Golf is all about numbers. The fewer shots you take the greater the chance of success. Back in April, for the year's first major, Tiger Woods was more aware than anyone of the numbers game. On the forecourt of a garage on Washington Road, across from the Magnolia Lane entrance to Augusta National, a sculpture of our times - constructed completely with Coca Cola cans, and the central message of "Slam It, Tiger" - captured the sense of history that beckoned the world's number one player.
The great debate in the days running up to the tournament was whether a Woods win would constitute a Grand Slam, traditionally accepted as winning all four majors in the one calendar year. Hootie Johnson, the chairman of Augusta National, remarked: "I don't know if that's a Grand Slam, should he win, but it is something special."
Darren Clarke insisted: "I think if Tiger wins this week and holds all four, he can decide whatever he wants to decide."
By Sunday evening, with Woods once again donning the green jacket as champion, history had indeed been made. It may not have been the real Grand Slam, but Woods had completed what became known as the "Tiger Slam", the greatest feat achieved by any modern-day golfer. In the space of 294 days, Woods had won all four majors and accomplished something that had eluded Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer. All the legends.
Destiny's child had delivered, and no one could begrudge him his sweet success.
In 1930 Bobby Jones achieved what was then considered the Grand Slam when winning the US Open, US Amateur, British Open and British Amateur championships - an undisputed feat - but, as golf changed over the years and money talked, the four professional majors became the new benchmark.
And, perhaps fittingly, it was the Masters tournament created by Jones in 1934 that became the final part of Woods' winning run.
Upon winning, Woods left it to others to decide if the win constituted the real thing. "It will probably go down as one of the top moments in our sport," Woods said. When asked if it was a Grand Slam, Woods replied: "I don't think it is right for me to comment on that." The semantics, though, indicated that Woods's wonderful feat was a Grand Slam of sorts, the so-called Tiger Slam, but that it wasn't the Grand Slam that really counted.
Still, his second US Masters win brought Woods' career majors tally up to six - the fastest player in the game's history to win six majors, beating Nicklaus by two months and 10 days - and, incredibly, he was a combined 65-under par for the four major wins in succession that commenced with the US Open in Pebble Beach the previous June, then took him to a British Open win at St Andrews and a play-off success over Bob May in the US PGA at Valhalla before completing the sequence at Augusta.
When Woods had completed his career Grand Slam by winning the British Open in St Andrews, his fellow-American Mark Calcavecchia had referred to him as the "chosen one". When he completed the Tiger Slam, Calcavecchia remarked: "He's not like anyone we've seen before in the game."
What made the win memorable, however, was that Woods did it on the back nine of the final round with two of the sport's top players, Phil Mickelson and David Duval, both seeking a first major, making moves and then succumbing to the pressure in a quite compelling few hours of sport at its most intense.
The biggest challenge to Woods came from Duval, who had six birdies in the opening eight holes and, in fact, held the lead thanks to a two-putt birdie on the eighth. When it mattered though, as if the demons couldn't be banished on the big occasion, Duval's putter let him down.
Duval's quest died effectively when he overshot the 16th green and with his putter suddenly going cold he had a bogey - as well as missing three birdie putts on three of the five finishing holes. On the 17th, Duval watched in horror as a 12-footer for birdie failed to drop and then a five-footer for birdie on the last also refused to find the tin cup. "I've been here before, huh?" said Duval, of his runners-up position.
Likewise, Mickelson faltered coming down the stretch, and the 16th again proved to be Woods' accomplice.
Having shared the lead twice early in the final, Mickelson was undone by a series of missed short putts, most cruelly on the sixth where he missed from inside two feet, but most vividly on the 16th where his tee-shot finished on the top tier and, putting almost along the ridge, the ball slipped by the hole. The result was a three-putt bogey, and Mickelson had the look of a man who couldn't comprehend what on earth was happening.
So it was that Woods' 18-foot birdie putt on the last green gave him a final round score of 68 for a 72-hole total of 272 and a two-shot margin over Duval, with Mickelson a shot further back. He retreated to the side of the green and covered his face with his hat to cover his tears. Woods had scaled a height never previously achieved by any professional golfer.
Was it a Grand Slam? The solution of calling it a "Tiger Slam" was probably acceptable - but one thing was equally certain.
In winning the four successive majors, Woods had performed brilliantly under pressure on each occasion: he won by a record 15 shots in the US Open, by eight strokes in St Andrews and in a tense play-off in Valhalla. Fittingly, the journey was completed on the course where Bobby Jones is considered a legend.
Although the sequence was broken in the US Open, and Woods proved that he was merely human after all, he was still the dominant figure of 2001, winning five tournaments on the US Tour.