The following is an article the Pastor has submitted to Maximum Golf Magazine…….

The Day We Were Better Than David Duval

I believe most people who enter sweepstakes are stupid. After all, the chances of winning are remote and entering is simply a waste of time and an invitation to receive more junk mail.

However, when my brother-in-law (who always enters these types of contests) happened to win the grand prize in the national Footjoy “Play against David Duval” sweepstakes, I had absolutely no problem accepting his offer to join him (along with my brother) in a three-man team contest against one of the world’s best players. The 18-hole match on the TPC Stadium course would be the culmination of a three-day trip to Ponte Vedra, Florida and would feature Footjoy’s lovable TV character “Sign Boy” as the scoreboard carrier.

For my brother-in-law (Brad Fouss), this confluence of events was an unimaginable dream come true. Just a few short years ago he had entered our family as a 40-handicapper, but after hitting more range balls than any married man with a toddler should ever be allowed to, he had earned our respect by whittling his way down to a handicap of about 18. In a world were justice is so rarely done, he truly deserved this trip. His choice of my brother and me to join him was based not only on our friendship, but probably more so on the fact that I am a “scratch” (more like a solid 2-3 right now) player who has played in two national amateur events and my brother (Bob Ziegler) is an erratic 8 handicapper who is capable of flashes of greatness.

While preparing for the big event we happened to run into PGA Tour star Brad Faxon a couple of weeks before we would play against Duval. Eager to find out what we could expect from Duval, whose reputation is that of someone who keeps to himself, I asked Faxon what he thought we were in for. He told me, “You should have a great time with ‘Sign Boy’.” Just to make sure I had not misunderstand his obvious omission, I asked if that meant David would not be into it. His wife quickly chimed in that as along as we did not engage David in conversation, everything would be just fine. Obviously, at this point, our expectations for the social aspects of the trip could not have been much lower.

When we got to Jacksonville for the event we also realized that we should not count on actually beating David Duval. As we got to know “Sign Boy” (a talented actor named Matt who is just as funny in person as he is in the commercials), he continually disabused us of any delusions of grandeur that we might have had. Quite simply, even though the three of us would be playing a scramble against Duval, no one gave us much of a chance and we began to buy into that premise (especially after our practice round at the Stadium course where I failed to break 80, Bob didn’t break 90 and Brad shot over 100).

The morning of the match I approached Jim Furyk on the driving range (many tour pros use that facility as there home course). I briefly explained to him about the contest and divulged our handicaps so that he might be able to give us some idea if we really had any hope of actually winning. He asked what tees we would be playing and, when I told him that we would all be hitting from the championship markers, he flatly predicted that we didn’t have a prayer.

When we finally met David we were all pleasantly surprised to find out that he was actually VERY nice and quite funny. When Brad nervously poked his opening drive far short of the fairway and tried to claim that the ball had gone about 175, Duval jokingly retorted, “about 175… minus the one.”

While Brad and Bob tried to adjust to the pressure of the situation (we had a small gallery following us for the first few holes) I managed to scratch us out two routine pars to start things off, while David easily birdied (while confidently noting that he was closer in two than we were in three) the par 5 second hole to take a one shot lead. On the third hole, David failed to get up and down from basically the same spot from which my brother and me almost holed our chips for birdie. We were tied and had the honor for the first time.

On the fourth hole the match changed forever. My brother, whose primary goal was to out drive Duval once, ripped his tee shot right down the middle about 280 yards. “Obviously” intimidated by Bob’s mighty blast, David then hit the type of shot that would have been surprisingly bad had it come from your average hacker and not from the 4th ranked player in the world who just six days earlier had teamed with Tiger Woods to win the World Cup. David’s drive was a high block that clipped an overhanging tree and splashed into a creek that was way right of the fairway. Suddenly the joking stopped. We were all stunned into silence.

We were no less shocked when David took what appeared to be a VERY disadvantageous drop (I didn’t have the heart to ask him what he was doing) and ripped a 3-wood from hardpan to a pin about 250 yards away. Unfortunately the ball only carried 242 and ended up in the water fronting the green. David ended up making seven and (after Brad made a nice approach and putt) we made a birdie three. We were suddenly up by 4 over David Duval!

On the next tee David showed his competitive side by slyly asking whether we were playing stroke play or match play. We had never considered that we might be playing match play because we knew it was an 18-hole match and because “Sign Boy” was keeping score with red and black numbers. It was determined that we were indeed playing stroke play, and, while David’s demeanor did not change, it was obvious that he actually did not want to lose to anybody, especially not three hacks like us.

At this point we all got as close as any human beings ever could to understanding what it must be like to be Tiger Woods: we were beating David Duval, we knew that it would be VERY difficult for us to lose, and he knew it too. I believe that we even got to see a little of the “Tiger effect” in action as David began to play in a manner (either because he didn’t really care or because he knew he was beat) that was inconsistent with his normal style. He tried to hit shots that were far too aggressive and, as we made par after par, our lead began to grow even larger.

On the par 5 11th both Bob and me actually out drove David when he popped up his tee shot while really going after one. However, the next time we took out the driver (on the long par 4 14th) we found out exactly why David is a tour pro and we are dreamers. After my partners goofed off on their tee shots (my brother even requesting David and “Sign Boy” to react in awe of his drive for the photographer) leaving me almost all alone against Duval, I gave it everything I had and ripped one down the middle. David then stepped up and stoked a drive with all the apparent effort of a Fred Couples practice swing. When we got down to our balls I was embarrassed to find that David’s drive (300 yards into the wind with almost no roll) had out distanced me by about 50 yards. When I asked David if that was really his ball all the way up there he said with a smile, “Yeah, I hit that pretty good, you hit yours like a girl!”

By the time we got to the famous island green 17th hole we were up by 7 shots and even Jean Van De Velde would have had a VERY difficult time finding a way to lose. Things got so bad that “Sign Boy” had actually (either accidentally or on purpose) fallen behind in how far over par (5) David really was. However, there was still time for plenty of dramatics. Brad, lacking much confidence after having hit 4 shots in the pond the day before, plopped a brand new sleeve of balls down next to his tee ball in morbid preparation for his inevitable shot in the water. Bob, who was so pumped up all day we though that he might implode, hit a gigantic pitching wedge to the very back of the island green and then holed the putt himself for a natural two. David was so caught off guard by my brother’s Tiger-like fist pump that he left his birdie putt short.

The 18th hole provided the perfect ending to our day in fantasyland. After I pounded a drive that barely kept up with David’s 3-wood, Brad holed a 40-foot curler that was so dead in the hole that I tackled him in celebration before the ball had actually dropped. We had beaten David Duval. No, actually, we had DESTROYED David Duval, 68-77.

After David graciously posed for more pictures and signed everything that everyone had requested, I took this rare opportunity to tell David about my “world-renown” website www.TigerWoodsisGod.com (where I am the Pastor of the First Church of Tiger Woods and which has been featured in these pages before). Like his good friend Tiger before him, David seemed rather (understandably) confused by the concept of an Internet church devoted to Tiger Woods. When I asked if he thought there was any chance that Tiger was indeed divine he flatly said, “No.” I was disappointed, but not surprised.

My best guess is that David Duval must hold onto the belief that Tiger is merely human if he is to have any chance to beat him. Clearly he is in a state of pragmatic denial. I totally understand and respect David’s desire to deny Tiger’s divinity, but after playing 18 holes with Duval I can tell you that, while he is much more friendly than advertised, HE is in fact most certainly (like everyone else on Tour futilely chasing Tiger) a mere mortal doomed to a career of pursuing second place.