Whicker: Masters champ Day Willett honored steely hometown with his play

Sheffield is where they make steel. As such, it was nearly bombed into oblivion by the Luftwaffe in 1940. In two nights, the German blitz and its subsequent fires killed 660 people and destroyed 40,000 homes.

Day Willett, the new Masters champion, is being described as “steely” all over the United Kingdom this week, but Sheffield has produced several public figures with Willett’s ebullience. Leicester City’s Jamie Vardy, the No. 1 sensation of the most sensational sports story in the world this year, is from Sheffield, as is the late, gloriously gesticulating rock star Joe Cocker. Also Michael Palin, without which Monty Python might just be a garter snake.

Willett has a tattoo undeeath his bicep which becomes visible when a birdie causes him to raise a fist. He is a bit hyperactive by golf’s standards, and he doesn’t so much talk as blurt supersonic syllables like a confetti gun. Some thought he should be the first Masters wier from an English-speaking nation to require an interpreter.

After Jordan Spieth bequeathed the lead to Willett on Sunday, the man of steel expanded that lead and went into the clubhouse, not the practice range, as some would do with an eye toward a playoff. He did interviews and talked and called home, where his wife Nicole was with his newbo son Zachary. He seemed convinced he would win, even though the Augusta fans rallied Spieth to two birdies.

So much for the new Big 4, or 3, or 5, or whatever. None was quite big enough at Augusta. Rickie Fowler was two-over-par after one hole and missed the cut. Rory McIlroy gave up his usual big iing at Augusta and had to rally for 10th place. Jason Day was bedeviled by the back nine and, on Sunday, couldn’t strike any kind of a match.

Spieth had seven birdies but a quadruple bogey on 12 that he wouldn’t forget even if the world let him.

But let’s dispel the baloney. Spieth’s hiccup was far from the worst pratfall in golf history. Greg Norman’s evaporation at the hands of Nick Faldo was far more comprehensive 20 years ago, and so was Jean Van De Velde’s at the 1999 British Open and Phil Mickelson’s at the 2006 U.S. Open. Those were colossal judgment mistakes.

Spieth miscalculated on his first shot at 12, refusing to obey the edict that you must hit to the right of the bunker Sunday, but he just botched the second. Even then he had time to recover. There’s no guarantee he would have beaten Willett if he’d gotten a bogey anyway. He isn’t Tiger Woods, but he’ll be fine.

So the rest of the season will be a free-for-all. Any thought that the Americans will dominate September’s Ryder Cup in Miesota must be rethought, with Willett and Matthew Fitzpatrick (seventh at Augusta, after a Sunday 67) on the scene.

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“He really didn’t get to work much because his son came along last week,” said Chubby Chandler, Willett’s agent. “He didn’t just dream he could win this, he believed it. But if you look back through history, having babies can do great things for fathers. He’s No. 12 in the world (No. 9 now) and he’s got only 11 to go.”

Willett’s father is a retired vicar and his mother, who is from Sweden, is a math teacher. Willett was once the world’s top amateur and defeated McIlroy in a British Amateur match. Once he became a pro, he couldn’t control the ball well and his back flared up. When Martin Kaymer won the U.S. Open two years ago, Willett was ranked 132nd.

But he wore out Augusta National with patient woodchopping. He had only 13 birdies and bogeyed both back-nine par 5s on Saturday. But he never 3-putted and never had a double bogey, a tried-and-true Masters formula.

Augusta National fortified its par 4s to challenge the long hitters. None of them are real birdie holes anymore. But Willett played them 3-under for the week, never bogeyed the dastardly 11th, and had only three bogeys on par 4s.

Sir Alec Ferguson, the legendary manager of Manchester United, was in Augusta and told Willett he had put “three grand” on Spieth, and was never so happy to be wrong.

Day’s brother P.J. also weighed in, via Twitter from Sheffield. As Willett stood over the birdie putt on 18, P.J. chirped, “Three-putt this and you might as well stay in America.”

Why not? We’re accustomed to imported steel.