AUGUSTA, Ga. (AP) -- Ben Crenshaw didn't have to open his mouth to explain what the Masters means to him.
He was wearing it on his sleeve. Make that over his heart.
There it was, the Masters logo, on a shirt that looked like he had bought it that morning from the Augusta National pro shop.
Perhaps he had, with the same wide-eyed wonder he had when he first set foot on the course for real as an amateur in 1972.
"I enjoy playing here so much," Crenshaw said Thursday, looking for a moment as though he might burst into tears. "It just means so much to me."
It's hard to imagine this annual spring rite amid the flowering azaleas and towering pines being more important to anyone else still living this side of Arnold Palmer.
Golf history? Crenshaw not only loves it, he devours it. Emotion? It doesn't get any mushier than the sight of Crenshaw sobbing on the 18th green after winning a green jacket for his mentor, Harvey Penick, in 1995.
And, if the Masters is a tradition like no other, Crenshaw is a traditionalist like no other. He's loves the champions dinner, soaks up the clubhouse atmosphere, worships every blade of grass on the course.
That's what made his first round Thursday so special. For perhaps the last time, it put him in a place he least expected -- on the leader board.
The 1-under 71 Crenshaw shot put him in a tie for eighth. But it won't help him win the Masters.
There won't be any tearful references on the 18th green on Sunday to the golfing wisdom Penick, gave him. Tiger Woods won't be slipping a green jacket over his shoulders.
Oddsmakers in Las Vegas probably wouldn't even take a wager on Crenshaw making the cut. There were way too many 3-irons to undulating greens, way too many miracle escapes for that.
Crenshaw himself understands better than most that, at the age of 54, his time has long since come and gone.
"I wish to say it was different, but it's doubtful," Crenshaw said.
But give a dreamer a chance to dream.
Crenshaw came here this week expecting to be beaten down by a course bulked up for the big bangers of today. He came here knowing the days were numbered before he became just a ceremonial fixture.
He hadn't made a cut in eight years, and now he had to face a course supersized for the big bangers of today. He came prepared to be embarrassed.
"It's time for us to pull over in the slow lane," Crenshaw said after arriving. "If we don't pull over, they're going to run us over. I've already been run over many times."
Then a funny thing happened. They didn't run Crenshaw over. And it wasn't because he was playing too fast.
He called it a miracle round, for more reasons than he's a short knocker playing against today's giants. Crenshaw not only hasn't played Augusta National well in recent years, he hasn't played anywhere well for a long time.
His best finish on the senior tour last year was a tie for 14th in 18 tournaments. The year before he could do no better than a best of 20th.
Even he couldn't imagine shooting his best round since a 68 in the final round in 1995 capped a mournful week that began with the death of his beloved teacher. That win seemed to come from heaven, but there have been no wins anywhere since.
Crenshaw wasn't dwelling on that after a round played before appreciative crowds on a course he wasn't supposed to be able to play anymore.
He was thinking about how he's played in 34 of these, and how his time is dwindling.
"I've been luckier than most here," Crenshaw said.
Luck only goes so far. With his putter, Little Ben, in hand, Gentle Ben was a master of these greens, winning in 1984 and again after Penick died.
The image of him with his head in hands on the 18th green, heaving with each sob and thinking of Penick during his own finest hour is as indelible a Masters moment as any.
Crenshaw seemed to somehow will himself to win while mourning the death of a friend, who first put a cut down old mashie in Crenshaw's hands as a youngster and told him to trust his instincts.
The day before the Masters started, Crenshaw helped carry Penick's coffin to his grave. Then he somehow composed himself enough to do what his mentor had taught him.
"I had a 15th club in the bag today, and that was Harvey -- Harvey Penick," Crenshaw said that day.
There won't be any storybook endings this week. Someone who hits the ball more than 300 yards will win this Masters, and Crenshaw and the man who has carried his bag around Augusta National the last 30 years, Carl Jackson, will be long gone by the time it's over.
Expectations have changed as the years have gone on. One day on the leaderboard was one more than Crenshaw had counted on.
"We're just enjoying being here, really," he said.
Copyright 2006 Associated Press. All rights reserved.
