It wasn't the end of putting my game on display publicly, however. That didn't happen until a few years later, at the pro-am of the 1999 Byron Nelson. At a banquet early in the week, I mentioned to Byron that I was playing alongside Fred Couples in the pro-am. "I'll come out and watch you hit your first shot," he said. I thought—hoped—that Byron would forget about it. A ton of people were there when I went to the tee. Making it worse, the first-tee announcer gives a ridiculously long introduction that included the phrase, "Jim Nantz, the man who taught Fred Couples how to play golf." After I pegged my ball, I notice a commotion near the tee. I glance, and the gallery is parting like Moses parting the Red Sea. Here comes Byron, who, after arriving, leans on his cane and watches me, rapt. My mind left my body. My first swing was like a trick shot, the bottom of the driver nicking the ball just enough to make it fall off the tee. After surgically removing the tee so as not to disturb the ball, I take my 3-wood and hit the ball three feet. I glance at Byron, and he's looking around, confused, as though it might be some kind of joke. And it was a joke. After nubbing my third shot down the fairway, I stood next to one of my buddies, Tommy Spencer, and said, "After this is over, I'm announcing my retirement. I will never do this again."