So that I don’t put you to sleep with the backstory, here’s what you need to know:

• I’ve been a HUGE fan of the band Caedmon’s Call since 1997.
• I started a website for them in 2001 that became popular with their fans and the band took notice.
• I’ve seen them in concert over 30 times and have gotten to know some of the guys fairly well.

In the fall of 2003 Erica and I road-tripped down to Maryland to see the band play, and before the show Cliff Young (the lead singer of the band) pulled me aside and asked me if I’d be interested in going to Ecuador with the band. I was interested of course, and in April 2004 I flew to Ecuador with the band on a Compassion International trip. The band was in the process of recording their next album, Share The Well, and I had a blast seeing South America for the first time and hanging out with my favorite band. The trip was as surreal as you’d think it would be for a wide-eyed, psycho fanboy like me.

The last day of our trip was Sunday, April 11. After attending a church service in Quito, we were treated to an amazing steak and shrimp barbecue by a local family. Unfortunately for me, my stomach had been queasy all morning and I wasn’t able to eat. After lunch I found a couch and a television in one of their upstairs rooms and flipped on the TV, surprised to see that the Masters was on. Cliff and I had been following the scores in the paper each morning, but I was so wrapped up with what was going on with the band, the sports world really wasn’t on my radar screen.

Cliff eventually found me upstairs and we watched the entire back nine in anticipation as Phil Mickelson, the lovable loser, tried desperately to best the 8-under that Ernie Els had posted a few groups ahead of him. At that point Mickelson had never won a major, and folks were wondering if he ever would. Mickelson birdied #16 to tie Els at 8-under and hit the green with his second shot on #18, giving himself an 18-foot putt for his first Major title. Like most of you who were watching at that moment, Cliff and I were on the edge of our seats as he lined up the putt. Though neither of us were huge Mickelson fans, we both wanted to see the putt drop. When the ball disappeared into the hole, we both jumped off the couch (higher than Mickelson did) and exchanged a nice white guy high five.

Here’s the putt again:

It was one of those sports moments that you are happy to experience with someone else, rather than by yourself. And it will always be special to me because it was an amazing ending to an awesome week.

(and if you’re interested, you can read my 5-day journal from the trip over at my blog.)