All that star power. All those impeccable credentials. All that collective, demonstrated competitive will. And the winner is . . . Ben Curtis?
You are forgiven if you have never heard of the newest "champion golfer of the year" as identified by the august Royal and Ancient Golf Club at the 2003 British Open.
Unless you pay careful attention to the Hooters Tour, or were riveted to the Ohio Amateur in 1999 and 2000, or are a member at Millcreek Golf Course near Ostrander, Ohio, or are perhaps a member of the immediate Curtis family, Ben Curtis has probably escaped your notice.
He may be the least-decorated winner of a major championship. Not that he doesn't deserve all the glory, prestige and money. He survived, grinding right to the finish, at one of the most demanding courses in the world while all the high-priced help choked like 18-handicappers.
In one unbelievable weekend, Curtis blew all the theories of major championship golf right out of the water, including all the myths about the mysteries of links golf.
Until he arrived here, Curtis had played exactly two rounds on what he described as a "kind of links course" two years ago as an amateur in Germany.
He met his English caddy, Andy Sutton, when he arrived here and got a whirlwind lesson on the quirky course.
"For the first couple of days we were just practising around the greens and he'd say 'Try this' and 'Try that,' " Curtis said. "Back home if you miss the green, you're just flopping it on. He handed me the eight iron and after I hit a few chips I said 'I'm chipping with this all week.' "
Curtis grew up 50 yards from the 18th green of a public course his grandfather built in Ostrander, near Columbus, and he's been playing since he was three years old. He was an Ohio champion at the amateur level, played the Hooters Tour last year, then earned his PGA Tour card by finishing 26th at the qualifying tournament.
Before this week, he had earned $195,000 as a rookie.
Yesterday's victory changed all that mundane history.
For instance, he won $1,112,720 US. He gets his name engraved next to some of the greatest the game has ever known. He gets a five-year PGA Tour exemption, a 10-year exemption to the Open Championship and a five-year exemption into the Masters, the U.S. Open and the PGA Championship.
"I'm in good company, I know that much," Curtis said. "I know the names that are on the trophy and I feel like I don't belong right now. Maybe in my own mind I believe but right now many people are probably saying 'He doesn't belong there.' "
Maybe so, but he was in good company yesterday and he was the last man standing.
"I'm just a normal guy with a lot of talent," he said. "My life is going to change from today but I'm looking forward to it and to all the great challenges ahead of me."
Even in major championships, where imposters are usually unmasked, there have been some wonky champions over the years. But seldom has anybody come from as far out in left field as Curtis.
He had his moments of weakness -- how many British Open champs bogey four of the last six and still win? -- but he did what none of the marquee names could do: he made the one shot that mattered, a 12-footer on the final hole to win.
"Even though I didn't putt very well on the back nine, I stepped up on 18 and said 'Make it.' I said, 'If you want to win this thing, make it.' "
Sounds like a guy we might hear about again sometime.
