I had no sooner ordered my usual breakfast prior to my 8 a.m. tee time on Sunday at the Royal and Ancient Links of Simoro than the chatter began.
"Mike's going to do it this time." "All those swing changes are working. He's only a shot back. He's going to win today."
Blah, blah, blah. Not gonna happen, I said. Back to the toasted Western. More coffee, please.
Napkin, please. Burp. Excuse me. OK, now I can proceed.
God bless Mike Weir. I've known him since he was a teenager. He never was bigger or stronger than just about anyone in pro golf but, as his lame commercial on a competing all-sports TV network says, he just had to out-work everyone else.
But sometimes, sad to say, hard work just doesn't cut it. Salesmen know you can work your can off but you have to close the deal.
Playoff beard or not, and that is an amusing commercial with him and Gretzky shilling for the FedEx Cup fiasco, he has lost what used to be the most feared final-round charge on Tour.
Does it all go back to the 2003 PGA Championship at Oak Hill? Weir didn't acknowledge it but he was pulling up lame at the end of a three-victory season in which he became the first Canadian to win a major when he beat Len Mattiace in a playoff at Augusta. Going into the final round at the PGA, he was three back of Chad Campbell and eventual winner Shaun Micheel.
"Maybe I'm a bit like Seabiscuit," Weir said, referring to the famous, undersized racehorse of the 1930s.
"Have you seen that movie, where he gets out in front and backs up a little bit so he can stare them in the eye? For whatever reason, I seem to do better coming from behind. And that's the position I'm in again. So we'll see if I can do it again."
He had good cause for his optimism. After all, seven of his eight Tour wins have come from when he was out of the lead. Most recently, he bushwhacked Mark Hensby last October at the Fry's Electronics Open.
More tellingly, though, he is one-for-seven when holding at least a share of the lead after 54 holes.
He stumbled out of the gate at that '03 PGA, shooting 75 to tie for seventh. It was a sign of things to come, unfortunately.
In 2003, Weir was 12th in final-round scoring average. This year, he's 135th. It's a trend.
He's changed swing coaches, but what swing change lasts only 54 holes? And, at 38, how many reasonable chances are there for him to figure out that the problem is above the neck?
More coffee, please. Is the beverage cart out yet?