Humble Johnson stays on fast track

It was forever ago when Zach Johnson sat in that Augusta National media room, and it wasn't. It was forever ago when the guy who wasn't the best golfer on his high school or college team and needed the financial support of 10 local businessmen back home in Iowa to chase his professional dream conquered one of the sport's most storied courses and its greatest player, and it wasn't. It was forever ago. It was April 2007.

There is instant success, and there is outplaying Tiger Woods on Sunday at the Masters. There is hacking around minor league tours like the Prairie and Hooters and Nationwide and becoming the most unexpected winner of a green jacket since Larry Mize 20 years earlier.

There is having no appearance requests one day and hundreds the next. There is taking the usual post-tournament call from your parents, then one from Letterman's people.

You have to wonder if all that might change a guy. You have to assume it would.

"I hope not," Johnson said. "I think I'm still the same person. There was no way to remotely prepare for it, no way to know what to expect. If any added pressure came with it, I think I've dealt with it pretty well."

His time is more inflexible now, something that becomes apparent when securing a five-minute interview with Johnson following a pro-am is like chasing some one-on-one time with the Dalai Lama. His game hasn't changed much. Still steady. Still straight. Still unexciting in a good way, one that has allowed him to make 102 of 136 career cuts and win more than $12 million.

When he won at San Antonio last week, it was the first time Johnson lifted a PGA Tour trophy outside of Georgia, which for a guy from Cedar Rapids doesn't make much sense but is one of those quirky facts to spice up the ol' bio.

He must have enjoyed the feeling, having grabbed a share of the first-round lead of the Justin Timberlake Shriners Hospitals for Children Open with a 10 under par Thursday at TPC Summerlin.

Johnson missed just two fairways and never swung anything but driver on all par 4s and 5s. He shot 62 and easily could have gone as low as 59. He did what most who succeed here each fall do -- tore up a welcoming course when the wind doesn't swirl.

"He is a great golfer and great man," said Kirk Triplett, who shot a 5-over 77 playing in Johnson's group. "I think when you are younger like him and (win the Masters), you believe you are bulletproof. But he has kept working. He is constantly trying to improve. He knows his best golf is ahead of him."

Woods with a good knee wouldn't have played here this week, but what the season-ending injury to the world's best player has done the past three months is allow other names to stand under the sport's spotlight for any who care to watch.

Young, talented players. Anthony Kim. Camilo Villegas. It also has reintroduced the 32-year-old Johnson to golf's fan base, most of which remembers April 2007 but likely hasn't thought about him much since.

"Having Tiger Woods out of golf for a certain period stinks," Johnson said. "It stinks. He elevates not only the game but all of us as far as trying to be better. I wish he was playing but obviously understand. But what it does is give others an opportunity, and that's great. You are seeing some great names surface."

Players are so incredibly gifted at this level, it's ridiculous. Johnson fits the role. You couldn't forecast how he would respond to winning the Masters but knew anyone who hits that consistently could hang around the top 50 for an extended period while winning here and there. He ranks 33rd today.

But when you saw him that Sunday in the Augusta National media room, minutes after breaking down and sobbing when hugging his wife and kissing his baby son upon leaving the 18th green, you wondered how fast such sudden celebrity might change the humble guy who came off more Midwest than rolling hills roamed by livestock.

He spoke of his parents still having the ceremonial cardboard check from his first pro win, of being handed the trophy by a Hooters girl and thinking it was the greatest day of his life when they broke out the post-tournament chicken wings.

Johnson seems the same today. His peers agree. He was asked this week what three words best describe him. He came up with two. Dork and intense.

"Whether I'm speaking at a corporate event or Christian outreach, I'm the same person," he said. "I can't change who I am. I hope I never do."

It was forever ago when he was asked to compare himself to the Nike monster he had just beaten: "I'm just Zach Johnson from Cedar Rapids, Iowa. That's it. I'm just a normal guy."

And it wasn't.

Ed Graney can be reached at 702-383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.