From giving lessons to getting a hug from Rory

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Not too long ago Michael Block was giving lessons. On Sunday afternoon, Rory McIlroy was giving Block hugs. Only in golf?  Probably.

Block is a golf professional, as opposed to being a professional golfer.

One makes club members and public course players do what’s possible, to enjoy the sport. The other may make millions, as did Brooks Koepka,  Sunday at Oak Hill Country Club in upstate New York.

Sometimes the twain do meet.

Sometimes we end up with a story that seems more fantasy than is imaginable. That’s what happened for Block. And for golf.

Those guys and ladies who give lessons, whether at some fancy club or resort or a “stop-and-sock” driving range at the muni, very much can play the game.

Perhaps not as well as Arnie, Jack, or Tiger — or Brooks Koepka, who with the victory at Oak Hill now has five major titles — but better than millions of others. 

Some, such as Block, have tried to qualify for one of the pro tours. Others, maybe an ex-caddy, were content to remain teachers.

Block has been around. He’s 46, has a family, grew up in St. Louis, and played college golf at Mississippi State and Missouri. Later on, he came west and had work as an assistant at Palm Desert for a couple of years, then became head pro at Trabuco Golf Club in Orange County, where he took care of the normal responsibilities, including lessons at $150 each.

Yet, he never gave up the dream, and he entered the PGA Tour qualifying school. He reached the second stage, which is good although not quite good enough. Still, there were tournaments to enter and succeed. He’s the reigning PGA of America Professional Player of the Year.

Every year players such as Block get into the PGA Championship. Usually, they miss the cut. Not only did Block make the cut, but he also made a splash. More than that he made himself weep when introduced on TV and made America cheer.

Down the stretch Block not only made a hole-in-one, but he made par-saving putts, long ones, the final two holes which enabled him to tie for 5 and earn an automatic place in next year’s PGA Championship in Louisville.

And not exactly incidental, Block, with a final-round even-par 70 and a four-day total of one-over 281, won $288,000.

Yes, the world and finances and inflation and everything are different now, but in his entire career, Ben Hogan won just $230,000.

As they say, timing is everything.

Block came along at the right time, helping create the right tale, the underdog who catches fire and because it’s on ESPN and CBS on a weekend, it keeps us tuned in and emotionally involved.

That Block, by luck of the draw, had the wonderfully popular McIlroy paired as his playing partner for the final round and it was almost surrealistic. After the last putts at 18, Rory wrapped his arms around Block.

He seemed as thrilled as everyone. And why wouldn’t he be?

After PGA, Thomas elated, Tiger sore

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On a Sunday to remember, a young man who had referred to himself as an underachiever came from seven shots behind to win a major golf tournament.

His golfing future seems secure.

On a Saturday to forget, a not-so-young man who often had expressed confidence in himself was hurting physically and mentally and withdrew from this one.

His golfing future seemed questionable.

Justin Thomas at last accomplished what he had set out to do, and in such a momentous way, meeting expectations and becoming one of the game’s elite with a victory in the 104th PGA Championship at Southern Hills in Tulsa.

That was some 24 hours after the player recognized as the finest of the era, Tiger Woods, proved all too human in attempting to repeat his surprising post-accident success of the Masters.

Aching and frustrated, Woods shot a 9-over 79 Saturday, subsequently dropping out of a major as a pro for the first time in his career.

“Well, I’m sore,” he said in explanation. Which might have been predictable. Not that very much is with Woods from this moment.

Tiger always told us he never entered an event unless he thought he could win — and of course he did win so frequently, 82 times, including the 15 majors.

One of those was the PGA at Southern Hills back in 2007, when Woods was healthy enough and younger. Now he is 46 and, after the March 2021 car accident that nearly cost him his right leg, is in need of continuing treatment.

Not many believed Woods would play the Masters in April. He not only played, he made the cut. A couple days after the first round, even he was unsure about making the PGA.

Again he made the cut in a major, but his game became a problem after his body became a problem.

After his 4-over 74 on day one, there was a brief return to the Tiger of the past, a 1-under 59. Then the weather turned nasty.

In the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical Oklahoma, the wind “comes sweeping down the plain.” In the PGA, it swept over fairways and greens, chilling and challenging.

Woods wasn’t the only one affected — Thomas shot 74 Saturday, and 67 in each the other three rounds in regulation — but Woods was the only one who had been undergoing daily therapy.

All of a sudden, that romp (plod?) to a win in the 100-degree heat of the 2007 PGA (the tournament was held in August that year) was impossibly distant.

He alluded to himself Friday after the round as “Humpty Dumpty,” his team of doctors and therapists rebuilding him each night. Yet ever the strong-willed individual, he refused to blame his play Saturday on finishing late Friday and having no time to recover.

“It’s not bad,” he had insisted. “I just didn’t play well. I didn’t hit the ball very well and didn’t get off to the start I needed. I thought I hit a good tee shot down 2 and ended up in the water and never got any momentum. I didn’t hit many good shots and consequently ended up with a pretty high score.”

His playing partner, Shaun Norris of South Africa, said of Tiger, “You feel so so sorry for him having to go through this. He’s swinging nicely. I think he’ll be back.”

Maybe not for the U.S. Open in June at The Country Club outside Boston but probably for the British Open at St. Andrews in July.

Thomas will be at every major. He’s a two-time PGA champ. Maybe not Tiger Woods, but not bad for a former underachiever.

Justin Thomas: Good words, great shots

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TULSA, Okla. — One minute Justin Thomas is knocking himself: “I’ve performed very poorly in the majors.” The next, he’s knocking concession prices at the current major, the PGA Championship.

And then, he’s knocking down the flagsticks at the PGA Championship.

He’s exactly what golf needs, someone just enough out of control with his comments but for the most part in full control of his shots.

The self-criticism was made to Canadian journalist Mike Hall in April. The gripe was about the cost of beer at Southern Hills Country Club — $18 for a can of Michelob.

“Yeah, very pleased,” said Thomas of his play on Friday. “I played really, really well today. The conditions were obviously very difficult. I stayed very patient, tried to get in my own little world and get in a zone and just tried to execute each shot the best I could . . . and am glad to have a good round to show for it.”

That’s the sort of happy talk the people promoting the sport and dispensing clubs and balls like to hear and read.

But it’s not the stuff that captures attention. Bad news sells, and as you may have noticed from the candid observations from Thomas, other than his brilliant two rounds, the news was bad.

The only things that have have that spoiled Thomas’ career were expectations, his and ours.

Thomas, 27, has been blessed and cursed. He is the son and grandson of teaching pros. He also is a longtime pal of Jordan Spieth.

Jordan has his own troubles, but they exist because he doesn’t win everything, and never mind the Masters., U.S. Open and British Open.

That both Thomas and Spieth are outspoken is a joy for the media. Someone who finds little joy in the game described golf as nothing more than hitting a ball with a stick, all alone (other than galleries) in a meadow.

Other than for the purists — “Did you see how he opened his stance?” — controversy is as necessary as competition. Unless someone shoots 59. Even non-golfers would appreciate that — or is named Tiger Woods.

So Thomas’ words about himself, underachieving, or about the price of concessions at Southern Hills are not unworthy. No failing. No ripoffs.

What’s wrong with Thomas’ game?  At the moment, nothing. Asked if perhaps he put too much pressure on himself to succeed, he said, “I don't know. It's golf, so it's pretty hard sometimes.

“I mean, I like this golf course. I feel like I'm playing well. We're halfway through so it's still a long way from home, but I'm very, very pleased with where everything is at and the frame of mind and state of mind that I'm in.”

State of mind would apply to everything, everywhere. When things go well, you’re delighted. When they don’t, you tell people you should be doing better.

“You can't force things, so I'm not sure,” he said. “I've never played this golf course in competitive rounds other than these last two days, so I'm probably not the best person to ask.

“It was long enough ago that I don't necessarily remember watching to know what happened (at the PGA in 2007). I know Tiger won here, and that guy was pretty good with the lead, so I think he's kind of an outlier.”

That’s an interesting term from any golfer, underachiever or not.

Daly and Tiger: At PGA, the past was present

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TULSA, Okla. — One of the best things about golf is you never get old. We’re speaking virtually, of course. Life is all about playing hide-and-seek with Father Time.

But in what other sport does a 50-year-old like Phil Mickelson win one of the big events, or a 46-year-old like Tiger Woods make a comeback?

Some of the people we used to watch, we’re still watching. Such as John Daly, who because he once won the event and is a lifetime invitee not only is in this 104th PGA Championship but, for a few minutes in Thursday’s opening round, was in the lead.

That’s because he was in the opening threesome and, like those “grip it and rip it” days of yore, birdied the first and fifth holes.

You knew it wasn’t going to last, and it didn’t. In a stretch of three holes, he tumbled from seventh to 51st, eventually sinking into the 70s after a 2-over-par 72.

That was two strokes better than Woods, who after his impressive return from the near-fatal car accident to make the cut in last month’s Masters couldn’t regain that bit of magic.

At least Tiger, who deserves the listing professional as well as a major champion, was willing to explain what went wrong: the irons were off target.

At the end of his round, the 56-year-old Daly waved off would-be interviewers and silently slipped away.

Which doesn’t make sense when you’re trying to peddle various endorsed products, if not necessarily yourself.

Golf, as in most every sporting activity from checkers to jump rope, has chosen to associate with some sort of gambling operation. According to a story in USA Today, somebody made a bet on Daly that would pay off $100,000 if John looked great with 17 holes to go.

How John looks physically is another issue. After starting cancer treatments, he stopped shaving or visiting a bar. His flowing all-white beard and locks make him seem like a character in an old western movie, rather than a two-time major champion.

Seeing Daly playing the game brought him to our attention. He only got into the 1991 PGA when someone dropped out, the final qualifier — and he won.

The victory transcended golf. He was on TV. He was at major league stadiums hitting tee shots into the great unknown.

And then Daly’s life, a mixture of booze, bogeys and domestic battles, came apart. Then conveniently, perhaps both for golf and for Daly, along came Tiger.

That Woods and Daly after their quite different setbacks were able to play at Southern Hills is, even ignoring the wager and other incidentals, a show of persistence. They both have endured pain, if of different types.

For Tiger there’s the ongoing, if impossible, attempt to duplicate the brilliance to which we had grown accustomed.

“I did not hit a lot of good iron shots,” Woods said of his Thursday round. “I drove it well, but my iron shots were not very good. I didn't get the ball very close. I got off to a great start and didn't keep it going. I really didn't give myself any looks for birdie.

“I was struggling trying to get the ball on the green, and I missed quite a few iron shots both ways. It was a frustrating day.”

Asked about his condition, Woods said, “Yeah, my leg is not feeling as good as I would like it to be. We'll start the recovery process and get after (Friday).”

Thanks, Tiger. Wish John was just as communicative.

Golf, politics and money: a PGA without Phil

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TULSA, Okla. — How the 104th PGA Championship got here is a tale of golf, politics and money. And why Phil Mickelson, who a year ago became the oldest man to win the tournament — and thus the oldest to win a major — isn’t here. Yes, a tale of golf, politics and money.

This PGA was going to be played in New Jersey, considerably east of Oklahoma. On a course owned by a man named Donald Trump, who at the time was president of the United States of America.

But then came the election, and Trump’s refusal to adhere to the law, which he had pledged to uphold. And when Trump not only did nothing to quell the Capitol — whatever, uprising, riot, insurrection — but actually encouraged it, the good people of the PGA made the move to Southern Hills.

Whether Mickelson is making any moves — he hasn’t played competitively since March — remains a mystery. The PGA wanted him here. After all, how many times do you have a 51-year-old defending champion? (Answer: never.) But Phil didn’t come out of his hiding place, if that be the proper term.

We’ll know more about Mickelson when a book by Alan Shipnuck comes out in a matter of days. Already we found out from Shipnuck’s teasing emails that Mickelson lost so much money gambling, in excess of $40 million, he was forced to join forces with rich Saudi oil sheiks, whom he refers to as murderers and mother-bleepers, to bail him out.

Shipnuck has brought in Michael Bamberger, a former colleague at Sports Illustrated, as part of a writing project called “Fire Pit Collective,” and Bamberger did much of the research on Trump’s course in Bedminster, N.J.

Jack Nicklaus, who built courses for Trump and many others, and not incidentally won 18 majors, called the decision to take the PGA away from Trump ”cancel culture,” yet the PGA was thinking of it not so much of a cancellation as adaptive. It wanted a sporting event, not chaos.

In the periphery is Greg Norman, who, because all of golf is one unhappy family, joined the Saudis (and their finances) to support his own interests against the PGA Tour. Norman was no minimal figure in Mickelson’s dealings, Phil wedging his own struggle against the Tour.

When he appeared for a media interview on Monday, Tiger Woods, not surprisingly, was asked about Mickelson’s situation.

“It's always disappointing when the defending champion is not here,” said Woods. “Phil has said some things that I think a lot of us who are committed to the Tour, and committed to the legacy of the Tour, have pushed back against, and he's taken some personal time, and we all understand that.

“But I think that some of his views on how the tour could be run, should be run, has been a lot of disagreement there. But as we all know, as a professional, we miss him being out here.”

And then we swing back to money, because the word professional is in the label; the better the entry list, the better the TV ratings and eventually the better the payoffs. 

“I mean, he's a big draw for the game of golf,” said Woods. ”He's just taking his time, and we all wish him the best when he comes back. Obviously we're going to have a difference of opinions, how he sees the Tour, and we'll go from there.”

It’s hard to say where golf is going, but we know where it went, from a course owned by a former U.S. president to one in Oklahoma, hoping to escape as much controversy as possible.

Fore!

For Tiger, after 'Everest' it's the Hills

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TULSA, Okla. — So here at a golf course called Southern Hills, Tiger Woods reflected on making a successful figurative ascent of a more testing piece of property, Augusta National, where stunningly a month ago he made it through four rounds of the Masters.

The right leg severely damaged in the 2021 car accident was swollen and painful the day after the Masters. But following treatment, Woods said, “We kept going from there. Let's go. Figured you climbed Everest. That’s the steepest course you’re going to play.

“You climbed it. It gets flatter and better.”

And so Woods, who never ignored a challenge, will enter the 104th PGA Championship, the second major of the year, adding a personality and some memories at a place where in 2007 he added to his total of major wins, now at 15.

Before the Masters in April, the question was whether Woods, now 46 and having undergone months of rehabilitation and therapy, could make it walking Augusta. He — and we — learned.

We also learned once again that Woods, healthy or ailing, is not going to forego any opportunity to enter a major championship, those events that Jack Nicklaus established as a standard of greatness. Jack won 18 before retiring.

Golf and tennis are sports of individuality and reputation. We watch the players we know, Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, Serena Williams. Nicklaus, even the missing man, Phil Mickelson, and how they performed in the majors, the grand slams. That’s how you add to your legacy. To your own satisfaction.

Naturally Woods was asked how he felt immediately after the Masters.

“It was was hurting,” he admitted, “but I pushed through it. It was more in the mind than body. I said, I've won with a broken leg before (at Torrey Pines in the 2008 U.S. Open). Keep on going out there, keep pushing. I know how to play the golf course. If I can just putt well, you never know. Unfortunately Saturday, I think I had like 15 three-putts.

“The thing that I was frustrated with is it deteriorated as the week went on. I got more and more tired and more fatigued. I didn't have the endurance that I wanted. I mean, I shouldn't expect it because I didn't earn it.” 

We’re all competing against Father Time. It’s been 15 long years since his triumph at Southern Hills.

The issue doesn’t have to do with that misunderstood line about not going home again. We, including Tiger Woods, might return to the place we knew, but if it still is the same — and Southern Hills has been altered — the ones who come here to play or watch are changed.

His best days are in that infamous rearview mirror, yet that doesn’t mean there aren’t some fine ones up ahead. He has designed a golf course at Pebble Beach. He has created an academy to assist and encourage young people with their education.

But most of all, Woods is a golfer.

A golfer who has survived and will never concede.

A golfer who during the media session on Tuesday that lasted a half hour was asked, “How close are you physically now to being as good as it's going to get, based on your injuries?”

A golfer who’s response might have been predictable: “It sure is a lot better than it was 12 months ago.”

Who could be disappointed in that?

This time, Phil being Phil was historic

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The phrase became as famous as the man who went about becoming infamous. “Phil being Phil,” they said to explain or justify Phil Mickelson’s personal and occasionally contentious style, on a golf course or off.

No one ever doubted Phil could play the game — he was on the cover of Golf Digest when still an amateur — and as we learned over the years, he also could talk the game.

You want an opinion, you want a bit of brilliance, or arrogance, Phil was your guy. He was fearless, driving a car — Jaime Diaz wrote about Mickelson’s hair-raising zip through traffic after a Chargers game in San Diego — or driving a dimpled ball through the trees.

But it was hard not to like Phil, even when he blew the final-hole lead in the 2006 U.S. Open at Winged Foot, throwing caution and the tournament to the wind and calling himself an idiot. Which is why it was so satisfying when Mickelson set a record for a lifetime, his and ours, becoming at 50 the oldest man to win a major, the 2021 PGA Championship at Kiawah Island.

It’s also hard not to connect Mickelson and the man who grew up maybe 45 miles from him in Southern California, Tiger Woods.

Truth tell, Phil was Tiger before Tiger, Mickelson winning a PGA tournament when still at Arizona State. Phil and Ernie Els were supposed to dominate the game. Then, boom, in the 1997 Masters, along came Woods.

Tiger is different, private until the last few years, rarely outspoken in interviews, His popularity strictly was based on the play that made him the best in the world. Phil could debate a journalist or wave at a spectator.

He had a frat boy sense of humor. When in Ireland for the Walker Cup, the amateur event between the United States and United Kingdom, Mickelson hit a ball into the gallery.

Asked after the match about walking with the spectators, he wisecracked, “I thought these Irish girls are supposed to be pretty.”

The Mickelsons are loaded with talent. Phil’s dad was such an expert skier he was considered for the U.S. Olympic Team. Phil was sharp on the slopes until breaking a leg. His sister is a golf pro.

If Phil lacked for humility, that was understandable and most times not a problem. Most times. Then there were times such as the 2018 U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills, when for some reason or another he held putting practice on the 13th green — during the third round.

He could have been disqualified but — Phil being Phil — was only penalized. Comic relief? An opportunity to take a stand against the U.S. Golf Association? Certainly an attention-grabber.

Mickelson was stricken a decade ago with a psoriatic arthritis, which is incurable. Obviously that hasn’t stopped him from playing and winning. The man is persistent and occasionally ridiculous.

There’s nothing he feels he can’t do, to a point of absurdity.

A few years back, he was 150 yards from the cup on the 18th at Torrey Pines, in the last round of what is now the Farmers Open, and told his caddy to pull the flagstick. No, the shot did not go in.

Phil will attempt almost anything. He chartered a jet daily to fly the roughly 120 miles from north of San Diego to L.A. so he could stay at home and play in the tournament at Riviera.

What he’ll try in the coming days at Torrey, where he’s played forever, is to finally win the U.S. Open, missing from his resume.

At his age and after finishing runner-up six times, the prospect is unlikely. But then again, so was winning the PGA.

Koepka seems as much a contradiction as a champion

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By Art Spander
For Maven Sports

FARMINGDALE, N.Y. — Brooks Koepka seems as much a contradiction as he is a champion, someone whose fame doesn’t seem to match his game, a golfer who has won more big events in a shorter time other than Jack Nicklaus or Tiger Woods but hasn’t connected with the people.

Read the full story here.

Copyright 2019, The Maven 

Now Tiger knows how others once felt

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By Art Spander
For Maven Sports

FARMINGDALE, N.Y. — Now he knows what it was like. Now Tiger Woods understands how the others felt when he was the man, dominating golf. Woods still can play. As we found out last month in the Masters, which he won. But it’s not like before.

Read the full story here.

Copyright 2019, The Maven 

For Tiger, was it a last hurrah or a hint of the future?

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By Art Spander

ST. LOUIS — Who knows where it goes from here? In a way, who cares? This might have been a last, wonderful hurrah for Tiger Woods, the PGA Championship in the humidity and enthusiasm of Middle America.

Or maybe it was a hint about a future that, at moments, could make us remember his past.

But it doesn’t matter. What does matter, for the game and for the golfer, is that for a week there were reminders of the way it used to be.

And a year ago, who dared imagine that would be possible? Not even Tiger.

Three weeks ago, he stirred emotions by working his way into the lead on the final day of the British Open before slipping to sixth, which was impressive, all things considered.

Then, here at Bellerive, green, lush and water-logged, so different from the links in Scotland, Woods played an even better major.

He shot 64 on Sunday, the final round of the 100th PGA Championship, and had the enormous crowd engaged and hopeful — and, of course, cheering loudly. The roar after a Tiger birdie rumbled across the fairways almost to the banks of the Mississippi.

The tournament in the end would belong to Brooks Koepka, who with a second major in a single calendar year, after the U.S. Open, and a third major overall, including consecutive Opens, right now may be the best golfer on the globe.

He has the long game and, perhaps more importantly, the short game and the poise. Koepka finished with a 4-under-par 66 for a 16-under total of 264, to win by two shots over, yes, Tiger Woods. Welcome to 2000.

Woods closed with a 6-under-par 64. He was holing putts and pumping his fist — and pumping up the fans. He dropped a long one at 18. He was a contender. He finished ahead of Adam Scott, Justin Thomas, British Open winner Francesco Molinari and Jordan Spieth, who in our tendency to exaggerate we’ve called the next Tiger Woods.

Ahead of everyone except Koepka.

But it was the former and current Tiger Woods who made this PGA thrilling. And surprising.

Woods was a question after the two back surgeries, the second to fuse a part of his spine. He needed to change his swing. He was 43, coming off months of inactivity and rehabilitation.

“At the beginning of the year, if you would say, yeah, I have a legitimate chance to win the last two major championships,” Woods conceded, “with what swing? I didn’t have a swing at the time. I had no speed. I didn’t have a short game. My putting was OK.

“But God, I hadn’t played in two years, so it’s been a hell of a process for sure.”

There’s a sporting axiom that greatness is forever. Age and injury may have an effect on performance, but a champion is always a champion. Tiger, we found out in the last few weeks, is still Tiger. In the hunt, he’s a factor.

What is different is this Tiger smiles and slaps hands with spectators, as he did walking up the ramp from the 18th green. We didn’t know if he would be back. He didn’t know. They say you don’t appreciate something until you don’t have it.

What Woods had during the PGA, especially the captivating last round, was a belief that this is where he belonged, high on the leader board, and striding purposely toward a goal that so many doubted ever would be attainable. It was fun. For him. For everyone.

“Oh, you could hear them,” Woods said of the fans. “They were loud, and they stayed around. It’s been incredible with the positiveness. They wanted to see some good golf, and we produced some good golf, I think, as a whole. The energy was incredible.”

It flowed from Brooks Koepka, from Adam Scott and most of all from Tiger Woods.

“I’m in unchartered territory,” said Tiger about his game, “because no one’s ever had a fused spine hitting it like I’m hitting it. I’m very pleased at what I’ve done so far. Going from where I’ve come to now in the last year, it’s been pretty cool.”

As they used to yell, you’re the man.

Newsday (N.Y.): Jordan Spieth remains upbeat despite making a big mistake

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By Art Spander
Special to Newsday

ST. LOUIS — He called it a perfect storm, brought about by a less than perfect golf shot.

Jordan Spieth worked a miracle to win last year’s British Open, salvaging a bogey from a driving range. Saturday in the third round of the PGA Championship, there was nothing miraculous, only disastrous.

Read the full story here.

Copyright © 2018 Newsday. All rights reserved.

Koepka still trying to prove he belongs

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By Art Spander

ST. LOUIS — Yes, Brooks Koepka has an attitude. He also has a game, and in sports — maybe in life — that’s a wicked combination. You’re determined to prove you belong. You have the skill to show that you do belong.

Koepka is a back-to-back U.S. Open champion, arguably one of the three or four best golfers in the world. But it isn’t so much what he’s done that keeps him pushing, but what was done to him.

“I can think of plenty of people along the way telling me I’d be nothing," said Koepka the other day, “working at McDonald’s, doing things like that. The whole time, you’re just trying to prove them wrong.”

Which he has done overwhelmingly.

After matching the lowest round ever at a PGA Championship, a bogey-free, 7-under-par 63 on Friday at Bellerive Country Club, Koepka is high on the leader board with half the tournament remaining.

“I’m just very much in the zone,” he said. “Very disciplined.”

And very driven, which every athlete needs to be.

“Growing up, in college,” said Koepka, “through right when you turn pro, there’s always people who are going to doubt you, say you can’t do it. Even know you’re just trying to prove everybody wrong. That’s the way I view it.”

The way he was viewed by some others was as a kid with a temper. At Florida State, he slammed more than one club to the turf. But all that intensity kept him from surrendering when things went wrong, as they often do in golf.

It’s a maddening game, one without teammates. The frustration builds. On Friday, while Koepka was shooting his 63, Bubba Watson, a two-time Masters winner, shot 78, 15 shots higher. That’s why golfers, no matter if they are touring pros or hackers, never are more confident than the next shot.

Koepka, 28, became a golfer truly by accident. A car crash when he was a boy kept him from playing contact sports. At 6 feet tall and 186 pounds, he looks like an athlete and would prefer to be hitting baseballs over fences than golf balls down fairways. The former major leaguer Dick Groat is a great uncle.

“If I could do it again, I’d play baseball — 100 percent no doubt,” he told Jaime Diaz of Golf Digest. Then again, he said that before winning his first U.S. Open at Erin Hills in June 2017.

Koepka failed in his first attempt to qualify for the PGA Tour. Then, instead of going the usual route, the secondary Dot.com Tour, triple-A minors you might say, he joined the European Tour. It was a grind, in unfamiliar locations with different foods, but it helped toughen Koepka.

An injured wrist kept Koepka out of the Masters, and all golf, this past spring. He said all he could do was sit on the bed and watch others play on TV.

“It was disappointing,” he said, “but when you take four months off, you really appreciate being able to play, and you’re eager to get back. I kind of fell back in love with the game. I just missed competing. It can get a little bit lonely when you’re just sitting on the couch.”

Since returning from Europe and joining the PGA Tour in 2012, Koepka has won only three times. Indeed two of the wins were in the U.S. Open, but you’d presume a player with his skill and grit would have several more.

“I’m not thinking about that when I’m out there,” Koepka insisted. ”I’m just trying to win this week. That’s the thing I’m worried about, winning this week and taking that and moving towards the playoffs.”

Halfway through the 100th PGA Championship, you like his chances. And no, to answer your question, he never did work at McDonald’s.