“Phil’s Sneaky Augusta Crawl: ‘I Stole a Sign, Got it on Video'”

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Phil Mickelson could easily transition from golf legend to broadcast analyst thanks to his captivating storytelling skills and inherent likeability. Despite the ongoing PGA-LIV rivalry, with its confusing intricacies exemplified by the inclusion of players from both tours at The Masters, it’s challenging to dislike “Lefty.”

Mickelson, always entertaining on and off the course, shared a humorous anecdote from two decades ago when he won his first major:

“Welcome to story time with Phil. I’m going to take you back 20 years to the Masters in 2004, my inaugural major victory.”

He introduced a towel drill taught by his new instructor at the time, involving setting up targets at specific yardages up to 175 yards. The strategy proved successful, as Mickelson won a tournament prior to the Masters, fueling his determination to maintain that momentum at Augusta:

“During Masters week, I wanted to stick with this drill. There were two ranges available—the East and West Ranges, distinct from today’s setup. As you gazed down Magnolia Lane, the left side accommodated the driving range, while the right presented a spacious field accompanied by a chipping green.”

Phil’s decision to practice his long shots in the open field range was unconventional but ultimately paid off as he went on to secure the 2004 Masters victory. This established a routine for him.

However, when he returned the following year, a new sign thwarted his plans: “East Practice Range is for Short Game Only.” Undeterred, Mickelson devised a clever plan:

“I waited for the champions to depart after the dinner and drove down Magnolia Lane. Then I parked my car, sneaked under the magnolia trees, and removed that sign with great effort. I tossed it into my SUV and made a quick exit.”

The next morning, he returned to find the coast was clear; his secret practice area was restored, and he commenced his towel drill uninterrupted.

But Phil’s stealth operation didn’t go unnoticed for long. When he attempted the same trick in 2006, he discovered that the sign had been swiftly replaced. It dawned on him that someone must have been monitoring the area:

“Everywhere you turn, there are cameras. I’m sure they captured the hilarious sight of me crawling under those magnolia trees. Some guy was probably wondering, ‘What’s this joker up to?’”

As Mickelson concludes his tale with a playful challenge to the audience’s disbelief, he reveals the sign tucked just out of frame—a memento of his mischievous yet productive preparation for The Masters. And, in true Phil fashion, he cheekily misdirects about his betting habits, despite reports claiming he’s wagered over $1 billion in the last 30 years.

Mickelson’s anecdote showcases not only his entertaining storytelling abilities but also provides a glimpse into his unique approach to mastering his craft—a combination that has undoubtedly contributed to his enduring popularity and potential success in broadcasting.