Early ending irrelevant footnote to singular career

Ochoa, the world No. 1, seemed surprised when asked why she was watching and waiting as Sorenstam finished.

OK, so it wasn't best question I've ever asked. "Just going to say goodbye to her," Ochoa shrugged, her eyes watery.

Donald Trump, the host this week, cruised by in his electric cart to watch her final hole. When he saw the black 5 next to Sorenstam's name on the portable standard, he shook his head. After an opening 74, she shot 39 on her front nine Friday and never really threatened getting inside the projected cutline. LPGA commissioner Carolyn Bivens watched Sorenstam at several points along the back nine.

"I was hoping it wouldn't end," Bivens said.

No question, it didn't end like anybody envisioned. But the parts between her career start and finish were pretty darned memorable -- try 10 majors and 72 LPGA victories among her 89 worldwide titles. Gunilla Sorenstam, Annika's mom, who freely admitted to more than a little bias, believes the latter figure speaks volumes.

"There are so many more players out here now who can win," she said as her daughter played the back nine. "Probably 50 or more every week."

Thirty years ago, fields were so thin, there frequently weren't cuts. No need. There weren't that many players. Kathy Whitworth and Mickey Wright were indisputably great players, but they were beating up on fields that looked like women's physical education classes.

Sorenstam's caddie since 1999, Terry McNamara, was choking back tears after the round ended and probably handled the day with more emotion than anybody. Though his boss has two more events remaining overseas, the finality of her decision to quit, first announced in June, was settling in.

"I'm just very thankful," he said, trying to keep his composure. "It's done."

Well, yes and no. To look at Sorenstam's schedule is to understand why she's found it increasingly hard to keep up with the rigors of tour competition and the practice it requires to remain at the top. Between now and the end of January, Sorenstam is scheduled to:

Play next week as captain of the international team in the Lexus Cup in Singapore, make a site visit to a course she is designing in Malaysia, play her final tournament in Dubai, give the Arizona commencement speech, make a side trip to India for a yoga retreat, host an inaugural AJGA event in her hometown Orlando that will bear her name, get married to fiancé and manager Mike McGee, then make an appearance at the annual PGA Merchandise Show. It could take a while before she goes into full-blown withdrawal.

"Come February, it will probably hit her pretty hard," McGee said.

The 38-year-old also wants to have children, an important portion of life that was temporarily delayed because of her career.

"Life must go on," Gunilla Sorenstam said. "We all understand that she wants to start a family."

Her parents, like everybody else, wrestled with how best to describe the moment when the curtain, and some tears, came tumbling down.

"It is a mixed feeling," her father said. "It's a sad moment, but it has been 15 wonderful years. Now it's over. But we understand. She probably made the right decision."

Tom Sorenstam, who lives much of the year in the same Orlando community with his eldest daughter, said that in spite of what everybody believes, he doesn't envision an Annika comeback down the line. She will fuel her competitive fires elsewhere, he predicted.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "She has so many other things going on. That's a competition, too, the businesses. Maybe, I hope, she will come back, but I don't think so."

Then, for the first time in several minutes, a smile creased papa Sorenstam's face. His daughter is unusually gifted in many regards, but in another fashion is just like most other kids.

"I could be wrong," he said, laughing. "She never tells me anything."