Handicapping Sunday at the Masters

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AUGUSTA, Ga. -- Hello, Tiger. Hello, Phil. Those couches comfy?

It must feel a little strange for you guys to be plopped in front your big screens on a Masters Sunday. I mean, what are the odds, right? But do we have a jailbreak tournament for you.

Imagine: We have a chance to get the youngest winner ever. And we have a chance to get the oldest winner ever. We could get a winner who pulls his baseball cap over his ears, or a guy who wears a ponytail, or a guy who doesn't have a hair on his head. We have a sobber and a smiler and a Swede. We've got more storylines than the Sundance Film Festival.

Now, since you guys hardly ever do this, a few pointers:

The first person you'll hear when you watch the Masters on TV is Jim Nantz, your CBS host. He will start with, "Hello, friends." He calls everybody "friend." He has more friends than Mark Zuckerberg.

You will also see the same three ads over and over and over again. You will begin to hate these ads from the center of your soul. And yet, on Monday, you'll find yourself buying a Mercedes over your AT&T phone and not even realizing it.

Now, there's nine really good players within 3 shots of the lead, and that never happens.

Start with this kid Jordan Spieth. He was born in 1993. That means he's 20. You guys have lawsuits that old.

If he wins, he'd break your record, Tiger, as the youngest Masters winner -- by about 7 months. Maybe that's a sore subject, but he might. He looks 20, but his head is 40.

Spieth calls anybody older than him "Mister," which means he calls just about everybody "Mister." Will he call Bubba Watson "Mister" when they're paired in the final tee time Sunday?

"Yup. Mr. Watson. Just because it'll mess with him."

Watson, for his part, is cool with that. "Especially when I'm driving it by him."

Watson is a real nut, and not just because he will cry at a Subaru commercial. "I do have issues," he admitted Saturday night.

Where do we start? He's got ADD. He doesn't like people around him. He tends to blow his temper at his caddie, who usually blows right back at him.

He has a golf swing that would make Jim Furyk bury his face in his hands. It kind of resembles a dance move they used to teach at Arthur Murray -- feet moving all over the place, a big outside-in move and then a big fall off the shot at the end, just the way they tell you not to do it. And yet here he is, with a chance to win two of the last three Masters.

Not that this is, you know, important.

"If I shoot 90 tomorrow," he said Saturday night, "I still have a green jacket. So it's not as bad."

Tiger, I can hear your molars grinding from here.

One guy without a green jacket, or any major at all, is Matt Kuchar, who's 1 shot back and who could grin through his own execution. This is a huge moment for him. He's older than you think -- 35 -- and he's been playing in majors for 16 years with only one top-5 to show for it. He's climbing into that dreaded BPTNWAM category -- Best Player to Never Win a Major -- which is kind of like golf's STD. You don't want to end up with it.

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