Two Sundays ago, I watched in disbelief when a 59-year-old man played 71 holes of golf better than any other player in the world, only to strike an eight iron from 190 yards away a bit too hard on the last hole.

We all know Tom Watson’s eight-iron over the green led to a bogey at the last hole and essentially laid his fate to lose to Stewart Cink in a four-hole playoff.

The world was teased all week, watching this legend navigate masterful course management.

Watson was surely to win!

My stomach fell to my knees when Stewart made the winning putt and raised his hands like a fighter that just won his first belt.

But there’s more to the end than just Tom losing the Open.

Tom never changed his demeanor, or his modest smile.

On the last nine of the tournament, Watson hit an errant tee shot that struck a patron in the back.

Watson’s focus clearly went from the tournament to the well being of a human being who apparently was shook up by his wayward drive.

Mr. Watson, on national television, reached into his bag, signed a golf ball, shook the woman’s hand and apologized for striking her.

First of all, this is the risk you take as a spectator and, secondly, ask yourself could you have shifted your thoughts over from trying to make perhaps the most incredible story in sports to showing unprecedented humanity?

When Mr. Watson was leaving the hotel, several media cameras were on “the Champ.”

He exited like a fighter who had just fought his last title fight.

He looked tired.

He looked beaten, but what happened during that exit will never leave me.

Several fans were lined up on both sides of the pathway asking for autographs from Tom.

Tom took the time to sign every cap, every ball, every program, even a shirt, and he did with sincerity.

The last autograph he signed was a young boy’s hat.

As Tom opened the car door, he stopped, signed his name on the boy’s cap, patted him on the head, and said thanks.

It was at that moment, I felt like crying.

To watch a man who showed unbridled courage and integrity all week long, only to lose by firing an eight iron just a bit too long on the 72nd-hole of the British Open just isn’t fair.

I couldn’t imagine what was going through Stewart Cink’s mind as he played Tom in the playoff.

As anyone, Stewart wanted to win for himself, and I am happy for Stewart, just wishing it wasn’t against Tom.

In the movie “Vision Quest,” Matthew Modine plays a high school wrestler who wants to wrestle the best wrestler in the state.

Toward the end of the movie, before the big match, Matt visits a friend who has taken the night off from work to watch the match.

Matt asks why he took the night off since “it’s only six minutes.”

His friend begins telling Matt a story about one day when he was watching soccer on TV and Pele was playing.

All of a sudden, Pele jumps into the air and pops the ball over his head and backwards (bicycle kick) and scores a goal.

Crying, he then explains that watching Pele, a human being, a species of which he belongs to, do such a thing with a soccer ball lifted himself to a better place for a moment.

After a moment, his friend looked at Matt and said, “It’s not the six minutes. It’s what happens in those six minutes.”

Think about it.

Did Tom take us to a better place, if only for a moment?

Did Tom make us all proud?

Did Tom show the world that sometimes when you lose, you win?

Ask yourself.

Chris Tuohey is general manager of Sand Creek Station Golf Course in Newton.