The fearless find their heart, and their reward is validation.

Mickelson's prize Sunday was a green jacket that was a perfect fit, with the monkey no longer on his back. He wore well his new title of Best Golfer To Finally Win A Major.

Gravity could barely contain Mickelson after his 15-foot birdie putt on No. 18 caught just enough of the left side of the cup. The weight of failed expectations finally alleviated, Mickelson exhaled a sigh of relief that was felt nationwide.

He deserved this moment. Amid a flurry of incredible shotmaking on the second nine, Mickelson never relented, shooting 5-under par for the final seven holes.

Two fabulous hours finally silenced 10 years of criticism and skepticism regarding his toughness and decision-making.

- Drew Sharp,

Detroit Free Press

In the sweet Georgia dusk, with the gallery in full throat and rising in expectation, a good and deserving man found redemption Sunday.

He found it on the end of a slick and slippery downhill putt on the rocket-fast 18th green at Augusta National. He found it when the ball he had struck so boldly and so confidently licked its way around the cup and curled in.

A birdie 3.

To win the Masters.

With it, like dawn dew burning away, that galling phrase that has been attached to his name for what must have felt like forever evaporated.

So then, never again. No, sir. Never, ever, again must Phil Mickelson (Stats | Bio) hear himself described as "best player never to win a major." No, sir. Take that slur and stuff it in your shag bag.

Sometimes, there really is justice.

Sometimes, when sports are at their best, a man who has kept losing to someone else's heroics, or drowning in his own juices, gets to leap toward heaven and dance the dance of joy, hug his wife and then, one by one, his three children, while the rest of us look on and think: Yes. This is right. Yes.

- Bill Lyon,

The Philadelphia Inquirer

Oh, so this is why he waited so long. Now we know.

Now we know why he put himself and us through the torture of 42 straight pro majors without a victory.

Phil Mickelson (Stats | Bio) waited this long on the outside chance a day like Sunday might come ambling along. An uneventful victory wouldn't do. No. A three-stroke victory at the Masters wouldn't cut it. Too pedestrian. A win over one of those nameless, faceless pros? Snore.

This called for tension bordering on hyperventilation. This called for a high-rise window-washer's nerve and a surgeon's touch. This called for glory, a word so watered down from overuse it drips.

This was glorious.

When the winning putt rolled in on 18 - when it hugged the left side of the cup, put on its right turn signal and spilled in for a birdie - Mickelson jumped in equal parts celebration and disbelief.

As vertical leaps go, it was a disappointment. He wouldn't have been able to touch the net on a basketball hoop.

As leaps of joy go, it will be a long time before anyone gets that high.

When he reached the scorer's shed off the 18th green, he picked up his 2-year-old daughter, Sophia. "Daddy won," he said. "Can you believe it?"

It didn't look like the kid believed it, and frankly, the rest of us were having a hard time buying it, too.

- Rick Morrissey,

Chicago Tribune