BRITISH OPEN: Thoughts on Turnberry, 10 Hours Later

I've given myself the rest of the day before sitting down to write this, hoping that in time perhaps the pain would dull or, better still, the outcome would change. Neither have happened, of course, and so it is that I'm left with what can only be defined as the greatest disappointment I've ever experienced in a lifetime of watching sports.

And I'm not even someone who had ever called myself a true Tom Watson fan. As a kid, I remember always confusing him with Tom Kite, which I know to an older generation is sacrilege. What I distinctly remember is watching Watson two years ago at Whistling Straits during the 2007 U.S. Senior Open. He carried a three-shot lead into Sunday, shot a 43 on the back nine and lost by a bunch. That was the Tom Watson I expected to show up Friday... and then Saturday... and then Sunday.

But long before he tapped in for birdie on the 71st green to take a one-stroke lead to the last, I was a convert. Tom Watson wasn't just smoke and mirrors this week. He was the smartest man in the field, playing with the sweetest swing.

All he needed was a par at 18. And he hit his first two shots exactly the way he intended. First three shots, really.

The fact that three well-played shots could only get Tom Watson eight feet from the hole was cruel enough. Surely this game that we adore couldn't be so mean as to leave Tom Watson with a putt he had to make. Frankly, his mettle over the first 71 1/2 holes deserved a tap-in for the greatest major triumph of all time.

Tom's old buddy Andy North tried to calm our worst fears by saying, confidently, Tom will make this. And why not, he had done it 32 years ago, on the exact same hole, in one of golf's other greatest moments.

I paused the action and called my three year old to the TV, explaining to him through a trembling voice the significance of what was about to take place.

Instead, what we witnessed was a 59-year-old legend remembering one stroke too soon how old he truly was.

The Open's 4-hole playoff may be the game's most sensible system for crowning a champion, but following that putt it felt unkind, bordering on inappropriate. It was all I could do to fast forward until the inevitable became official: Tom Watson, runner-up at the 138th Open Championship.

With eight major titles, I'd love to believe that Tom Watson will carry on just as he had before he arrived at Turnberry. My gut tells me that he'll relive that 72nd hole for the rest of his life.

I'm a long way from 59, but at that age, it sure seems like you're supposed to be moving past life's regrets, not adding to them.