Boo Weekley has a unique way of looking at Augusta National

The ripples around the lure spread outin undisturbed circles. Weekley shruggedagain and smiled. "It's all about the history,and I'm not a history guy."

The problem with that argument wasthat Boo wanted to make history by winningthe Masters on his first try. That featwas last accomplished by Fuzzy Zoellerin 1979, and Zoeller, old-timers pointedout, was a bit like Boo -- an easygoing gooberwith a gift for folksy patter.

An evenbetter analog is Sam Snead, the smooth-swinging,yarn-spinning, occasionallybarefoot Virginian who won three Masterstitles in a Hall of Fame career. (Aftertriumphing in his first Tour event, the1937 Oakland Open, Snead famouslyasked how The New York Times had gottenhis photograph. "I've never been inNew York in my life," he scoffed.)

Is it an act? Those who know Weekleywell -- his hunting pals, his neighbors inJay, Fla., his former teachers at MiltonHigh -- invariably say, "With Boo, whatyou see is what you get." Or, "He's genuine."

But then Boo huddles with reportersbehind the 18th green, as he did after afirst-round 72, and you wonder if you'vetuned into one of Jay Leno's sidewalk interviewswith clueless passersby.

"Amen Corner?" Boo's eyebrows riseabout an inch. "What's Amen Corner?Why is that a corner?"

Asked about a puttfor eagle that he had narrowly missed on15, Boo says, "I thought it was a par-4, totell you the truth. I didn't know it was apar-5."

His parting words: "Thank y'all.You have a good one."

Boo's father and mother followed himfor all 72 holes of the Masters, and whileboth of them satisfy the public imaginationup to a point -- Tom Weekley chewstobacco and bellows, "Yeah! Boo-Boo!"from behind the ropes, and Patsy Weekleykeeps the sun off her forehead withoutlandish hats -- neither is a hick.

Tomis a pharmacist and Patsy worked as aregistered nurse.