They came, two by two, from all parts of the island to see Tadd Fujikawa. Some held hands, others read programs, but their single destination was Waialae.

Many were here two years ago when Fujikawa woke up the geckos with a stirring performance that had everyone straining the ropes to see the local boy born too soon. Not only was he the youngest to make the cut in 50 years, his Sunday run that ended with a tie for 20th was the talk of golf for months. His story was known from Portland, Ore., to Portland, Maine, for that matter.

And now they were back.

Bringing cousins and uncles and brothers and mothers, some who had never seen a PGA Tour event up close and personal, just to be a part of something special. Did they believe he could win, this pint-sized kid with the purebred heart? Had he really been tied for the lead after shooting the best round of the tournament?

The answer was yes on both counts. And if you were one of the fortunate ones standing at that first tee at 12:52 p.m. on Sunday, you felt all that hope in the silence before he struck his drive just enough left to give you a clue as to what was coming next. It wouldn't be good as Fujikawa exited the tee box to roars usually reserved for the man they call the Tiger.

Those down at the 17th green on Saturday said they needed earplugs after Fujikawa dropped to 7 under for his round with a birdie from 5 feet. The gallery that day was a record-setter for the Sony Open in Hawaii, only to have that mark shattered again on Sunday. They're still counting ticket stubs, one by one.

As is often the case in real-life golf, when you shoot a 62 one day, statistical probabilities set in like bottom-line numbers in December. Anybody who has swung a stick and kept score can't understand how they hit it so well one day and so poorly the next. If somebody figured that one out, we'd all be Tiger Woods.

But they haven't, they won't. It's just the way it is on a golf course. Good one day, not so good the next. Fujikawa was stuck in this reality early on. He kept trying to find some momentum, but he'd used it all up on Saturday, shooting up the leaderboard like Danica Patrick roaring into the lead at Indy that year.

The gas ran out too soon.

FUJIKAWA WAS JUST off the back edge of the green in two at the par-5 ninth; next up Bermuda flyer. He looked at caddie Shakil Ahmed, a millionaire member providing Bagger Vance advice.

“;If I get it down there, it's going to release, right?”; Fujikawa asked of his eagle attempt. His caddie readily agreed. Fujikawa struck it just so, the ball released right toward the cup steady and true. Both golfer and caddie believed an eagle was a possibility, only to feel the collective groan of those stacked 10-deep around the ninth green.

It pulled up just short.

He settled for a tap-in birdie to complete a round of nine consecutive 4s. Heading to the back side, he was 1 over for the day and would catch no one atop the leaderboard. Playing partner Nathan Green did little to keep the air in the bag. His on-again, off-again love affair with Bermuda greens was definitely off, only adding to the reality of the impending 73.

As the people left late Sunday afternoon, it felt like the parking lot after a day at the county fair. Folks were tired, but happy for the experience. Young and old, from all walks of life, had found something, someone to believe in. He didn't win, but he didn't have to for these fans and their love of the game.

Only Tiger can shoot back-to-back 62s. And that's what Fujikawa would have needed to beat Zach Johnson by one.

It didn't happen. Perhaps, it wasn't supposed to. Many who experience success too soon flame out. For those who can overcome disappointment, like not getting a sponsor's exemption and then learning from it, are the ones like Zach Johnson, holding a trophy high 14 years after their 18th birthday.