I just saw the highlights of the 1969 Masters on the Golf Channel for the first time in 25 years. I thought to myself, ``Man, I don't swing like that no more.'' I guess that's what happens after seven operations in 30 years.

That week, I was sick with the flu. I didn't have any practice rounds and didn't hit any balls. It was doubtful that I was going to play, but I was here, so I said why not. I tried to practice. I hit a practice drive on 8 but couldn't walk up that hill. So I just walked through the old driving range, into the clubhouse and to the house I was staying.

There were some friends from Gilroy, Calif., with me, and I had some friends from South America that week. They rotated in taking care of me. My wife, Donna, stayed at home with our two daughters.

I didn't feel good till Sunday because I kept waiting for the flu to get me. After the first round, where I shot a 67, I was a stroke behind Billy Casper. And going into the final round, I was still second, a shot behind Casper.

As we made the turn to go to the back nine on Sunday, I saw that I had a three-shot lead.

But then I watched Charles Coody, who I was playing behind all day, birdie 11. Then I saw him eagle 13. We didn't have a lot of scoreboards back then, so there were times you didn't know where you stood. After I bogeyed 14, I thought I was 1-down to him. Then I watched him chip close on 15 and make birdie, so I thought I was 2-down.

In the middle of the 15th fairway, I thought I needed to go for an eagle, so I hit a 4-iron that caught the bank and rolled in. I didn't see the splash, but I knew it was in from the groans.

After I dropped, I chipped back into the bank, sort of like a bump-and-run shot, and it trickled up there to about 13 feet. I made that for par. Really an unbelievable par there. Only when I walked to the 16th tee did I see that Coody had made bogey at 14, so I was only 1-down.

Then I watched him hit into the left trap on 16 and make bogey. Then I watched Coody make bogey on 17 and 18, and I parred in. After I was through, I waited behind the 18th green because Casper needed a birdie to tie.

He missed the green, and when his chip came up short, lots of people started patting me on the back.

Bob Goalby put the green jacket on me. Me being 6-foot-6, I didn't know what to expect. But the coat they gave me to wear then was so big it was a joke. It was some guy from Oklahoma's coat. He must have been 6-9, more than 300 pounds. That was ridiculous. I wear a 44 extra long, and this must have been a 49 or a 50. I certainly wasn't cramped for style, that's for sure.

Clifford Roberts asked me to have dinner with him that night, so I showered in his cabin and changed. I ate with Mr. Roberts and Tom Weiskopf and his wife. Weiskopf wasn't in that great of a mood because he lost his chance to win. And Mr. Roberts was never that much of a talker, so it was a very cut and dry dinner.

I was staying about 10 blocks from the course, and somehow I got back there. I think I walked home. It was about 9 that night, and all my friends were already pooped from celebrating my win. I missed the party.