I didn’t have a choice – nothing was flying out besides golf balls!

Ah, Delta Airlines. They’ll strand you and forget about you, much like they did to me during Round 2 of the Masters. That’s right, while Perry was eyeing the lead and Tiger was falling behind, I was sitting in Atlanta wondering what kind of papers I needed to get out. And then I had a thought:

What if we scored these carriers the way we score the pros in golf? Delta Airlines would have more strokes on it than Tri-Delta Sorority. I say let the hacking begin!

Friday Afternoon: 9 Under

Chad Campbell was taking the lead, and Delta wasn’t doing too badly. As I waited at my gate to fly from Baton Rouge to Atlanta, I was next to a man wearing a black denim kilt. He wasn’t even Scottish!

Also, the black denim really looked like a pleated skirt – befitting a large woman or small armchair. I was really disturbed. Where are tacky golf pants when you need them?!

Nonetheless, Delta did their thing and got me to Atlanta, where I was booked on the next flight north into Pittsburgh. Meanwhile, in Augusta, Kenny Perry (age 48) was becoming the oldest guy to go by the name “Kenny.”

Friday, Early Evening: Tiger Mashes the Drive

It was the 18th hole after a long day for the guy – he’d tried to make the birdie on 17 but received a few instead. After all, the winds were picking up in Georgia and the storms were moving in.

Likewise, Delta delayed my flight by an hour and a half. No worries, I thought. I can wait it out.

I went to my next gate, and Tiger took his business to the driving range. He had seven strokes to overcome, and I had an hour and a half.

The game was still pretty manageable.

Friday Night: A Look at the Leaderboard

The thing was turned on its head from what you might expect. With Tiger in 19th place and Mickelson hitting sideways on the first hole, others like Anthony Kim could stay cool and score 11 birdies.

As for me, I stared at the concourse monitors. The lightning picked up, and Delta delayed me two more hours. So much for staying under par!

I learned soon that electrical outlets in airports are like oases on the Serengeti. I was juicing my laptop and catching up on inane Facebook statuses (“Suzy Jones-Moonslapper is thinking about brunch!”) when suddenly, I was surrounded by half a dozen college missionaries. They were twittering, and I don’t mean with technology.

“I had my first kiss this morning!” one girl said. “It was Pedro, the guy who delivers the bread. I don’t wanna talk about it…” So why’d she bring it up, then?

“Who won the NCAA tournament?” said one of the guys. Goodness, what planet had they been on that had bread deliverers and no basketball?

“We’re ICO students,” said the same guy when I asked. “We just got back from the Dominican.”

And now they were up in my space. They had plugged in everything from iPhones to flatirons. It was going to be a long night. Until...

Atlanta Became My Amen Corner:
Gates 11, 12, and 13

I was on my way back to the gate from a restroom when I saw one ICO student sprinting by. And then another. And another. And then a herd of them, like retired orthodontists chasing Tiger to the green.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Where in the f…, uh, flight deck are you going?”

“Our flight’s cancelled!” said Pedro’s girl. “We’re seeing if we can get on standby over there!”

Of course, I thought. Where the big line is.

Skirting the line, I went to the counter at the gate next door. The one guy in front of me looked vaguely familiar. That was because he was Justin Guarini, Season One’s second-place American Idol.

“You gotta help me out!” I said to the agent. “I’m Kelly Clarkson!”

“You’re not Kelly Clarkson,” the ticket agent said. She wasn’t nearly as smiley with me as she had been with Justin. “Hell, you ain’t even Rachael Ray.”

“I dunno,” I said. “I can make a mean…analogy?”

The Delta agent printed a standby request. “Get away from the tarmac.”

“But it’s really just carpet, Mac!” I said. She didn’t think it was funny.

It didn’t matter, though, because I had nothing to lose. The ticket agent had handed me a paper that said SEAT REQUEST, but what it really should have said is FAKE TICKET, because it doesn’t do anything besides placate the owner.

With two more hours until any hope of standby, I curled up. Maybe I’d be mistaken for one of the ICO.

Padraig Harrington, Hole No. 2

Paddy spent early Saturday morning stuck in a piney area known as “the airline ticket counter” – if you go there, you should really just buy your ticket home. I started Saturday much the same way. It was 1 a.m.…

“De Carlo! Party of 5!” called Delta.

FORE! I thought.

“That’s me!” I cried. “But I’m just one.”

“Um,” said the gate agent, confused.

At that exact moment, I heard, “GO! GO! GO!” as two guys and three kids walked briskly through the gate, ignoring the crazy person trying to steal their name. I went immediately into shock. My name got called for standby … and I was the WRONG DAMN DE CARLO.

“BLEEEP!” said the ICO chaperone. He was shocked, too. “That really sucks!”

Easy for him, I thought. He and his kids were getting on the plane.

But I was stuck in Atlanta. Even that guy with the derby and the giant red umbrella was grounded that stormy night…

Saturday Is “Moving Day” at The Masters

Apparently, Delta felt that way, too.

I don’t like to talk much about the rest of that night. An airport overnight becomes a weird dimension of limbo. The businesses close. Defeated people hunker down. Concourses become lined with the closed-eyed souls of the connecting. And I wasn’t rebooked out of Atlanta until 1 p.m. that day…

So what would Round 3 bring for the great Tiger? He tanked on the first hole, sending a shot up and away into some attorney’s egg salad.

And Delta delayed my flight until 2. I don’t know why. I mean, why did Tiger miss Friday’s putts?

But remember, now, his best rounds come on Saturday. Tiger made par on 18 and was still in the game. And even Delta Airlines got me into Pittsburgh.

So, then, what’s the final score? What can we learn from all of this?

Tiger Woods finished T-6th, but had a final-round 68. Geaux Tiger!

Angel Cabrera was this year’s winner in an exciting two-hole playoff – as in “Oh my God, HE KILLED KENNY…”

Delta Airlines finished the weekend with 20 hours of delay for a couple hundred people. Delta finished T-∞th.

The moral of the story is: The biggest names are not always the most dependable.