The size of a standard window, the matted print is a cumbersome collectible to tote around a golf course, but Jerry Keck has a mission.

``Now I'm trying to get the second hardest autograph in sports next to Michael Jordan -- Tiger Woods,'' said Keck, 59. It is the only name the Roswell, Ga., man needs to make his collectible complete -- at least until Sunday when another champion dons the green jacket.

Three years ago, Keck purchased a sketched print depicting the tournament trophy and the faces of the winners through 1994. A friend challenged Keck, an avid sports autograph collector, to get the print signed by every living Masters champion.

The black-and-white print is now highlighted with 33 green signatures, each golfer scribbling across his picture. Keck found copies of the signatures of deceased tournament winners and Augusta National Golf Club co-founder Bobby Jones. He carefully cut around these reproduced signatures and glued them to the print.

``It'll never be finished,'' said Keck, who has been attending the Masters Tournament or practice rounds since 1987. ``Every year, it comes out of the frame for the next winner.''

Another golf fan once offered Keck $10,000 for the signed collectible, but he won't dare sell it.

Keck, whose wife calls him ``an eternal groupie'' has vivid stories to go with nearly every autograph on the print. Some he has gotten at the Masters or the BellSouth Classic Tournament in Atlanta, where he works as a security guard.

But other autographs have taken quite a bit of effort.

To get the autograph of 1956 champion Jack Burke Jr., Keck entrusted the print to a friend in Houston. The friend managed to find Burke at a local country club and convinced him to add his name to the collectible-in-progress.

To get the signatures of Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, Tom Watson, Ben Crenshaw, Raymond Floyd, Gene Sarazen and Ben Hogan, Keck rolled the then-unframed and unmatted print and shipped it to them in a tube, return postage guaranteed.

Hogan, who was ill at the time, took 2 1/2 months to sign the picture and send it back.

Keck also shipped the print to 1938 winner Henry Picard, but he didn't return it. Convinced he might lose his piece of history, Keck called Picard and asked if he could personally retrieve the print.

Picard, who was in his 90s at the time, agreed to the visit, but said, ``I'm not waiting for you,'' Keck remembered with a chuckle.

When Keck arrived at Picard's home in Charleston, S.C., his shipping tube was laying in the golfer's driveway. The picture hadn't been signed.

The way Keck remembers it, he sat down on Picard's front porch, head in hands, and lamented the five-hour return drive to Roswell. Picard burst from the back yard, a golf club in hand, and demanded to know what this stranger wanted, Keck said.

Keck explained himself -- again -- collected the autograph and then engaged the former golf great in a trip down memory lane.

``I just said, `Are you working on your swing?''' Keck said, referring to the golf club turned weapon.

Picard's answer was a brusque, ``It was a damn good swing.''