It wasn't very long ago that David Duval was the No. 1 golfer in the world and arrived at the Masters with lofty expectation draped all over him.

And how was he greeted by the media desperately seeking to intrude deeper into Duval's tight privacy?

By being called a ``dullard.''

``A what?'' Duval asked. ``Are you referring to my game or my personality?''

Duval's career has been anything but dull since he was labeled ``America's Best'' player on the cover of Golf World magazine in 1998. His game and Official World Ranking briefly lived up to the billing before Tiger Woods assumed firm control.

But despite his habitual health flare-ups, recent equipment changes and ongoing endorsement battle, Duval's still got game.

Especially at Augusta. In the years since 1997, when Woods was supposed to assume permanent ownership of the green jacket, only Duval has ceaselessly been in the hunt.

In 1998 it was Duval getting fitted for the green jacket until Mark O'Meara broke into the wardrobe room with three late birdies.

In 1999 it was Duval who entered the back nine Sunday with the chance to set the scoring pace, only to be derailed by a double-bogey at 11.

In 2000 it was Duval who went head-to-head with Vijay Singh in the final pairing before he drowned his chances in the tributary of Rae's Creek fronting the 13th green.

In 2001, it is Duval who matched Woods' 66 on Friday to get back in the hunt for the fourth consecutive year. From his fourth-place spot at 7-under, Duval will attack the weekend with every bit of confidence Woods possesses entering the back 36 - in spite of his recent failures.

``All they can do is help me,'' he said. ``I've been there for three straight years, and I know what the feelings are like and I know what to expect. ... I'm excited about my prospects.''

Knowing and achieving are two very different things at Augusta National. The Masters doesn't always anoint those who are truly qualified. If green jackets were awarded for clinical contention, Greg Norman and Tom Weiskopf would be putting their cleats on in the champions' locker room.

Being ``due'' don't mean nothing here. Ask Norman, who checked out of here Friday at age 46 with an ugly 82 and no guarantee that he'll ever be back.

Duval doesn't want to add his name to the list of Augusta's walking dead. He doesn't want to assume Norman's role.

``After you have experienced it once and you kind of know again what it feels like,'' Duval explained, ``you kind of move on and think about next year and how you can make yourself have a better chance.''

While Duval's sense of disappointment might be numbed, his confidence hasn't waned. Despite sitting out the past month with tendinitis in his wrist and little to show for the 2001 season so far, Duval isn't backing down from his belief that his first major conquest will occur here - now.

``I came in here with every intention of winning the golf tournament,'' he said. ``And I still have that.

``Did I know what to expect? Not necessarily. ... I thought there would be a fair amount of rust. But ... it seemed I was right back where I wanted, if not better, and it has had no effect as of now.''

All Duval needs to close the deal is a little good fortune - the kind of luck Norman never got. The kind of luck Woods experienced at the PGA Championship last year or the Bay Hill Invitational last month.

``You've got to have good breaks to win golf tournaments like this,'' he said. ``But my intent coming in here is not to need those breaks by hitting the ball well, putting well and playing smart. In essence, eliminate every mistake so I don't need a break.''

Duval paused.

``You know, if I need one, I sure would like to get one.''