Long and winding road to glory for Weir
His wife ran onto the 10th green, arms outstretched, unleashing memories that reminded him just how far he had travelled to become Masters champion.
They spent weeks at a time on opposite ends of the world when he played the tiniest of tours. Bricia worked as his caddy to save a few bucks. They rented storage units for $50 a month so they wouldn't have to pay for an apartment while travelling.
"That was the most satisfying moment of the whole tournament, having my wife run out there on the green, the sacrifices she's made and the belief she had in me," Weir said.
Weir returns to play Augusta National today as the first left-hander, and first Canadian, to have won the Masters.
He fits right in with recent Masters champions who had times in their careers when they could not picture themselves in a green jacket.
Jose Maria Olazabal spent 18 months in bed with a foot injury, wondering if he would walk again, much less play golf. A doctor finally diagnosed a back problem and two years later the Spaniard strode to a two-shot victory in 1999.
Vijay Singh was exiled to the rain forests of Borneo in 1985, earning minimum wage plus $10 for lessons at Keningau Club.
Fifteen years later, he was a model of poise on his way to victory in the 2000 Masters.
Weir was no different. It wasn't the six tries at Q-school before he finally earned his PGA Tour card or the time he warmed up next to Nick Price at the '95 Canadian Open, hearing the sound off Price's irons that made Weir realise how inadequate his game was.
Weir traces his despair and his resilience to the Indonesian Open in the mid-1990s.
He was on his own, struggling to keep his hopes alive. The course was an hour from the hotel, and Weir had to get a cab. Worse yet, the cab broke down on the flooded back roads of Jakarta.
"I carried my bag through this muddy water, hitchhiking to the course," Weir said. "I got through it and shot 80, made a nine on a par three. Probably then, I had a tough time thinking I would win the Masters.
"But those times made me tougher and makes it even more rewarding, " he said. "I appreciated it as much as the other guys who came from a different background to get there."
If his journey to a green jacket was extraordinary, so was his final round. He went from a one-shot lead to a three-shot deficit when Len Mattiace showed that Augusta's longer, stronger back nine left room for a dramatic charge.
Weir answered with precision wedges and clutch putts the 12-foot birdie putt on No 13, a wedge into five feet for birdie on No 15 to tie, then one of the most nerve-racking putts in a major championship.
After leaving a long birdie putt on the final hole some six feet short, Weir steeled himself and holed it for par to force the first sudden-death play-off at Augusta National in 13 years.
The play-off ended quickly when Mattiace pulled his approach on No 10 to the left, behind a tree. He eventually made double bogey, leaving Weir two putts from six feet to win.
Weir emerged as an instant star and the highest-ranked lefty in golf. He has won seven times on Tour, including a Tour Championship and a World Golf Championship.
"Any time you win a major, there's probably a different level of respect because the players ultimately know how hard it is to win one," Weir said.
Respect hasn't always come easily.
In his second year on the PGA Tour, the Canadian was in the final group with Tiger Woods at the 1999 PGA Championship, only to shoot an 80 on Sunday in the final round.
A week later, he won his first PGA Tour event in Vancouver.
Weir returned to Augusta National last week playing a practice round with his father and his caddie, Brennan Little, a longtime friend. He spent the night in Bobby Jones' cabin, found his locker in the Champions Room (he shares one with Doug Ford) and played the course.
"I had a chance to take my dad and play," he said. "Each hole, we went around and I reminisced about a certain shot, showed him where I was on a certain hole and what I was thinking. That was cool to relive that."
Cooler yet is what it took to get him there.






