Pavin returns to scene of his greatest victory

My, things sure have changed since Corey Pavin's last U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills Golf Club.

For one, the mowers are set much higher when they roll over the spot where he launched that memorable 4-wood in 1995. What was once nice, smooth grass has been transformed into thick rough for this Open.

``I've been out there a couple of times goofing around, and it's a lot harder shot from the rough than it was from the fairway,'' Pavin said Monday.

Then again, even off the short grass, it's hard to envision the Pavin of today duplicating that shot, the one that became the signature of his only major title.

Clinging to a one-stroke lead going to No. 18, he lined the ball from 228 yards right at the pin. He trotted over the knoll to see where the ball came to rest -- about 6 feet from the hole. He missed the birdie putt, but it didn't matter.

``He had to hit a one-in-thousand shot to get it that close,'' 2001 U.S. Open champ Retief Goosen said, walking away from the 18th after a practice round. ``That's not a shot that's going to be repeated easily.''

Not long after the biggest win of his career, Pavin's game fell apart. He's been trying ever since to put it back together.

While some of the older golfers on Tour have shown that age is merely a number, the 44-year-old Pavin has about as much chance of repeating this week as Vin Diesel does of winning an Oscar.

``I actually felt my game slipping in the second half of '96,'' said Pavin, who has gone eight years without a win. ``Really, for the most part since then, it's been very difficult. I haven't quite figured out what's going on and gotten my swing where I wanted it. I haven't played anywhere near the way I would like to.''

The diminutive Pavin -- he's only 5-foot-9, 155 pounds -- disputes the theory that his game was ravaged by rapidly changing technology, which led to longer and longer courses, which made it harder and harder for a length-challenged player to compete.

A couple of years ago, when the Open was last held on Long Island at Bethpage Black, Pavin struggled on a course that included the two longest par-4s in tournament history.

There was the disheartening sight of Pavin striking a tee shot right down the middle, then arriving to find his ball lodged in thick rough. He had not even reached the first cut of the fairway.

``I don't think technology has hurt me at all,'' he insisted. ``Everybody is in the same boat in that regard. That has no bearing on how I've played.''

Nevertheless, something happened since Pavin's last PGA Tour win, the 1996 Colonial. He plummeted from 18th to 169th on the money list the following year, and he's cracked the top 100 only once since (No. 70 in '99).

This year hasn't been much better. Pavin started out reasonably well, making the cut in his first six events and tying for 10th at Pebble Beach.

Since then, he's failed to make it to the weekend in four of six events, placing no better than 31st. As is usually the case with this finicky game, he's not quite sure what needs fixing.

``If I had figured it out, I'd be playing a lot better now,'' Pavin said. ``It's been tough. I've worked hard. There's a lot of frustration, a lot of time I've put into it, and I'm hoping it'll pay off pretty soon.''

Pavin's career was defined -- and literally divided -- by that special week on the links course where waist-high fescue flaps in the steady breezes.

Before the '95 Open, Pavin had been lumped into that dreaded ``Best Player Never to Win a Major'' category. He arrived at Shinnecock Hills with 12 career wins, two stints on the U.S. Ryder Cup team and eight top-10 finishes in the majors.

Pavin was steady all week, keeping his score at even-par on the wicked course. Still, he will always be remembered for one shot, a 4-wood of such brilliance that hardly anyone remembers it took two more shots to finish.

``In the end, he didn't need to make the putt,'' Goosen pointed out.

Pavin still has vivid memories of what it was like to stand over the shot. Largely forgotten, he had been in a similar position two days earlier and put the ball on the green.

``I had a good visual in my mind,'' Pavin said. ``I was very confident with that and just went through my routine, hit the shot. The second I hit it, I knew it was going to be good.''

He didn't know it would be such a fleeting moment. Maybe that's why the memories came flooding back when he returned for another Open.

Pavin remembers toasting the win from the roof of the Cape Cod-style clubhouse, drinking champagne and sucking down shrimp and oysters.

``It was a great day, a day I'll always remember the rest of my life,'' he said. ``It will always be there, which is nice.''