Double P :: The Official Blog

And like a man with his pet/You always seem to forget/That you ain't me/You ain't me...

Now I'm no Loewe or Lerner (no, not Rich Lerner, though he did a nice job this weekend subbing for Kelly Tilghman, but rather the musical comedy writing team known for such classics as "My Fair Lady" and "Brigadoon"), so I couldn't tell you what the lyric "like a man with his pet" means. What I can tell you is that they don't make 'em like Pat Perez on Tour often enough.

They ain't like Pat Perez.

Is his temper sometimes unsportsmanlike? Yes. Can he be brusque and standoffish? Yes. Is he made from the cookie-cutter mold of corporate blandness that Tim (How Does My Suit Fit?) Finchem would like all players cut from? No.

And that's why it was such a blast of desert-fresh winter air to see Perez vault to victory in style, making eagle on the 90th hole of a five-round birdie-fest in which he'd already posted rounds of 61 and 63.

I found myself laughing out loud - in a good way - at my TV set when Perez met his fan club after the win. His crew of rowdies, misfits and buddy Tommy Armour III - perhaps a triple redundancy - stormed the green to mob him and hand him a bottle of something to swig after his interview with Dottie Pepper. Was it champagne? Bourbon? Beer? Moonshine? I couldn't tell, but all I know is Perez took a mighty pull. I don't see Tiger or Phil or anybody else celebrating with such natural, free-flowing gusto, so it was tough to suppress the smiles. Watch out, Kapalua in 2010: Perez's crew is coming.

Plus, it was a long time coming. Those of us who had a ringside seat to Perez's 72nd-hole meltdown at Pebble Beach in February of 2002 will never forget it.

Way back in those more innocent days, the rookie was making his fourth start on tour had a win at storied Pebble in his hands - a four-shot lead with 18 to play. A career-defining 'W' was within reach and would surely launch him to greater heights. What ensued was alternately compelling and hard to watch.

That day in '02, Perez hit a 3-wood out of bounds on 14 and made a double bogey, which he followed up with a club-slamming show that displayed all the nerves of a rookie trying to win at Pebble. But he composed himself, making gorgeous birdies on 15 and 17 that spoke to this prodigy's enormous talent. And then, the denouement - with a one-shot lead on 18, he hit a tee shot that went out-of-bounds right by one lousy foot. A re-tee, another ball lost - this one left, into the Pacific - and next thing you know, photographers had a field day shooting rapid-fire pictures of a man slashing his golf club to the turf like a machete, calling to mind the days of Tommy Bolt in his prime. It was a career-defining meltdown, for all of a national TV audience, Jim Nantz and Clint Eastwood to see.

Everywhere he went for more than a year, and even longer, Perez was asked about Pebble. It festered, and he grew terse.

It was tough for the public to connect with Perez, even though the charisma remained. His combative style is symbolized by his use of boxing gloves as head covers. And his web site,PatPerezGolf.com, speaks to his unorthodox ways, featuring a logo of crossed golf clubs and a ball on a tee surrounded by flames, an unmistakable attempt to look like a skull and crossbones. It's more Oakland Raiders than PGA Tour, and one could safely assume the boys in Ponte Vedra Beach, Fla., wouldn't put that logo on any golf shirts anytime soon.

Meanwhile, the years slipped away without a win.

Then, seven years later on a January day in the Coachella Valley, he watched as someone else fell apart; first, Steve Stricker imploding with one tee shot O.B. and another one wet en route to a quadruple bogey; then youngster John Merrick, making bogey on 17 and failing to make birdie on 18. So defining is the Pebble memory, he even brought it up to Pepper, saying he told his caddie he wasn't going to make 18 at the Hope like he did on 18 at Pebble.

And Perez stood tall for two of the more pure golf shots of his life. First, the drive on 18, which was simply nutted. Second, the 6-iron from 200, struck as full of belief as any shot you'll see, to four feet. An eagle being a fairly celebratory way to finish your first career win, the toast from his pals was understandable.

Of course, Perez being Perez, he answered the first question about Pebble with a Perezian, "Jesus Christ, if I have to answer any more questions about Pebble... I hope you guys will drop it."

One hundred and ninety-four starts since Pebble, and the bad boy made good. You couldn't help but smile.