America at Large: When word first began to circulate around the Masters pressroom that Vijay Singh and Phil Mickelson had had words in the Champions' locker-room, I sent word to Lefty through his press agent, TR Reinman, that an appropriate response would have been: "If the spike marks bother you so much, why don't you just follow me around with an eraser? I understand you're pretty good with that."

Coming as it did on what had been a dreadfully slow news day - in a rain-spattered 69th Masters, no contending player had completed his second round on Friday - news of the Lefty-Vijay tiff was music to the ears of the scribes.

The first inkling had come earlier when Will Nicholson, the chairman of the Masters competition committee, convened a press briefing in which he assessed the condition of the course and explained the reasons (possible lightning in the area, mainly) for the early suspension of play.

Almost parenthetically, Nicholson volunteered the information that an unnamed player had complained that Mickelson was leaving spike marks on the damp greens and had asked to have his shoes inspected. The spikes had been checked by a member of the rules committee and found to be in compliance.

"(Mickelson) very generously, as you know he would, said he would change them when he got in if there was a problem," said Nicholson, who added: "There wasn't."

This was interesting, but hardly stop-the-presses stuff. Then about an hour later Reinman, distributed a statement with Mickelson's version of the afternoon's events.

Mickelson not only identified Singh as the player who had accused him of doing the elephant walk all over the Augusta National greens wearing possibly illegal footwear, but volunteered details of the subsequent confrontation in the Champions locker-room, which had been inspired when he heard Singh mouthing off to another former Masters winner.

"On the 13th hole, two officials approached me at two different times," said Mickelson in his version of the events.

"They were sent by Vijay to check my spikes, because he felt they were unduly damaging the greens. If that is the case, I am very apologetic and will make every effort to tap down what spike marks I make in the future.

"However," continued Lefty, "I was extremely distracted and would have appreciated if it would have been handled differently or after the round."

Mickelson said that after he heard Singh complaining in the locker-room, "I confronted him. He expressed his concerns. I expressed my disappointment with the way it was handled. I believe everything is fine now."

All over the press room, early copy was quickly shredded, and the war of words between two members of the Fab Four became the most significant story emanating from Augusta that day.

And as the field completed its second round on Saturday morning, all eyes were on the scoreboard. Dozens of reporters were literally praying for a convergence of scorecards that would pair the two combatants in that afternoon's play.

Alas, the dream match-up didn't come until Sunday, by which time most eyes had been diverted to the dramatic Tiger Woods-Chris DiMarco battle.

While no one who's ever played on a spiked-up green would have been entirely dismissive of Singh's complaint, there's no question that in this instance most of the sympathy lay with Mickelson.

Even those journalists who have decided to forgive the Fijian his past disgraces haven't forgiven Singh's persistently churlish attitude toward the press.

In the age of soft spikes, fewer than 30 per cent of the tour pros wear metal spikes these days, although the wet conditions which obtained over the first two days may have swelled that number. Tour pros are allowed to wear spikes, but limited to 8mm. Mickelson's were 6mm.

Singh, if he was truly bothered, had ample opportunities to discreetly say something to Mickelson over the course of two days, and that he waited until a critical moment to sic the rules committee on Lefty smacked of gamesmanship.

It also occurred to me that at least one other option had been available.

When similarly damp conditions hit the 1996 Irish Open at Druids Glen, Pat Ruddy, who had designed the course, approached European Tour officials with a simple remedy. Since Ruddy reckoned that it would be a downright shame for the championship to turn on a missed putt deflected by a spike mark, he suggested that after each group putted out, the grounds crew make emergency repairs to any spike marks left on the green. The advice was taken and there were no complaints.

By the time they were paired for Sunday's final round, Mickelson and Singh were out of contention and battling for third place at best, but they still drew a substantial gallery, at least a few of whom were hoping for some fireworks.

The pairing of the defending Masters champion and the world's number one-ranked golfer (for a few more hours, anyway) was the first time this year members of the Fab Four had been paired in a final round, and the memory of Friday's confrontation - Lefty's word, not mine - was still fresh in the memory of everyone save Mickelson and, apparently, Singh.

When the pair hit the fairways together on Sunday, a uniformed security guard told the Augusta Chronicle, "Everybody came here wanting to see a little golf and a little something else," but the "something" else never materialised. Mickelson and Singh are mature enough to realise little would be served by prolonging the feud, and they even attempted to make nice as they marched up the final fairway.

Fair enough, but then after signing his scorecard, Mickelson not only attempted to revise history but to place the blame squarely on the press for reporting it.

On his way from the 18th green to the Butler Cabin to present a green jacket to the winner of the 69th Masters, the winner of the 68th paused to chat with a CBS reporter, who asked him whether any residual bad blood from Friday's confrontation in the locker-room had spilled over into his final-round mano-a-mano duel with Singh.

"There was nothing there," Mickelson smiled disarmingly. "I don't know where you guys come up with this stuff. We had a great day."

Now, it's one thing to downplay the controversy, another entirely to pretend that it was a fiction cooked up by an irresponsible media.

As we have seen, it's not difficult to figure out where we guys came up with "this stuff". While the media might have been willing (and even grateful) accomplices, nobody made "this stuff" up. Mickelson's fingerprints were all over it, and his lame attempt to distance himself from it was nothing short of disgraceful.

Simply put, you can't have it both ways.