What a Masters Sunday it will be. Phil Mickelson is tied for the lead and battling perception demons like no one here since Greg Norman. Can Phil keep his cool in the Sunday afternoon crucible? So much is at stake for Mickelson, chiefly the chance to kill the no-majors stigma, and to win a tournament his game was made for. Can Mickelson play golf today like an accountant and not a lion tamer?

Can he continue to resist swinging for the fences?

Tiger Woods takes a break at the eighth tee during the third round Saturday. (AP photo)

Can his good friend Chris DiMarco win his first major? Can Ernie Els keep his focus for 18 grinding holes? Can Paul Casey, the 26-year-old Brit in his first Masters, keep his cool? Can anyone watching identify Paul Casey?

After a year of Martha Burk and two years of lousy weather, the Masters is back in all its southern-scented glory: The loving nostalgia of Arnold Palmer's swan song, the Formica-slick greens, the likely Sunday afternoon drama. It's all there. Except Tiger. Tiger is nine shots behind and fading. He shot a 75 Saturday, when he needed a 65.

"I was just a little off," Woods allowed. "It's frustrating, because I'm so close to putting it together."

Either Woods is trying to keep his head from taking the last train to Doubtville, or he's seriously delusional. Some of us have never seen Woods more off.

I'm standing in the pines 30 yards to the right of the 13th fairway, 300 yards from where Woods is uncorking his tee shot. The 13th isn't quite the birdie sanctuary it once was. But for a big hitter like Woods, it's an opportunity.

I've got the binoculars trained on Woods' ball. It's high, it's long. It's coming right at my head. If I don't move a few feet to the right, it hits me square on the bean. Instead, it lands in loblolly jail.

From there, Woods' "recovery" clips a pine bough, which re-directs the ball dead sideways, almost into the creek. The next shot lands in the bunker behind the green. Woods' blast rolls 50 feet past the cup. And so on.

Woods needed to birdie the 13th to become Sunday-relevant. Instead, he Hindenburg-ed it from end to end. The double bogey was so shocking, the massive gallery lining the fairway fell silent enough, you could have heard a mystique drop.

And we won't even get into the bogey Woods made at 14 where, inexplicably, he hit a putt from the bottom of a slope that never made it to the top. The ball rolled back down the hill like it had an engine attached.

Didn't you used to be Tiger Woods? A day like this - tough conditions, requiring a tough mind and an A golf game - used to be made for Woods. He'd put himself in a good place Friday. His 69 got him to even par, six shots behind. Saturday would be Statement Day. Tiger made a statement, all right.

The roars for the sentimental favorite Mickelson whooshed from the eighth hole, where he made birdie while Woods was at the 10th green, missing a birdie putt. Once as close as Woods' own ear, the Masters roars now are as faint for him as a dying heartbeat.

Mickelson, DeMarco and Els should put on quite a show today. "I've been keeping the ball in play. It makes the game so much easier," said Mickelson, a better-late-than-never revelation from the Middle-Aged Lefthander.

Mickelson waits for the roars. Tiger Woods, formerly the proprietor here, hopes he can coax their return.

Maybe next year.

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E-mail pdaugherty@enquirer.com