By Michael Hollingshead
It''s not that he doesn''t want to talk to you; he just has more important things to do.
His TaylorMade polo shirt is neatly tucked into his starched khakis as he flashes his million Canadian dollar smile sincerely to a handful of fans hoping for his autograph. His demeanor convinces supporters that he''s completely interested in their conversation, but he''d really rather be somewhere else, somewhere greener.
As he sunk the 6-foot putt on the 18th hole to force the first Masters playoff since 1990, something happened to Mike Weir. He became an instant icon; even before he went on to beat out Len Mattiace to become the first Canadian ever to wear the green jacket.
To observers, it may have seemed like nothing too special; simply something he had been working toward for the last couple of years. But for Weir and a hockey-infested place up north, it was a dream.
The latest golf inductee to the BYU Hall of Fame is quiet, well mannered and the most recent phenomenon to drive a perfect fairway shot with a 3-wood.
In truth, the non-LDS BYU grad is the hottest ticket on the PGA Tour this year; somewhere he couldn''t have planned to be when he exchanged his hockey club for a nine-iron 23 years ago.
'I grew up playing hockey,' Weir recalls. 'When I go back there , it is pretty crazy now.'
Weir admits conversations with his playing partner between shots often fall into sports discussions about football, baseball and, of course, hockey. The Sarnia, Ontario native, a city with a small-town feeling located one hour northeast of Detroit, said he first got involved with golf when he moved across the street from a golf course at the age of 10.
Apparently, as far as golf is concerned, things went up from there.
The 33-year old father of two now makes his home in comfy Draper, just 30 minutes from his old stomping grounds - if you can call them that - of Provo. No question the best-known golfer ever to don a BYU polo, Weir has slowly gained momentum this year, registering three PGA Tour victories, including the Masters.
But what drove Weir to come to a conservative Mormon university nearly 15 years ago?
Karl Tucker, Weir''s coach and close friend at BYU, knew there was something special about the Canadian lefty from the moment he laid eyes on him.
'Everybody said you passed up some other guys that were maybe better-known players, but there was something about Mike,' Tucker said. 'I watched him play in a junior national and he had a demeanor about him. I followed him around for three days.'
Weir came to and left BYU relatively unknown, turning pro during his senior year in 1992. He spent hours on the greens and hours more with a young lady named Bricia, who he later made his wife, but he also learned there was more to life in Provo.
'I learned how to ski and fly fish,' he remembers. 'Coach was a great skier; he taught us how to ski. The rest of the time was trying to catch up on school from missing playing golf.'
Weir and his teammates were a close bunch of guys who enjoyed good battles while qualifying for tournaments. However, if you ask him about his best golf memory of Provo, he''s quick to recount a round with his former coach after he graduated.
'We played the back nine one night, and I think I birdied eight of the nine holes,' he said. 'I think Coach actually shot a three or four under on his own ball, himself.'
And that''s exactly how Weir would have it: quite memories of peaceful times on the fairways.
It''s obvious; 2003 has been good to Weir, as the lefty has climbed rankings charts all over the boards. He''s gone from 107th to second in putting efficiency, he has pocketed over $4.7 million in winnings and he''s currently ranked No. 6 in the world golf rankings.
The Masters win was simply icing on a cake that seems to be growing larger each tournament.
'A year ago, I wasn''t that far off,' he adds. 'Last year I only missed one or two cut. I was playing consistent. I see myself working towards being the best player up there.'
His old coach wouldn''t doubt it.
Tucker, who still keeps in touch with Weir and his wife, says the fame and glory hasn''t changed Mike one bit - he''s still the same guy you see on the golf course.
'He''s rather low-key; he''s not high and mighty.'
Likely to add to his long list of accomplishments, Weir will never be the first to tell you what he''s done - if you get a chance to talk to him. But, no offense, he''d rather be out on the fairway.