Hiroshi Tai misses the Masters cut but gains a Major education

AUGUSTA – At the par-three 16th hole named Redbud, the pines looming like lanky spectators, his iron shot floated in the air and settled gently near the pin. Just 11 feet away. Surely, now, a birdie. Surely, after hours of his putter misbehaving, something would fall. Surely, a round of tiny errors would be redeemed late in the day.

The Masters promises nothing.

The putt missed.

Singapore’s Hiroshi Tai bent over in disbelief and frustration. “I had a couple of good looks at birdie,” he said later. “I just didn’t make them.” Then he straightened up and kept grinding. He was not having the best day, but he was discovering who he is during this day.

Tai’s second-round five-over 77, following a one-over 73 in the first round, meant that he missed the cut at his first Masters. Of the five amateurs in the field, none of whom made the cut, he had the second-best score, but did not leave empty-handed. His intangible, priceless prize is a Major education.

Tai may not have been thrilled with his score of 77, but hey, even Tiger Woods posted the same number in his Masters debut back in 1995. Still a student, both in life and on the course, the young Singaporean faced one of golf’s toughest tests this April, surrounded by the sport’s elite. That’s why, despite three bogeys and a double bogey, his spirits remained high.

“I had a lot of fun,” he said. “I learnt a lot.”

Nicola Olyslagers, the Australian high jumper and two-time Olympic silver medalist, has an unusual routine—after each jump, she pulls out a notepad from her kitbag and scores the different elements of her performance. Golfers, too, keep small books in their back pockets for yardage. But this week, it was Tai’s mental notebook he was steadily filling.

Where to land the ball. How the putt curves. The tricks played by the wind. What Charl Schwartzel, the 2011 Masters champion and Tai’s playing partner, was up to. “I think the last few days have been really cool,” said Tai, “just to be able to play with a bunch of really good players and learn a lot from them.”

Tai has played this course before as a Georgia Tech golfer, but it’s in the cauldron, with the course razor-sharp, and adversity digging them in the ribs, that young athletes discover what mettle they consist of. When asked what he learnt about himself, Tai replied, “Mentally, I think I did a good job. Good enough to play out there. And I guess try and enjoy myself as much as I can even when the scores are not as good as you want”.

Augusta National holds ancient secrets. Players who have visited here multiple times are still unravelling its mysteries. And so as a first-timer – just as an aside, no one has won the Masters on their first try since Fuzzy Zoeller in 1979 – the only thing Tai could do was focus fiercely. Even when an American fan, who once lived in Singapore, cheerfully bellowed “Majulah Singapura”, he barely registered it.

“You learn,” he said, “how to play a tough course like this. You learn how much it’s important to put yourself in good spots. Especially par fives.” His cumulative score across the par-fives over two days was three over. He would not like that.

As Tai was learning about Augusta, we learnt about him. First, that he can physically belt the ball. Second, Asian athletes can occasionally be overwhelmed by the occasion but not him. He’s been respectful of where he’s come but never in awe. And, third, when errors came, he shrugged and recommitted himself.

At the seventh hole, his drive drifted far right onto the pine straw where trees forced him to punch out. At the 11th, his 80-foot birdie putt went 19 feet past. Both holes resulted in bogeys. Both times he rebounded with calm pars.

This response mattered on a day when he was not playing badly but just not playing well enough. Yet in a demanding arena he never let mistakes define him. He said, “That’s something really important. Golf’s really hard, so it’s never going to be perfect all the time. Not letting one bad hole lead to another. I think I did a good job of that.”

John Keats once wrote, “nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced”—and who can argue with poets? In sport, this is how athletes build their armoury: by facing tough competition, enduring setbacks, gaining insight, and reflecting. For Tai, these are the early building blocks of what he hopes will be a Major journey.


Following the Singaporean over two challenging days has been a thrill. His composure stands out, as do flashes of his talent. On the par-three fourth, his 240-yard tee shot soared far left, over our heads, behind the ropes. What followed was pure drama.

The ball was on a slope. The flag 37 yards away. A bunker in between. The green challenging. This required a knife thrower’s accuracy and an artisan’s touch. Tai picked a wedge, composed himself and sent the ball spinning into the sunlight. It landed perfectly, just over the bunker, almost as softly as an alighting butterfly, and stopped 13 feet from the pin. 

He missed the par putt and it hurt. But it couldn’t erase the memory of the smiles and whistles and head shakes and cheers which followed a tiny slice of Singaporean magic in Augusta.