I have this weird observer/athlete relationship with Tiger Woods ... and no, I'm not a stalker.
On the one hand, I want him to do well, especially in the majors. Because when he's in contention, the tournament is always more exciting. I want him to set the bar high and make the other golfers leap to his level.
On the other hand, we all know that Wood is a reprehensible human being, the kind of guy none of us want to introduce to our daughters, nieces and nannies. He's crude, lewd and really quite a pathetic dude -- a club-throwing, foul-mouthed, self-worshipping jerk.
So even as I root for him to stay near the top of the leaderboard, I can't possible hope he wins.
As it turns out, then, this was a practically perfect Masters for me.
Woods roared back from a deep deficit to take the lead ... only to choke on a 2-foot putt and fall just short. It was part of a wild final round that saw a half-dozen golfers contend right to the end.
I don't follow golf quite as closely now as I did when I covered it fairly regularly, and I admit I never had heard of Charl Schwartzel until this weekend. That the South African seemingly came out of nowhere to beat Woods and the rest of the field made the tournament all the more dramatic.
The only way I'd have enjoyed it more would have been if 71-year-old Jack Nicklaus had played and won one more time -- tacking another major title onto his record and making it even more unlikely that a wretched cur named Eldrick eventually will equal one of sport's great accomplishments.