What followed the win was a mix of confusing events. Reggie got pats on his shoulder and his hand shaken by dozens of people. With Carlos at his side, he continued to smile and talk to everybody, without exactly knowing what he was saying. He answered many questions from journalists who he’d seen on the tour but hadn’t met earlier.
“I have your mom on the phone,” Carlos said at one point. “And Moses called earlier.” They were back on the eighteenth green, where a little stage was being prepared for the award ceremony.
“Tell everyone I’ll call back,” Reggie answered, turning to greet his public. “I have a trophy to raise to the sky.”
He spoke with no joy. To win a tournament had been, until last Thursday, his biggest desire. And it still probably was, but capricious forces had conspired
