Five years ago this week, Hideki Matsuyama’s win at Augusta National wrapped up with little drama. The 29-year-old star arrived at the 18th hole with a two-shot lead and finished with a two-putt bogey. Becoming Japan’s first-ever men’s major golf champion, Matsuyama pulled off his hat, shared a few embraces, and raised his hands, thanking the Augusta patrons.
That’s how the 2021 Masters ended.
Until [CBS cameraman] Erik Leidal saw something out of the corner of his eye.
[. . . ]
When the 2021 tournament concluded, so, in theory, did Leidal’s workday. As Matsuyama exhaled and exited the 18th green, walking through a tunnel of bodies tosign his card and take a seat in Butler Cabin, the scene shifted with him. All that was left from Leidal’s perch behind 18 was maybe some outgoing shots of long shadowscasting goodbyes across Augusta — b-roll to accompany piano keys in the day’s closing montage. Really, Leidal could’ve started shutting things down.
A few minutes passed. A few more. An eternity in any broadcast. Leidal kept filming, just in case.
No one remained around 18. No other video cameras. No photographers. Patrons packed their folding chairs, unknowingly clearing the stage, like the world’s highest-priced stagehands. “And that,” Leidal says, “is when [Matsuyama's caddie and longtime friend] Shota Hayafuji appeared.”
[. . . ]
Pausing, spontaneously, in what he thought was a private moment, Hayafuji took one step back, turned to the course before him, removed his hat, and bowed [to the 18th green].
[. . . ]
You know what followed because it’s impossible not to [. . .] All at once, the moment was shared so widely, and spread so quickly, and universally liked by so many, that it morphed not only into Masters iconography, but a portrait open to broader interpretation — culturally, socially, emotionally. What was it about the bow? Why did I love it? Why did you love it? Why did your neighbor share it on Facebook? Why did your brother post a comment on Instagram? Why did such a simple gesture trigger a collective, spontaneous head-nod across the Western golf world? Why did this moment from a mostly unknown caddie immediately generate what Jonah Berger, a bestselling author of multiple books studying social influences and behavioral science, calls “social currency;” that is — the phenomenon of people believing they have to join in or share in a collective episode not only because they enjoyed it, but because it makes them personally look better to be part of it.
[. . .]
In Japanese culture, the meaning of a bow can take on many forms. Hello. Goodbye. A sign of respect. An apology. An acknowledgment of status. In sports, from sumo to soccer to baseball, Japanese teams bow to the field of play, to opponents, to coaches, to officials, to fans. A bow is, in other words, completely and entirely ordinary.
“There are elements of purity, humility and appreciation all condensed into this small action of bowing,” says Shinobu Kitayama, a University of Michigan psychology professor. “So there was nothing surprising from a Japanese perspective about seeing this caddie bow.”
[. . .]
“It’s very interesting that it conveyed some deep meaning to many individuals who do not share this cultural tradition,” [Kitayama] said. “There’s something universal going on here, I think.”
Read the complete article at New York Times' The Athletic
