Perry's collapse comes at worst possible time of his career

AUGUSTA, Ga. -- Kenny Perry, stoic and upbeat despite having just endured the worst 45-minute period of his professional life, grabbed the podium with both hands, looked into a sea of klieg lights and spoke into a microphone.

'I have a short memory,' Kenny Perry says after blowing a two-shot lead with two holes to go. (Getty Images)

Typically honest to a fault, he not only looked a bit like a politician, he sounded like one.

•  Cabrera tops Perry | Leaderboard | Yo! | B/R: Hole-by-hole

The 48-year-old had just blown a two-stroke lead with two holes of regulation remaining, then lost the Masters in a sudden-death playoff. Despite suspicions from everybody that this defeat will leave a permanent emotional scar, Perry insisted otherwise.

"I have a short memory," he said.

Standing 10 feet away, his wife Sandy actually laughed as the words left his lips. Like many who were listening, she realized that it's going to take a long time, if not forever, before her husband lets go of his last-minute Masters meltdown.

Seeking to become the oldest man ever to win a major championship, Perry aged a decade during the final moments Sunday as he made a mess of the last two holes of regulation after seemingly cementing a victory with what he called the "shot of my life" on the 16th.

The ones that followed on the 17th and 18th will not be remembered quite so fondly, but probably just as vividly.

"Great players make it happen," Perry said, "and average players don't."

With one arm all but slipped in the sleeve of a green jacket, Perry held a two-shot lead when he hit his approach shot over the back of the green on the 17th hole. The first red flag came a moment later, when he skulled a chip shot that rolled all the way to the other side of the green. Two putts later, his lead had been halved to one.

Perry said he has a nervous condition in his wrist on chips shots at times, prompting some sloppy swings. His performance from then on made pretty much everybody nervous and twitchy.

Needing a par on the 18th to hold off Chad Campbell and eventual champion Angel Cabrera by a stroke, Perry's driver on the 18th boomed through the fairway into bunkers along the left side. A poor 7-iron from the sand never scared the green, landing left and short and leaving a brutal chip shot.

Perry pitched to approximately 15 feet and had a chance to win it outright with yet another hero stroke. Perry said he conjured visions of Phil Mickelson and Mark O'Meara, who he recalled holing putts from a similar line to win at Augusta National over the past 11 years. He never gave it a chance, the ball curling below the hole, barely reaching the cup.

"I knew exactly what it did," he said disgustedly of the putting line. "That was the most disappointing putt of the day. How many chances do you get to win the Masters?"

Ah, the real question, the one that will almost certainly occupy his thoughts for the rest of Perry's golfing eternity. Earlier this week, Perry, who had played magnificently Sunday before he chopped up the last two holes and stumbled in the playoff, admitted that he still thinks about his playoff defeat at the 1996 PGA Championship.

"Now I've got two of them to think about," he said.

Perry received what he termed a "mulligan" at that same PGA course, Valhalla, where Perry made the Ryder Cup team last fall and helped lead the U.S. team to a stirring victory before his home-state fans. He'll have more shots at Augusta National, too, but by this time next year, he'll be pushing age 50, a time when the nerves get shakier, not steadier.

Perry, who had won more titles than any other global player since last June with four, might just have booted his last best chance at major-championship glory.

"I had the tournament to win," he told the wall of television cameras afterward. "I lost the tournament."

The most shocking part was, nobody saw it coming. Perry had just laced an 8-iron to within a foot of the hole on the par-3 16th, arguably the best shot delivered under pressure at the Masters in years. It gave him a two-shot cushion, even though playing partner Cabrera also birdied the hole.

"I was in total control of everything through 16," he said. "I hit the greatest shot of my life on 16."

As he stood on the 17th tee, Perry, who had been sending lasers down the middle of fairway after fairway all week, had amassed a total of four bogeys -- all week.

Perry's 23-year-old son, Justin, sat in the back of the media center, straining to maintain his composure, as his dad put on the bravest possible face.

"I'll look back at my life and say what could have been," Perry said. "If this is the worst thing that happens to me ... I am not going to have a pity party."

Taking it hard and feeling sorry for yourself, of course, are two different things. Perry said he hoped to accomplish both feats, which would be as Herculean as anything he did with his golf clubs.

He had the chrome Masters trophy in both hands, then gave it away to Cabrera, who practically nobody noticed for the first five hours of play on Sunday. The Argentine has won two majors in as many years and found a way to get it done.

"All the big stars make it happen," Perry said, being remarkably self-effacing for a guy who has 13 career PGA Tour victories. "That's why they are where they are and we're down here."

He was down, all right. Then again, mega-stars Phil Mickelson and Tiger Woods, with six green jackets between them, didn't get it done Sunday on the same closing stretch at Augusta, either.

Perry, with his entire family on hand, put the best possible face on his experience and said he's looking forward to the U.S. Open in June.

"You know what, I know I can do it now, because it was fun," he said. "I was actually having fun in the moment out there."

As for the moments that follow, well, this one is going to leave a mental mark. With only a few more years left in his career and players from all corners of the world throwing haymakers at their elders, his opportunities at majors will likely be a precious few.

Time stands still for no man, major winner or runner-up. And the most painful part of the equation is this: What if Perry never again contends on such a grand stage?

Ask anybody over age 50. After a certain point, the memories are all you have. This one's going to sting forever.