Chapter 26

RAISING CANE – CHANGING SCHEDULE
Using the cane, but alternating hands gave me some security in my making it around all 18 holes, just walking, with the girls alternating walking beside me, and Mom in a cart following us.

I walked into the Pro Shop and made my request to the young man I didn’t know behind the counter. He asked to wait just a moment as he got on the phone.

He got off and said, “Go ahead Mr. Masters. Any time you want to start.”

We three started on the first tee. Cory walked with me on the first hole.

This was surreal, walking a course with no intention of playing golf. It was a nice pace I was walking. We picked up some fans on the third tee again on the fifth. All around the course we went having nearly 500 people walking along with us as we reached the clubhouse when we were done three hours later. I could’ve walked another 18, LOL

These people are my true fans, and I stood on the back of the cart and spoke, “I have been hopeful that I may come back to golf by the Masters. You folks are the inspiration I needed. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow to do this all again.”

As I stepped down, they started the chant “Cannon, Cannon, Cannon,” as we stepped away walking back to the car. I was crying.

The news was filled with stories speculating if I would come back with the same monster swing. I was unsure as the rest of them but didn’t let them know about it.

Cory let me start swinging a club in the back yard. It felt odd. I swung both righty and lefty. Kelly left to cover some PGA events. The way she showed up for me tells me a lot about her character.

When sitting down, I usually turned on the Golf Channel, ESPN Sportscenter or the new Fox Sports One. To hear people speculating about your health is tough to watch. The days I go to the Butte and walk have people phone videoing and one or two of them end up somewhere on TV. I guess I understand the people’s right to know.

I was getting my strength back, I could tell. Along with my leg, I was working out at home hopeful that I could be ready to play golf again, much less be ready by the Masters held in the first full week in April.

With Cory’s help, I was getting the torque back in my waist for the crucial elements of the golf swing. It’s more than the arms and wrists. It starts with feet being in the correct position to the sway in your upper legs, the turn of your midsection like you were inside a barrel. I got that from a very old Jack Nicklaus article in Golf Digest. The upper-body staying in place during the back swing and everything except feet are involved in the follow-through.

By the end of February, I was ready to play nine holes of golf. Kelly made herself available to me that day. Even good old DF came out for moral support. Mom and John even broke out of their schedules to join us. Knowing how I might need some competitive juices flowing, Cory finagled Adam Scott to be there as well.

I did take a comfortable thirty minutes on the practice range. Cory insisted I keep all my swings within the plane. No over swinging of any kind would be tolerated during this.

Word got out quickly and a single Golf Channel handheld was going to follow me today. I walked from the range to the first tee to the sound of applause. Something I hadn’t heard in a while. Suddenly, the 516-Yard long first hole looked a mile long to me. Hmmm, 1,760 yards would be a Par 7, at the very least!

Kelly spoke, “Ladies and Gentlemen. This is the first round of golf Johnny Masters has played in close to five months. Today what he needs is support! Adam, you have the honors.”

He got up and hit a nice drive and stepped to the side.

I walked over and teed up my ball and got my four wood from my wife. I practice swung a few times, then walked and addressed the ball.

OK John, don’t fall down, don’t fall over, don’t top the ball, don’t air ball the shot ... just swing easy.

I started my back swing, reaching the zenith of it. Purely, from muscle memory, it came down the same speed and hit the ball in a long and low trajectory, passing Adam’s shot on the fly.

“That’s my son!” came from the crowd as the rest of them cheered. John came up to me and gave me a hug. “Thanks Dad, I needed that!”

I seem to have a more balanced swing set. I am certain my upper body was doing most of the work before. My hips and legs are now sharing the load,

Although illegal on the pro tour, Cory brought along one of our range finders and determined my drive went 290, leaving me 227 to the middle of the green. She writes those distances down into a sort of ‘yardage book.’ I asked for my two-iron and waited for Adam to play his second shot. It felt good to be outside and smelling the aroma of cut grass.

Adam laid up leaving a very short chip.

Cory handed me my four-wood instead, as always reading my mind. I took a really easy swing to it and landed it on the green, but quite far from the hole.

Our intimate group of about two-dozen cheered as we all walked to the green. Kelly broke through the crowd and walked beside me keeping quiet, for some reason.

“What’s on your mind, Kelly?”

“If today goes as well as possible, would you maybe play the JMI, which is two weeks after the Masters?”

“No, no matter how today goes, my next tournament is the Masters. If I find a way to win that, I may retire early. No one has ever won six straight Majors. At that point, I will host the JMI and my tournament on the LPGA tour, and possibly become a coach or trainer somewhere.”

“Is that pillow-talk or on the record?”

“That is on the record. You can quote me on that, Ms. Tilghman.”

With Cory’s help, I made my eagle, as did Adam with a lovely chip in from twenty yards out.

I played as well as I could expect, shooting a two under 34. Despite the prodding by Adam and the group, I stopped and thanked them all for being there for me.

I saw clips on the Golf Channel and ESPN that night with some positive remarks from the reporters. Finally!

I did that every week, going back and forth between the front and back nine. My skill of putting, and where I wanted it to land was coming slower than I wanted it to. Cory was telling me to be patient.

Tournaments were going by, the very ones I wanted to play. The Honda Classic, and the Arnold Palmer Invitational.

The first full week of April was coming, so we took our private jet to Atlanta, getting a Hertz rental to stay nearby Augusta National, specifically the Augusta Marriott at the Convention Center.

We knew the course, so I only wanted to practice one round, on the Sunday before things started. Bubba was there, so we played together in the early morning. Just our caddies and us. It felt great finally to play a round of quasi-competitive golf. My finesse game had gotten better. I had been something of a brute beforehand.

We both got our pars on number one. I birdied number two, while Bubba got his eagle. I nearly aced number three, and he got a par due to a misread putt.

With my golf juices now fully going, I got another birdie on four, as Bubba got his par. I was four under after four holes. Cory had to bring me down a little.

In the remaining five holes on the front nine, I added two more under for a six under round so far. Bubba was two shots behind me. We took a fifteen-minute break. I was a little tired, sitting down for a moment.

Cory came back from her mid-round micturition and sat on my lap. She giggled and gave me a nice kiss. I saw Bubba, and his caddy give each other a look.

Having turned 22 during my rehab, I was feeling older, but not old. Not sure if that makes any sense or not.

Having the honors, I was driving the ball rather well with about 80% accuracy in putting it where I wanted. Cory and I made par on the first three holes on the back, then went birdie-birdie-birdie, followed by three straight pars again for a back nine of 33 for a competitive total of 67. Bubba had a nice round, ending at 64.

Cory put our clubs up, and we sat and watched others walking by. This was something I started doing back when dad and I were left alone. He taught me not only golf, but also how to stop and smell the flowers along the way. I saw and shook hands with Tiger, Ernie, Rory McIlroy and Sabbatini. I had been upset at him for too long, and I apologized to him when we shook hands.

Phil walked by and was happy I was back. Matt Kuchar, who was doing very well these days, stopped to talk for a bit.

Zach Johnson, Steve Stricker and several other young guys I knew said ‘Good Luck’ to me. A sexy chick sat down next to me and said, “Hey Lover,” to which Cory answered, “Hey back.” They both laughed as they sat on either side of me.

“Did you really go out and shoot a 67 this morning?” Kelly asked.

“Yeah, I did,” I said.

“Are you a man or a god?” she asked.

“I am a god. I am not ‘The’ God ... I don’t think.” (My favorite quote from GROUNDHOG DAY!)

That got her low husky laugh to happen. “What is your plan after this tournament?” she asked.

“I may just retire and become a spokesperson for my sponsors. There is the JMI in two weeks and the new LPGA tournament I plan to be at.”

“What about your sponsors?”

“If they want their money back, so be it. I am happy if I never played another round of golf in my life.”

“Are you going to stick around today?” she asked.

“No, we are headed to the hot spa at the Marriott. My muscles could use the workout. Where abouts are you staying?”

“The Marriott. maybe later?”

“If it’s all right with my girl, I am all for it,” I said.

Cory was shaking her head in approval. “Eleventh floor, room 11017!”

“Marvelous,” Kelly said.

“It will be. I promise!”

She slapped at me and got up.

Back at the hotel, we got into our suits and took the elevator back down to the main floor. As we walked to the Spa/Pool area a young man came up and said, “I am rooting for you to win the Masters, Johnny.” He put up a high five, which I quickly matched up. I saw some more young people, so I put up my hand to them and got high fives from each of them

A young lady came by and looked at my leg scars. Then, she began crying. Her father came up and said, “She was so sad when she found out you were having surgery. She even emailed you. I told her that you must get thousands of them...”

“So, you are Emily?” I asked her.

“Y-Yes,” she said with the beginnings of a smile.

“And you are going in to have surgery and are scared about it?”

“Y-Yes,” she bubbled.

I got down on my haunches, something I shouldn’t be doing, and said, “Emily. See my long scar?”

She quietly nodded her head.

“I see that scar every single day, and it tells me what could have happened. Instead of worrying about it, I had friends and family behind me telling me that everything was going to be all right.”

“Your parents and your friends will support you and let me know how it turns out. We could be ‘scar’ friends.”

That made her giggle. I put out my fist. She bumped it. “Scar Friends forever,” I said, and she repeated.

Her parents waved good-bye. I could hear her say, “I am a ‘Scar-Friend’ of Johnny Masters!”

We went on and found the Hot Spa, and got in.

Back in our room, after showering and putting on the bare minimum of clothing there was a knock on our door.

I opened the door, and it was Kelly.

She came in, and we all said “Hi” to one another.

“You had the best practice of the day Johnny. Everybody is happy you are back. Maybe not everybody, but all the Golf Channel people are. Have you already been to the spa?”

“Yeah, it really helped relax me,” I said.

“Put some clothes on. Let me take you two to dinner. After that, we can come back and renew some old acquaintances,” she said.

I grabbed my girl, and we were out in two minutes flat.

We took our rental and found, guess what, a Red Robin just north of us? I took my two ladies inside asking for a table for three. As we walked to it, a young man with a scar on his hand said, “I am a Scar friend, Johnny!”

Everyone with a hand up, I went to and high-fived them back. I saw a young lady with her arm in a sling.

“What happened?” I casually asked.

Her mother said, “She is a softball pitcher. After seven years of it she had to have ‘Tommy John’ surgery.”

“You are going to become a Scar Friend, won’t you?” I asked.

She brightened up and said, “Damn right I am. I have to wait six more months before I can play again. I can start throwing in one more month. Thank you for caring, Johnny!”

“Scar Friends forever?” I asked raising my hand.

“Scar Friends for a lifetime!” she said back to me, using her other hand for the high five.

“Fantastic, remember those who love you and support you are what you need,” I said walking away to where Cory and Kelly were sitting.

“I ordered you a Johnny Burger,” Cory said.

“That appears to be another girl who has fallen in love with Johnny Masters,” Kelly said.

We all chuckled at that.

The food was as good as it always has been. The manager came by and thanked us, even though we were on our way out. Our waitress probably told him who we were. I left a tip for her.

We waved to all as we left.

Back at our room, I was ordered to get naked and lay on the bed. Cory and I had started making love a few months ago. Everything went fine.

The ladies came out naked; I saw my dick noticeably throb as they climbed on the bed. They were touching me all over. Cory was licking my nipples while Kelly was gliding a fingertip along the underside of my erection.

“He’s ready,” Kelly said. “Who do you want to fuck first, Cannon?”

“You, I want to fuck you and fill you up completely with my Johnny Juice.”

She smiled as she straddled me at the waist. She raised herself up, and Cory took my stiffness and put it in position. Both Kelly and I enjoyed that and while looking in my eyes, she slowly and deliberately filled herself with my fullness.

“Aughhhhhhhh! You feel like a warm glove on me,” I said.

I thrust up and she made a marvelous noise of her own.

“Johnny, I have been so worried about you during all of this. I could barely do my job. Bless you for being back and ready to play competitive. Tiger, Bubba, Adam, and Rory are good golfers, but they don’t have what you have.”

“And what do I have that they don’t?”

She started to fuck me and said, “Personality, Charisma and a dollop of cynosure; something that attracts attention by its brilliance.”

She worked herself up, as I played with, then sucked on her marvelous breasts. She was agonizingly feeling every bit of me as she was experiencing my dick inside her pussy for the first time in almost five months.

I got Cory up on my face. I pulled her to me as I started on her pussy. It was leaking on me, but I didn’t care. I tasted her and loved it for a long while. I put a finger in her alongside my tongue. She liked that.

Just then, Kelly got into a faster rhythm still filling herself full with every stroke. I saw her hands on my wife’s breasts. Cory leaned back to give her better access. This was the most languorous fuck of my years on this planet. I was playing with the clitoris of my wife while she was being molested by a woman I would marry if I could.

What the Fuck ... did I just say that to myself?

I was nearing orgasm. Kelly had at least two of her own so far. I tasted Cory’s.

“Kelly, I am really close.”

“That’s OK, Lover. I have had three so far.”

Cory added, “I stopped counting after five.”

I cut loose and Kelly was breathing so silently, “I feel it. Oh ... god Johnny, I feel your cum going inside me.”

I was ejaculating with such force I couldn’t count how many there were. I took my mouth and opened wide on my wife’s pussy causing her to make a fabulous noise.

Even though I had cum, Kelly wasn’t stopping. She must be close to another one. Cory got off my face, and Kelly lunged for it. She was getting a lot of Cory in the kissing. She kept on riding me.

“I love you Johnny. I love you more than anyone I have ever loved,” she said abruptly changing her rhythm to a jackhammer approach. She was in the throes of a good old ecstatic rapture it seemed, and I was witnessed to it. She was so satisfied looking. Never in my life have I seen what she was going through. I was holding her up by her breasts. She was unbelievably intense at that moment.

After more than five minutes, she slowed, looked down at me and said, “Johnny. I must never have another person in my life except for you.”

Cory and I looked at one another, and I said, “All right. What does that mean exactly?”

“What I said. That was the single best orgasm in my entire life. I never want anyone except you and Cory,” she said.

“All right. What changes need to happen?” Cory asked.

“I will still get my mail and such at the house you gave me, but whenever we are at the same place together, I need another one of those massive orgasms. At least now I can do my job without thinking about you all the time.”

The 77^th Edition of The 2013 Masters

I was paired up with Charl Schwartzel and Bubba Watson. I was focused. Cory kept me from myself, and my first round was a comfortable five under par.

The second round, I hit my stride and had a better six under par. The same two played with me again. Both said something to the tune of what ‘deadly focus’ I had in my eyes. All I needed to do was think about Cory, my biological father John and my new dad, Doctor John Forney.

I caused the cut to be at one under. That dropped off many good friends I had in golf, but we all know that can happen to anyone at any time.

With Zach Johnson and Tiger Woods the closest, we played together on Saturday. I shot another round of six under, putting me at seventeen under for the tournament. I gave all who asked an interview. I spoke to the media in the tent and answered questions for a solid 45 minutes.

When asked, “How much more under par could I go?” my answer was “24 under, I would guess.”

The fourth round, I did add another seven under, beating the field by a dozen strokes. David and a cameraman came up to me and asked, “What’s next?”

“The Johnny Masters International.”

“And, after that?” David persisted.

“That might be it for the year. I have the new Nestles International Challenge on the LPGA Tour in September. This may just be my final year of playing competitive golf.”

“What about your sponsors?” David asked.

“I am not planning on leaving golf altogether. I will make commercials when they want, maybe become a teacher of golf. I may go back to College and get the degree I never finished.”

“Really?” David said perplexed.

“David. You have seen golfers come and play golf over the years, going back to Snead and Hogan?”

“Yeah.”

“Art Wall, Jack Nicklaus, Arnie, Lee Trevino, Billy Casper, Raymond Floyd, Seve, Fred Couples, Tiger, Vijay, Phil, Angel, Bubba and Adam Scott. They have lived their entire lives playing this sport. I believe there are other things for me to do. We want kids; some may play golf, or not.”

“You missed a name just now,” David said with a tear running down his cheek.

“Who?” I asked.

“Johnny Masters. Who may be the best whoever came down the pike? Would you come on my TV show from time to time?”

“Sure, but not until the JMI and the Nestles are done.”

He turned and said directly to the camera, “Ladies and gentlemen, you heard it straight from the Cannon’s mouth. He destroyed the 2013 Masters this week. No one had ever won six straight majors, no one had shot below 59 before, and he has multiple times. Most of all, he has been a good and solid friend to me, a friend to golf and the best damn golfer I have seen in my entire life. No one has caused so many people to stare at their TVs and hope he wins.”

“Just a minute, there was a golfer who might have been the equal of Johnny Masters. His name was Robert T Jones Jr. He and the former professionals of the game are smiling down on this lad today. This is David Feherty for CBS Sports.”

He handed his mike to his cameraman and gave me a nice strong hug. Then, he gave Cory one.

We stayed long enough to get the check and the adulation everyone wanted to heap on me. After it was all done, we went to the hotel, then back to Colorado, along with our favorite lover and announcer!

Not a single sponsor wanted to drop us. They all spouted off the statistics of their sustained growth due to us.

The Johnny Masters International with its unique scoring, was loved by those who played it and those who watched it. Steve Stricker won it handily, with Tiger and Jason Dufner tied for second. We were there to watch it all. We sat and talked to Kelly when we weren’t watching players coming in on the 18^th hole.

Commissioner Finchem declared it was a hit, and we signed a deal for ten more years of hosting it, although I asked for the opportunity to rotate it among different courses, as the opportunity strikes.

Later in the year, the inaugural Nestles International Challenge was held. A few of the ladies had never played a hole of Stableford scoring, but they got used to it. Cristie Kerr won it, with Amy Anderson in a close second.

In early November of 2013, we announced that Cory was pregnant. We were loved and given thanks and appreciation. Quietly, it was also announced that Kelly Tilghman got out of her contract two years early. She was pregnant too. Isn’t that a coincidence?

I became the club pro at Marianna Butte.

July 31st, 2014, a healthy baby boy, we named Steven John Masters, was born. What a mass of hair he had. He was completely healthy. Three weeks later, on August 20, we helped Kelly get to the hospital. After four hours of easy labor, she had a little girl ... as beautiful as her mother. She named her Maria Julia Tilghman. She always loved my mother.