Sir, and I don’t want anything that might disagree with me, only a week away from the Open.”

“Smart young man ... nice to have talked to you, Johnny.”

The special events that surround a wedding celebration were beginning. From my knowledge of the evening’s itinerary; the cake, the bouquet and the garter toss were up next.

Each went off wonderfully, with Tiger’s girlfriend Lindsey Voss, catching the bouquet. He gave me such a look. He avoided the garter toss, letting Rory McIlroy get it instead. His regular girlfriend was tennis pro Caroline Wozniacki. She took his arm while he was grinning from ear to ear.

The dancing portion of the evening was next. The DJ announced, in a marvelous British accent, “The Forney’s first dance is to the classic 60s Righteous Brothers hit, ‘Unchained Melody.’” (From DIRTY DANCING)

About 20 seconds in, he invited the rest of the wedding party to dance. Another 20 seconds and it became a crowd.

I graciously stopped, bringing Cory with me. Pulling at my coat was Alena. I took her by the hand, and we danced along the outside edge of the mass of people. I looked over and saw Cory ... she could hardly wait to have kids.

At midnight, the lights all blinked, and the DJ said, “It’s time for a last dance.”

I ran over and cut in between Julia and John, “May I have this dance?”

The music played, was the inimitable Louis Armstrong, singing ‘What a Wonderful World,’ as I had my mother in my arms.

There was a crew that broke down everything very quickly. All they were waiting for was the last people dancing to get off the floor they had assembled, from beneath the first to eat, who had left. They took down 12 tables and replaced it with dance floor in a matter of minutes.

We huddled with Julia and John, finding out they were staying to watch golf. I love my mom so much. Despite telling people to give to charity, in lieu of presents, it took both of our vehicles to load everything up.

As I perused the landscape to see what we had missed taking care of, I felt a pull on my jacket again.

“Johnny,” Alena said to me. “Would you win the British Open for me?”

“Now, why would you ask me such a silly question?” I remarked pulling her up into my arms. I saw her parents walking over to us.

“I am dying,” she said. Both Cory and I were in full cry, hearing this. Alena gave me a big kiss just before her mother took her from me.

“She has a very rare form of Duchene muscular dystrophy. Today was a good day for her,” her mother said. “It affects boys much more than it does girls. With some hope, love and money, she may live to be 15, possibly older.”

“Alena,” I said getting her attention, “I will do my very best to win the British Open. If I do, I plan to give money to MD, specifically for what you have. Is that all right?”

“Yes, thank you, Johnny ... I love you!”

Her father, John’s brother, came over and took his family to their car.

John and Julia came over. We explained what we had found out.

“Johnny,” my stepfather said, “One in 3,600 boys carries the recessive X-link to DMD. It happens so seldom in little girls; they don’t even have a statistic for it yet. It might be as little as ‘One in 100,000’ ... possibly less.”

I put my hand out to his and said, “Dad, I plan to make that awareness known on the PGA Tour, giving as soon and as much as I possibly can. The fact that Alena might not live to see her own marriage, mortifies me. I not only want her to get married, I want to be there as well.”

After taking ‘the goodies’ to John and Julia’s, we let them open things in solace. We went to our place, and I dove into Muscular Dystrophy, and DMD specifically looking all over the Internet, trying to learn all I could as quickly as I could.

Little girls like Alena should be worried about other things instead of dying and death. Cory had come out after a shower and found me on the bed with both laptops searching for information. I hadn’t even taken off my shoes.

After she changed into some sleepwear, she pulled on my legs, taking off my shoes and socks.

“OK ok, I will get undressed,” I said standing up. She was helping me, getting me down to T-shirt and boxers.

“Johnny. Everything you are looking up will still be there in the morning, its 2am. We need to get to sleep.”

I saved everything, closing them both. I moved them off the bed and crawled in alongside my wife.

“It’s not fair,” I said with tears rushing down my face. “It’s just not fair!”

She wrapped me in her arms, and we fell asleep together.

We now had three days until the start of The Open. We got up early and headed on out for our final practice round before it started.

Turning the corner, we saw Commissioner Finchem, who welcomed us.

“That was a wonderful wedding last night. Your mother looked fabulous,” he said. “Are they staying to watch you this week?”

“Yes Sir, on Thursday when the tournament starts.” I responded.

“Wonderful, this place has much history to it. Of course, if you were to win it ... you would have what has been called a Tiger slam, wouldn’t you?”

“Commissioner, mine would be a Cannon Slam,” Cory corrected.

“Yes it would, wouldn’t it,” he said. “Have a great practice round today.”

THE OPEN

Round One

The final threesome of the first round of The Open, were last year winner, Ernie Els, the 2011 winner Darren Clarke and the 2010 winner Louis Oosthuizen. I was in the group right ahead of them. My group included Padraig Harrington and Tiger Woods, also previous winners of this most prestigious golf event.

There was a PGA official who took a glance, and I guess counted clubs in Pro bags as covertly as possibly. He got to mine, and asked, “May I check something, sir?”

Of course, I said, “Certainly.”

He carefully counted my clubs noticing my having both right and left-handed clubs. He called over another PGA official, an older fellow. They began a discussion.

I decided to jump in with both feet, “What is the problem exactly? I have 14 clubs. Does it really matter if they are left or right-handed? My caddy can point out the PGA rules that allow this, if you’d like.”

Together, they both turned to Cory. She pulled out her smart phone and brought up the Rules of Golf. Then, after a few more taps of the phone, she turned it to them to look at.

They looked at each other, and the older one said, “Sorry, Mr. Masters ... everything appears to be in order.”

As we walked away, I heard Cory said, “These are not the droids you are after.”

It was our tee time, so I took out a club and made a few practice swings, both left and right.

“The 1:45pm tee time is up next Ladies and Gentlemen. At 42 years old, born just north of here in Dublin Ireland, winner of 40 tournaments, including five on the PGA tour, including two Open Championships is Padraig Harrington!”

The applause was deafening. He was practically a local boy. Hell, I even applauded for him.

HOLE 1 – PAR 3 – 206 YARDS

He went to his caddy, who gave him a medium iron and he practice swung a couple of times. He teed it up and swung easy ... faded it a little leaving himself 30 feet to the left of the pin.

“Next on the tee is only 37 years old. He was born in Cypress California, has won over 100 tournaments worldwide, including 14 majors on the PGA Tour. He has won The Open three times as well ... his name is Tiger Woods!”

The crowd made a really nice cheer and applauded for him. He tipped his cap and got a club from Joe his caddy. It was a loftier iron, a five or six. He teed up a ball, practiced a few swings and addressed the ball.

It went well but drifted to the left just in the long cut.

“The last of this penultimate trio is only 21 years old. He was born in Pahrump, Nevada, but has relocated with his wife and caddy to Loveland Colorado. He has won every tournament he has entered and played four rounds in, including the last three Major tournaments. PGA golf’s newest lefthander ... Johnny ‘The Cannon’ Masters!”

A great big roar came from behind me. I saw John and Julia applauding for us. “My left four iron please, Cory?”

She handed it to me as I began to shake a little. I took a grip on it and practiced a few complete swings. I felt OK, but the shake bothered me. I teed up a ball and addressed it. I hit it really crisp, and it hit near the cup but rolled 28 feet past the hole.

I walked off the tee box, with my wife by my side. We all got to my putt first. I got my putter and a quick kiss and dropped it in the hole.

Our walking crowd enjoyed it. Next was Tiger, who missed his putt short. Paddy dropped his birdie.

We all had pars on two, three and four.

Through five holes, Tiger was 3 under, Paddy at 2 under and I was 5 under having had birdies all five holes. Thankfully, the shakes were gone.

HOLE 6 – 494 YARDS – 4 PAR

The longest four par on the front nine, and I took my right handed 2 iron and hit it nearly 250 yards, giving me a good chance to get on in two.

The other two guys went past me, but not too far. Every time I had previously played this hole, I got a Par-Four; I was determined to get a birdie today.

I got to my ball and hit another two iron, letting it bounce and roll onto the green and in the hole!

The crowd around the green loudly praised my shot.

Cory and I watched Paddy and Tiger both get pars.

At the turn, I was at seven under, Tiger was four under, Paddy, due to a triple bogie, was at even par.

Coy and I, stopped to tinkle and a snack, before going on to the back nine. It was cool, and I put on my sweater that my wife insisted we pack in the bag. It had a smart-looking VW logo on both lapels.

With the growing confidence, the back nine was as smooth as could be, playing it entirely from the right side and going four under, for a 59, which I had never expected on such a different golf course than I was used to.

Walking to the green, after Tiger and Paddy got close, I got my ball and threw it to Cory. The guys got their birdies, and all was well with the world.

Mike Tirico of ESPN came up to me and asked a few questions.

“Johnny, great round today. What was all that at the first tee about your clubs?”

“Mike, it was just a misinterpretation of the rules. Cory straightened them out. All is good.”

“I’d say so, without a driver in your bag, you lead the field by six shots with Ernie right behind you. What do you think about that?”

“He, along with Nick Faldo, helped me understand this course by tutoring me on it a few months back. He’s won it twice, including last year. I can only hope I have the good fortune of being in the hunt on Sunday.”

“Back to Chris in the Booth!” Mike said. “Johnny, you are not as cocky as you have been lately. Everything all right?” he asked.

“I’m a little tired, see you tomorrow,” I said.

John and Julia caught up with us and we walked together to the parking lot.

“Johnny, is everything all right?” John asked.

“I had a small case of the shakes early on, but I seemed to get over them by the seventh hole,” I answered. “Cory, could you please drive?” and threw her the keys.

“How recently have you eaten anything?” my stepfather asked.

“Nothing in the last day, John,” Cory answered.

“Get him some American food, if you can. The British aren’t really known for burgers and fries,” he chuckled.

Cory stopped and looked up on the laptop, googling American Food.

“There’s a McDonalds not far from here,” she said. She looked at the map and said, “I got it,” started the car and said, “Get ready for two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions-on a sesame seed bun!”

I laughed at her remembering that after all these years. We found it and I had her order me two sandwiches, without the onions. We took it back to our place, had our late lunch, and I was feeling better already.

She slapped me!

“Don’t forget to eat! You have always laughed about me snacking a lot, but I never had ‘the shakes’ before. Buck it up, big fellow. You are only three rounds of golf away from doing what only Tiger has done before ... got it?”

“Yes Ma’am, you know how horny I am right now?”

“Take care of yourself, for once.”

How rude!

I took a nice hot bath and went to bed early. Cory joined me of course, and we held each other through the night.

We woke up to windy weather. I turned on ESPN Worldwide ... It was Mike Tirico doing a breakdown of everyone’s chances.

“We all know how eager Tiger is to win his next Major tournament, not having won any since his 2008 victory in the US Open. Directly in his path is Johnny Masters. Ernie did win it last year, but Johnny appears poised to get his own slam, a Cannon Slam!”

“Also in the running...”

I turned it off.

Round Two of The Open

I played with Ernie and Rory McIlroy on Friday. The breeze went from north to south, although it might change on a few of the holes. It was Ernie who explained how to play in the wind, so the tides may have turned.

I started, this time feeling better, thank you John. I played the hole pretty much the same way, getting a birdie, while Ernie got his par and Rory hit into one of those pot bunkers and scrambled for a bogey.

Ernie and Rory were having troubles with the breeze, not getting as close to the pin on their approaches. I played it smart and went par-par-par on the next three holes while they both went par-bogey-par.

I didn’t get an eagle on number five this time, but a birdie against a struggling field, was just as good. Through the front nine, I was three under for the round, fourteen under for the tournament.

Cory took her mid-round pee coming back with an order of ‘chips’ what they call French fries over here. I gave her a kiss, as we walked together to the tenth tee. I waved Mike off, who had hoped for a mid-round interview.

Number ten, with its intensely positioned bunkers; I played just like the day before. A par was fine after getting through the pinball type arrangement of the bunkers, and the green being surrounded with them on three sides.

Ernie got through for his par. Rory missed his lag putt very short and escaped with only a bogey.

Nobody was having a breakout round today, so I was very content with only getting a birdie on the 35^th hole of the tournament, with a round of 64, or six under for the day. Through two complete rounds, I was comfortably sitting at seventeen under par. The nearest to that was Matt Kuchar with a nine under par score of his own.

Mike garnered me for an interview.

“Playing better today, I see. You survived the winds and were steady. Was that your plan for the day?”

“Yes, it was exactly, Mike! My irons today were my savior. I know if I have tried either of my drivers, I would have been over the green and out of position all day long.”

“Looking past The Open for a minute, The PGA Championship is at Kiawah Island Golf Resort in South Carolina this year. Have you ever played at that course?”

“Mike,” I said, “I don’t believe so, but looking past the next two rounds of golf here, is like playing golf in the Everglades without regards to the alligators.”

“Thank you, Johnny. Back to Chris in the booth.”

Mom and John caught up to me and congratulated the two of us on playing it safe. I didn’t like doing it. It wasn’t my style, but I have the commissioners ‘Grand Slam Bonus check’ in the back of my mind.

Two evenly paced rounds of golf later, the cameras were flashing around Cory and me. I got one more birdie over the last 36 holes, for an 18 under total at my first British Open. It’s at Muirfield in 2013, but I doubt neither Nick or Ernie will help me anymore.

The total purse was $7,800,000. I went through the interview and was handed the Claret Jug, posing for hundreds of cameras, then we received the oversized check for the winners share of $800,000.

After that, I went looking for Ernie to thank him for his help.

“Mr. Masters, you were excellent this week ... you will get no more help from me,” he said breaking into a nice smile.

We couldn’t wait to get back to our home in Loveland. Two days later, we got our first night in our own beds in almost three weeks.

Cory kept me from looking at emails while we were gone. While I was perusing the 1,134 emails, I noticed some international companies were looking to offer me Corporate money.

Henkel AG & Company wanted to meet with us about making a commercial or two. I had to look them up, finding that they invented laundry detergent in 1907. Persil was the first commercially available ‘self-activated’ laundry detergent, a significant chemical breakthrough.

Cory made a note to contact them after the PGA Championship. No decisions until then. I think I remember the Persil logo during my annual watching of the Tour De France. Cory finds other things to do instead of watching it with me each year.

After getting back in sync, which took two full days for me, I spent a lot of time in the spa. I had Cory check me for nodes, and we seemed to be maintaining the status quo since I became a ‘part-time left-hander.’

I also started to look for information about Kiawah Island, South Carolina, home of where I could make PGA golf history.

Only an intercontinental plane trip, it’s a 7,356-Yard course, a Par 72. That means four Par-Fives ... and RAZR goes back in the bag!

Cory and I had a long discussion about which clubs I should carry back in the states. My driver is an absolute, RAZR. So is my ambidextrous blade putter. That leaves twelve more. After talking about the clubs I hit most often during a round of golf, we decide on the two through seven RH, seven and eight LH, and the Pitching, Lob and Sand wedges RH! Adding back in my trusty four wood ... makes 14 in total.

I wondered what would come from getting a left-handed RAZR?

We started to strategize each of the holes using pictures, flyovers and scorecard information. This is when Cory is in her element. She makes written notes on each hole, extrapolates the logical clubs to be used and makes up a final rolodex for the course we’re staking out.

Since I won the British Open ... I have become a celebrity ... well, more of a celebrity. Before that I was just a golf story, now I am a national story.

What used to be stories about me on the Golf Channel and ESPN, now the major networks are constantly asking us for interviews.

I didn’t want to do anything like that; I just wanted to play golf.

Having gotten her number previously, I called Kelly.

“Hey Cannon!”

“Hey Kelly?”

“You have become a hot personality,” she said probably smiling.

“Thanks a lot to you.”

“Is there something I can do for you?” she asked with an edge to her voice.

“Could we sit down with a couple of cameras, just you, me, and Cory, and tape a nice long interview, talk about everything?”

“Everything?” she said.

“No! Not that, but everything else.”

“Sure we can do that, how soon?”

“Before the PGA Championship,” I asked.

There was a pregnant pause.

Her voice came back and said, “Don’t worry Johnny, I will take care of you.”

“I want you to ask me whatever you want to ask me, just not talk about ‘that’ thing!”

“Sure, I will be in contact.”

“Thanks beautiful!”

“You smooth talker you,” she said.

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE PGA CHAMPIONSHIP STARTS

“Hello, my name is Kelly Tilghman from the Golf Channel. We are talking tonight with the newest sensation in golf, Johnny Masters and his wife, Cory!”

“He’s won every tournament he played all four rounds in. He is on the cusp of golf’s greatest achievement--The Grand Slam.”

“But, we’re not going to talk only about golf ... we’re going to talk about him.”

“Johnny what would you like to tell people that are watching this ... who don’t really know you?

“Well Kelly, I love my family, my mother and father, my new stepfather. I lost my sister a while back and still miss her very much.”

“The light of my life is my wife and caddy in that order. Her name is Corrine Masters! I want to say in front of all the people who are watching this that I love her very much.”

Cory took my hand in hers.

“Tell us how you became a golfer?”

“I remember ... every Saturday and Sunday I would sit down on the carpet directly in front of my father. He would explain the rules of the game and tell me who everybody was. I began a big fan of Tiger Woods, Phil Mickelson, and Adam Scott.”

“Go on.”

“After school, I would come home and watch the Golf Channel coverage of the first two rounds remembering the names of each of the big stars of golf. I wouldn’t listen to any news, so I could be surprised who is leading.”

“How old are you at this time Johnny?”

“Maybe four or five.”

“Go on.”

“I would pester my dad to let me learn how to play golf. He would say, ‘You are left-handed Johnny they don’t make left-handed clubs for kids your size.’ That would shut me up, at least for a while.”

“So, how long before you actually had a club in your hand?”

“It took a year of complaining and hoping and on my birthday, I got a set of clubs. I opened it and saw they were right-handed. I looked up at my dad, and he said, ‘I will help you learn. But, being left-handed and playing right-handed will give you an advantage, is that all right?’ I said, ‘Sure dad, when do we start practicing?’ He said ‘On Mondays and Tuesdays, after I get home. We will practice in the back yard until it’s time for dinner, how’s that sound?’ I was ecstatic over that news!”

“So, you had a grassy back yard?”

“Only part of it was grassy, but two days later he took out a club and I took out a club and he held his left-handed and I held mine right-handed.”

“Like Phil and his dad?”

“Exactly, I was allowed to ground the club for a while. He didn’t want me to turn that patch of grass into a bunch of divots. We spent a lot of time on the mechanics of the grip, the address, the backswing, and the follow through.”