The U.S. Open invites Tiger; as it should have

The United States Golf Association offered Tiger Woods an exemption into the 2024 U.S. Open at Pinehurst. Anyone have a problem with that?  

I don’t.  

And one assumes NBC-TV, which has the contract to televise the tournament, doesn’t either.

Sports are about entertainment as much as they are about competition.  And in the individual games, golf, tennis, it’s the stars, the names, who bring us to the course or the courts, or the TV screen.

Four majors in golf, all of which have been won by Woods, and three, the Masters, PGA Championship and Open Championship, or British Open, give the winner a lifetime invite. You did something special, and you’ll be rewarded in a special way.

Unless it’s America’s national championship, the U.S. Open. Thanks, but in a few years you’ve got to qualify with the other guys, and don’t let the trophy get tarnished.  

Woods is not going to win. Not at age 48, with that beat-up body. He probably won’t make the cut. But as long as he’s able and willing, get him and the other former champions into the field as they do at Augusta or will do at Troon, in Scotland, where the Open is scheduled, or Valhalla, the site of the PGA Championship in May.

Golf is the forever game, with 25-year-olds challenging for the honors achieved by an older generation. Someone we barely know teeing off in the same group with someone already famous. Or about to be. 

No, you didn’t want to turn it into an invitational, but how come the British Open, the oldest event of them all, can find room for its former champions, and except for rare exemptions, such as this — and the U.S. Open can’t?

Woods seemed as excited about getting one more chance to play an Open as anyone.

He’s won three Opens, the last, in 2008 at Torrey Pines, when, with a leg so painful he grimaced on every shot, Woods beat Rocco Mediate, in a playoff that went 19 holes.

“This U.S. Open, our national championship, is a truly special event for our game, one that has helped define my career," Woods said in a statement. "I'm honored to receive this exemption and could not be more excited for the opportunity to compete in this year's U.S. Open, especially at Pinehurst, a venue that means so much to the game.”

Tiger himself did so much for the game. He brought in a different audience, which included various ethnic groups so long unaccepted in the game, and which also helped turn him into an attraction that before his time would have seemed unimaginable.

The U.S.G.A. did right by Tiger Woods and golf. It will be good to see him in The Open no matter how well he does play.

For Dustin, Open 2nd hole troubles a 2nd time

LOS ANGELES — Another U.S. Open in California. Another second-hole meltdown for Dustin Johnson. Please refrain from any references to a golden state.

Thirteen years ago, in 2010, the Open was at Pebble Beach, and going into the final round Johnson was in first. Then he was in a funk, taking a seven on hole No. 2, normally a par-5 but played as a par-4 for the Open. 

You could say his game figuratively went south. He ended up with an 82 and tied for eighth.

Now the Open literally has gone south, to Los Angeles Country Club. In the intervening years, Johnson won a U.S. Open and a Masters. He’s a major champion--and still tormented by a second hole at a U.S. Open.

This time it was Friday in the June gloom of a southern Cal summer. This time he took an 8, a snowman, and a dreaded quadruple bogey on a 497-yard par-4.

This time, despite instantly dropping from a cumulative 6-under to 2-under, he didn’t blow a U.S. Open. Not with 36 holes to play and the course toughened after those record-low 62s Thursday. Not with potential disasters awaiting in the fiendishly prepared rough or the barranca that is the course landmark.

“To battle back,” said Johnson, whose birdie at the 18th enabled him to shoot an even-par 70. “I’m proud of that.”

Open courses are supposed to be difficult. The USGA probably had a few apoplectic officials after round one of the tournament, when not just one person broke the single-round scoring record, but two.

Usually, even the winner has one round of his four that requires a fortunate putt or a holed bunker shot. The idea at the majors is to play as well as you are able to for as long as you are able to. 

There’s an off-handed comment that growing old is not for sissies. Well, even though the issue certainly is different, neither are major golf championships.

The reluctant need not try. The conditions are testing, and the results are frequently frustrating, if not downright disappointing. It’s a work of persistence. You’re up against players as good as you. Rickie Fowler might do it at last. Or might never do it.

We used to say the same about Dustin Johnson. Now he’s one of the very best. And yet once again in California there he was at a U.S. Open making a mess of things.

“I was just trying to make a five,” said Johnson. “Didn’t hit that bad of a drive. I just hit it a little on the top so it didn’t quite cut enough. Caught the corner of the bunker and then chunked my bunker shot. Everything that you could do wrong I did wrong.”

Not really. He had a rotten hole, but at the halfway point he was only four shots behind.

“It could have gone the other way after the second hole,” said Johnson.

But it went the right way. Unlike after the second hole in the other Open in California.

Johnny Miller: No fear holding a 5 Iron or a microphone

LOS ANGELES — He never was afraid to go for the flagstick or the jugular.  When Johnny Miller was holding a 5 iron you knew he would be on target. As he could be holding a microphone.

It’s mid-June, the start of another U.S. Open, the tournament that meant everything to Miller.   

The tournament he thought he could win as an amateur. The tournament he did win as a young pro.

How quickly the years pass. How slowly the memories fade.

How wonderful Miller’s contributions have been to the sport where he gained fame as a hell-bent champion and later recognition as a forthright TV commentator has given him a prestigious honor.  

Miller on Tuesday night, in a ceremony that caused him to tear up, was presented the Bobby Jones Award for sportsmanship, character and integrity.

Miller is 76, many years and shots distant from that 1966 Open on his home course, the Olympic Club in San Francisco.  

It’s the US. Open that was best known for Arnold Palmer squandering a 7-shot lead with nine holes to play and then losing an 18-hole playoff to Billy Casper.  

It’s also the Open a novice golf writer for the San Francisco Chronicle was assigned to cover Miller, a hometown kid, 19 and attending (and playing for) BYU.   

Miller had learned the game by hitting balls into a canvas backstop his father, Larry, hung in the garage of their home in the Sunset District.

Seems old-fashioned decades later. Seems brilliant. 

Johnny won the U.S. Junior. Johnny won on Tour. Johnny won the 1974 U.S. Open at Oakmont, closing with a 63 that for so long was the single-round low in an Open.

What I recall about that final round was how John’s wife, Linda, figuring he had no chance after three rounds, stayed with their young children at the motel. It was Birdies in his first four holes that brought her to the course.

Miller never was one for excuses. One year being locked-in competition at the Crosby with Jack Nicklaus at Pebble Beach, Miller whacked his approach into the bushes on 16.

“A perfect shank,” he affirmed later in the press room. 

Nor was he one for false modesty.

Consider his words about that ’73 Open, the one Sports Illustrated headlined as “Miller’s Miracle.”

“It sort of made…,” he began, then halted. “It was one of those finishes that you just almost don't forget. Every guy that was any good at all from Palmer, Nicklaus, Player, Trevino, all the guys who were in front of me. It wasn't like it was a bunch of guys you didn't know who they were. It was just all the who's who in golf were vying for that U.S. Open at Oakmont. I had to go through all those guys to win it outright.”

“I knew after four holes — I was six strokes back and I birdied the first four holes and I knew that I was in the running. The hair on the back of my neck sort of stood up when I said that to myself: You've got a chance to win. That made the adrenaline just start pumping.” 

He had been preparing to win a U.S. Open virtually from the first time he banged a shot against that canvas in the garage. His time had come.

“In my career, I didn't let pressure affect me tee to green. Tee to green I was sort of bulletproof. But it affected my putting, and I left a couple of short putts short of the hole.”

No matter. He wasn’t short of his goal. He was a U.S. Open champion.

Koepka, the man who wins majors

LOS ANGELES — Brooks Koepka is the most famous golfer we don’t know, a champion content in his achievements — and to heck with everything else.

He talks like the baseball player he once wanted to be, candidly, unpretentiously. If that isn’t good enough to get him into a television commercial, well his play has put him into the winner’s circle.

Especially at the majors, the tournaments Koepka himself admits are the only ones that matter.

A month ago he won the PGA Championship for the third time and starting Thursday at Los Angeles Country Club, he has the chance to win the U.S. Open for a third time

No song and dance routines. No appearances on late-night TV. Just comments that reflect reassuring confidence.

“I'm pretty sure I know what it takes to compete in majors,” he said Tuesday. “I've won five of them and been second four times. And just over my track record of how to prepare when you're here, how to prepare when you're home, I've got that, I guess, on lock.”

Would Tiger Woods have said something like that, even if he believed it? Would Arnold Palmer? 

But they weren’t 34-year-old Brooks Koepka, whose image never matched his results.

 It would be appropriate if that changed here at LACC, whose image of obsessive restriction may be altered with the playing of a tournament whose very name, Open, means it is available to those eligible.

 Now the oil sheik wealth of the LIV has overwhelmed the PGA Tour (Don’t call it a merger, it’s a partnership), was the PGA Tour explanation — and so we may soon see more of Koepka.

Whether he will apply for readmittance to the PGA Tour which banned him when he accepted the enormous cash payoff to join LIV is unknown at present.

Sure, we can ask Koepka, but surely he will give us that repetitive answer that he is concentrating on, yes, winning the Open. As if talking about something other than the blind shot to LACC’s seventh green would throw off his game plan.

 “It’s a tough golf course,” Koepka said about LACC North. 

Not quite a surprise, certainly. You think they’re going to hold what amounts to America’s golfing championship at someplace easy? Or simple.

An Open Curse and the way it is prepared is meant to challenge every shot in your bag, from tee to green, from fairway to rough, from bunker to putting surface. 

Open entrants get frustrated, defeated almost from the moment their opening tee shot creeps into the rough. Koepka understood not to get discouraged, which is an acquired quality. 

Koepka said chaos prevails in the majors, particularly at the US Open. Asked for an example to be referred to the 2018 Open at Shinnecock Hills on Long Island.

“Everybody was… complaining,” he said. “I just felt like it was — they were all so focused on the golf course they kind of forgot about what was going on, that they were there to play a major championship. Okay, the greens are pretty fast. But if you leave yourself with an uphill putt, it's not too bad.”

 Neither was Koepka’s finish, he won.

LA Country Club (US) Opens up

LOS ANGELES — What, you didn’t know there was a Los Angeles Country Club? The members would be pleased. Ecstatic really. The place is so private it makes Cypress Point seem like the local muni.

The name isn’t even posted at the vehicle entrance. Just the address. It’s on Wilshire Boulevard in a neighborhood where no one is likely to stop by to borrow a cup of sugar.

Or a pencil to keep score on the back nine.

But this is all about to change. The U.S Open will be played at LACC starting Thursday — specifically on the mysterious North Course — and the masses will be swarming over a hunk of the property said to be worth between $6 and $9 billion.

A hunk of land that seems as much rumor as reality.

In an area that, in addition to sunshine and orange trees, owes its existence to the art of promotion as well as the development of cinematography.

The movie business.

But you wouldn’t have found anyone in the entertainment biz on the LACC membership roster. Until recently no Jews, no producers, no actors.

Randolph Scott, who appeared in numerous Hollywood westerns in the 1950s was rejected when he applied for membership because of his profession. 

“Anyone who’s seen my movies knows I can’t act," protested Scott.

There are dozens of apocryphal stories about people seeking to get into LACC and failing despite seemingly impeccable credentials.

A wealthy Texas Oilman who had everything in his favor except his name, Rosenberg, which made him appear to be Jewish even though he wasn’t.

It was then suggested he apply at nearby Hillcrest, which in turn passed him off (remember this is apocryphal from Hollywood folk), and told him sorry, it didn’t accept Gentiles.

“I’m an SOB,” gasped Rosenberg. Then tried Riviera he was informed.

Which has nothing to do with the fact the only time the Open was held in Los Angeles. It was at Riviera, in 1948, and the winner was Ben Hogan. A long time ago, 75 years. The Open has been held in San Francisco (Olympic), Pebble Beach, San Diego (Torrey Pines) but not LA. Until now.

There’s a saying that if you delay drinking a wonderful bottle of wine too long it’s like turning a Picasso to the wall. Better to get a taste. So it is with a famous golf course.

The late Sandy Tatum gets at least some of the credit. Maybe most of it. Tatum grew up in Los Angeles and had access to LACC.

An NCAA champion at Stanford in the 1940s, Tatum believed in what some call the “growing of the game.”

He was the force behind the improvement of San Francisco’s Harding Park, where the clubhouse carries his name. This Open at Los Angeles Country Club carries his spirit.

Serena packs the place and keeps on going

Those commercials on ESPN, the ones that advise how sports bring enjoyment to our lives? They couldn't be more perfectly timed.

Yes, this has to do with Serena Williams.

She will be 41 in a few days. She’s a mother of one.

And on Friday she will be playing Ajla Tomljanović of Australia in the third round of a U.S. Open tennis tournament where some wondered if she could get past the first.

None of Serena’s opponents reminded us of Martina Navratilova or Chris Evert, but who cared? In the second round Wednesday, Williams upended the No. 2 seed, a tearful Anett Kontaveit of Estonia, 7-6 (4). 2-6, 6-2.

Of the 27,000 crammed into Arthur Ashe Stadium in New York, roughly 26,535 were screaming and hooting for Serena.

True, that’s unfair to Kontaveit, who despite having played the women’s tour for a decade (she’s 26) nobody but the tennis mavens know.

In a sport built as much on longevity as success, and where familiarity brings respect and endorsements, Williams has lasted. And triumphed over tough times, as well as those across the net.

Along with record ratings, that’s good enough for me. The pre-event hype has been overdone, if anything in Manhattan can be overdone. If you can make it there, go the lyrics, you’ll make it anywhere.

Serena Williams made it anywhere and everywhere. She followed older sister Venus, now 44 — and with whom she is teamed in doubles — from the mean streets of Compton, Calif., to make history.

The word retirement is not allowed in Serena’s presence. She’s not retiring from what will be her last Open and perhaps forever. She’s “evolving,” but however you want it labeled, she’s leaving.

Tennis will miss her. And judging from the promos, ESPN will miss her.  

The network built its campaign around Serena — and in the media, it wasn’t alone. One day, the New York Times’ digital section had three Williams stories, posted one after another.

Serena herself has remained as subdued and humble as is possible for a generational athlete. “It’s me, the same Serena,” she told the fans after her second-round win.

Not that we expected anyone else. At least until she retires, or, evolves.

“There’s still a little battle left in me,” she said. That battle is the essence of Serena Williams. When failing in other matches. Mary Jo Fernandez, a former player now commenting for ESPN, said Williams had the ability to serve herself out of trouble.

When Fernandez asked after the Kontaveit match, “Are you surprising yourself with your level of play?” Serena responded, “I’m just Serena, you know.
“

We do know. As Tiger Woods, Williams was capable of coming up with the right shot when it was needed. 

This Open, baseball is nearing the playoffs and college football is starting. Serena has been needed fo jack up interest and fill seats.

Some optimists, after the first two rounds, also picked her to win.

For certain, she can’t lose. Nor can tennis.

A young man from old England wins the Open in New England

BROOKLINE, Mass. — In New England on Sunday, the golf story once more was about a young man from old England.

At the same historic place, The Country Club, where after crossing the sea nine years earlier he took the U.S. Amateur championship, Matthew Fitzpatrick won the U.S. Open.

On an unseasonably cold afternoon in the suburbs of Boston, on a course of long rough and short tempers, Fitzpatrick held on and hung in.

He shot an impressive 2-under-par 68 for a 274 total, which was 6-under but more significantly was one shot lower than both Will Zalatoris — whose 14-foot birdie attempt at the final hole, agonizingly, just missed — and Scottie Scheffler.

On a leader board loaded with stars, 2021 Masters champ Hideki Matsuyama came in another two shots back for third after the low round of the tournament, a 65, while British Open winner Collin Morikawa (66) and four-time major winner Rory McIlroy (69) tied for fifth at 278.

Thls Open had tough situations and great shots, but not the midsummer heat that’s normally a part of the nation’s championship, with golfers (and shivering spectators bundled in sweaters and jackets.

The competition, however, was hot.

At times, Scheffler, the Masters champ and top-ranked player, and Zalatoris, the San Francisco native, toyed with the lead. But Fitzpatrick moved in front for good with a birdie at 15 and was on his sort-of-merry way to not only his biggest win but his first on the PGA Tour.

“For me,” he said about people waiting for the breakthrough, “the expectations were for me to play well, but I feel having won the U.S. Amateur here I feel so comfortable around the place. I knew where to hit it.”

Knowing this is one thing, but playing is even more important. You have to swing fearlessly, if not effortlessly. Any little mistake becomes a very big mistake, as Scheffler understands — he was 6-under Saturday, then fell to 1-under. He edged back to 6-under Sunday but bogied 10 and 11.

That’s a U.S. Open. There’s no place to relax, especially at The Country Club. “I knew it was hard,” said Joel Dahmen. “I didn’t know it was this hard.“ He went from a tie for first on Friday to a tie for 10th.

Scheffler figured to have the best chance. He stumbled.

“I played well,” he said. “I was just one shot short.”

One shot is all the differential you need.

The relief here is the talent and a great course helps produce a great tournament.  And a great winner.

Fitzpatrick has been on the radar since he came over and won the 2013 U.S. Amateur. He was given a golf scholarship to Northwestern, following the path of another English star, Luke Donald, but the talent and the temptations (numerous sponsorship offers) were too great. So he left the classroom for the tee.

His attire is covered with the names of sponsors — including Workday, which for a long while used Phil Mickelson as its prime spokesman. Now Fitzpatrick's career is covered with glory.

Not that it came easily in the weeks leading up to the Open and in the tournament itself. But after bogies at 10 and 11 he played the rest of the back nine 2-under.

The drive on 15 went far right, but he found the ball.  

“It’s funny,” he said. “I've had moments like that all year where I’ve caught a break. Then I hit one of the best shots I hit all day.

“I don’t like to compare myself to a football (soccer) team, but I feel I wasn’t expected to do well, wasn’t expected to succeed. But I’ve won a major.”

Maybe the biggest of them all.

Zalatoris has his chance for a major

BROOKLINE, Mass. — He’s been ready for this, and so has golf. Will Zalatoris has the game — he already finished second in two majors.

Now all he needs is the victory and the nickname.

Like “the Big Z” or maybe “the Z Man.”

In another day, you may be able to call him something more elegant: U.S. Open champion.

But let’s not rush the issue. After all, early on Saturday, it looked as if the guy holding the third round lead of this U.S. Open would be Scottie Scheffler.

Wasn’t Scheffler two strokes ahead after 10 holes? Wasn’t Scheffler leading the season-long Fed-Ex Cup standings?

Ah, but golf can be the meanest of games.

Especially on a day when the wind off the Atlantic is gusting, and when one swing can cost too many shots and a lifetime of agony.

Scheffler double-bogied 11. Then bogied 12.Then bogied 13. Then bogied 14.

He went from minus 6 to minus 1, and even if he would birdie 17 and shoot 71, he would tumble to a tie for third at 208, two strokes behind Zalatoris (67) and Mathew Fitzpatrick (68). Defending champ Jon Rahm double-boogied 18 for 71 and 207.
    

Yes, anything can happen at anytime, especially when the weather is nasty and the rough at the famed Country Club is deep and heavy.

Zalatoris has avoided any real mishaps through three rounds. He showed up confident and prepared, and why not after a second place in the recent PGA Championship at Southern Hills and a second in the 2021 Masters?

“On top of the belief that I belong in the situations,” said Zalatoris, “when I’m off, I’m not that far off.”

Zalatoris, 25, was born in San Francisco and started golf in the Bay Area, even getting a few bits of advice from the late Ken Venturi, who won the 1964 U.S. Open.

Zalatoris’s father, an architect, was spending so much time flying to work in Dallas he chose to move the family to Texas. It was there he played in junior tournaments with Scheffler and Jordan Spieth.

After a year at Wake Forest, Zalatoris turned pro and following a brief stay on the Korn Ferry Tour qualified for the PGA Tour. He’s always had the “sky’s the limit” attitude, in effect asking “Why not me?”

He didn’t have to ask why Scheffler had problems on the back nine. Zalatoris knew.  

“That wind was brutal,” confirmed Zalatoris. “But when I made a mistake I was on the far side of the green or having room where maybe I could at least chip one up. When I played here during the (U.S. Amateur) in 2013, I thought it was the hardest course I’ve ever played.”

And now, for what amounts to the national golfing championship, it’s even more difficult. There only have been Opens at the Country Club, in the suburbs of Boston, and as far as the egos of the golfers are concerned that’s three too many. They hate to be embarrassed.

“I think the biggest thing for me (Sunday),” said Zalatoris, understanding he’s so close to a title and yet still so far, “there are a ton of major champions on the leaderboards, and by no means is the job done.”

In a way, it is just about to start.

An Open of smiling gods and shots off carpets

BROOKLINE, Mass. — Back in the 1950s, when gasoline was 25 cents a gallon and wood golf clubs were really made of wood and not metal, somebody said, “You don’t win a U.S. Open, it wins you.”

Meaning when the golfing gods smile and you don’t double-bogey the first hole in the second round as, alas, Justin Thomas did Friday at The Country Club, you might end up holding the trophy.

Like Scott Simpson. Or Jack Fleck. Or Jack Nicklaus or Tiger Woods.

After two rounds of shuffling and surprises, Collin Morikawa and Joel Dahmen got the smiles Friday, ending up in a tie for first at 5-under.

Defending champ Jon Rahm, Rory McIlroy, Hayden Buckley and Beau Hossler were at 6-under.

As you’ve heard, in an Open, with all those weeds and dastardly quick greens you’ve got to be patient, not to mention accurate, and understand the tournament and the course are designed both to make you miss and make you miserable.

There’s a great quote from the late Tony Lema about the difference between the Masters and the U.S. Open, something like the Masters, with its wide fairways, is fun while the U.S. Open can be agony.

Not so far this Open for Scottie Scheffler, who in April won the Masters, and 36 holes into this Open is one of the leaders.

Golf may be a long walk (spoiled, according to Mark Twain), but things in a tournament can change in short order.

As in the 1966 Open at San Francisco's Olympic Club when Billy Casper picked up four shots on Arnold Palmer in two holes, or Gil Morgan’s unfortunate collapse in 1992 at Pebble Beach, when he went from a record under par to a disaster at the eighth hole.

Here in the suburbs of Boston, where people already were trying to come to terms with the Celtics losing the NBA Finals to the Warriors, the mystery was what happened to a golfer named A.J. Dauffe.

He was in the sole lead after the front nine, and then he wasn’t even one of the 14 names on the board when he finished the round — although momentarily his name kept appearing and disappearing.

He went from 6-under-par at the 10th tee to even par after the final hole, closing with a double-bogey for 32-40–72 on a par-70 course.

Dauffe (pronounced Duffy) is a South African who, after brief stays at a couple of small American universities, joined the Korn Ferry Tour, from which a couple weeks ago he earned a place on the PGA Tour.

Friday he earned a place in golfing lore.

He hit his tee shot on the 14th onto the deck of a hospitality area. Instead of taking a drop, he chose to play the ball where it landed.

“I’m coming over you,” he shouted at spectators below. Later he explained, “I had 278 uphill, and if I drop I’m in the rough. I didn’t want to hit a 7-iron blind. I had a 4-wood in the bag, and the lie is so good on the hospitality carpet.”

He knew where he stood during the round. His name was ahead of everyone else’s. Then he watched it being moved down.

“An up and down round,” agreed Dauffe. “Executed really well, There were some moments when I had to scramble.

“Back nine was disappointing. Did the simple really bad. But you know, if you told me (Thursday) I would be 1-under-par in the top 15 finishing my round (Friday), I would have said yes. Taking everything out of the equation.”

And taking a shot off a carpet.

Rory a leader in more than one way

BROOKLINE, Mass. — Not all that long ago, Rory McIlroy was described as the next Tiger Woods. Now he’s being called the moral compass of golf.

It may be hard to say which label is more complimentary.

Rory’s ability to make birdies — and save an occasional par — remains prevalent and relevant as verified Thursday in the opening round of the U.S. Open.

McIlroy’s 3-under-par 67 had him tied for the early lead. Yet these days, he seems more famous for taking the lead in the PGA Tour’s battle to suppress the new Saudi-controlled LIV Tour.

As a kid in Holywood, Northern Ireland (yes, one “L” but same pronunciation), McIlroy was thrashing adult opponents. After turning pro, Rory matched two guys named Tiger Woods and Jack Nicklaus by winning three majors before reaching age 25, the first of which was the 2011 U.S. Open, when he was 22.

No less compelling was McIlroy’s willingness to speak openly about golf and his successes and even failures, the latter subject being one that players fear. He goes blithely ahead, filling journalists’ notebooks. What an attitude.

Following his fine, if occasionally distressing round Thursday — that rough at The Country Club got him on the fifth hole before he escaped — McIlroy was asked, of course, about the Saudi tour.

And why he’s been so adamant in support of the PGA Tour, the establishment, as it were, against the “we’ll buy you out” rebels of the LIV Tour.

“I'm just being me,” said McIlroy. “I’m living my life. I’m doing what I think is right and trying to play the best golf that I possibly can. I wasn't asked to be put here. I wasn't trying to be in this position. I'm just being me.”

Golf needs heroes, if not villains, although they fit well in the plan. Who would have imagined the villains would not be other players who knock off the stars — majors seem more major when the big guys win — but financiers?

The U.S. Open, as the name implies, is open, so anybody from anywhere who meets qualifying standards gets in, but PGA Tour defectors like Dustin Johnson — the anti-Rory? — won’t be allowed into events such as the Players or the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am.

McIlroy’s presence as the standard bearer seems part of a renaissance. No, he hasn’t won all four majors (he lacks only the Masters), but he did finish second in this most recent Masters, followed by an eighth-place finish in the PGA Championship. He appears destined for a high finish in this Open.

“Yeah, a really solid start,” said McIlroy. “You’d take 67 around this golf course any day. Even though I'm standing up here slightly frustrated that I bogeyed the last, it's a great start to the tournament.

“I felt like I did most things well today. I certainly putted well, and I hit the ball in the right spots, and I hit a lot of greens, gave myself plenty of chances. Just basically did everything that you need to do at a U.S. Open.”

Meaning staying on the fairways and not getting frustrated by the speed of the greens. As everyone knows, this is the nation’s championship, and you’ll be tested as much emotionally as physically.

Traditionally, the course gets more difficult, with harder greens and length of rough, as the week goes along.

Asked if after the statements he made on behalf of the PGA Tour he was trying to make one on behalf of his golf, McIlroy said, “Not really. It’s been eight years since I won a major, and I want to get my hands on one again.”

Who wouldn’t?

Phil never afraid to take a shot or a chance

BROOKLINE, Mass. — So he’s back again, back in competition, back at the U.S. Open, which he’s never won — and, after a period of silence some thought was too short and others believed was too lengthy, back in the headlines.

Good old Phil Mickelson has taken the challenge and taken the podium, enmeshed in a controversy of his own creation — that Saudi golf situation — and having as much fun trying to be right as he does swinging a golf club from the left.

At his age Mickelson, who turns 52 Thursday during the opening round, doesn’t have a legit chance for the championship of this 122nd Open, but that hardly matters.

Phil is by far the most interesting player in the field, never afraid to make any shot or until recently any observation. Play it as lies is the essence of golf, and when it comes to Mickelson and his remarks, all interpretations are allowed.

Mickelson’s near misses in the Open — he has six seconds overall — would normally be a primary storyline, but not this time. Phil was one of the people who persuaded the wealthy Saudi princes to pony up (camel up?) hundreds of millions for what is called the LIV Tour, stealing pros from the PGA Tour.

Phil and others who opted for the LIV have been handed lifetime suspensions by the PGA Tour, but the Open (and the British Open) are not controlled by the PGA Tour so Mickelson is here without restrictions. Or regrets. Although not without criticism.

Osama bin Laden, responsible for the 9/11 attacks, was Saudi. Relatives of 9/11 victims have expressed their outrage to Mickelson and other golfers willing to play for Saudi money. Mickelson could only say he has a deep sense of empathy for the families and loved ones. But earlier he had admitted the Saudis killed the journalist Jamal Khashoggi and had a miserable record on human rights.

Surely these were not the sort of conversations heard on an Open course, this time at The Country Club near Boston, but golf is in a state of flux.    

Mickelson has a strange relationship with other pros, admired by many for his play and relationship with spectators, willing to step into crowds. But he’s disliked by others who see him as a bit of a phony.

For the most part, he was a fan favorite — at the U.S. Open at Bethpage in New York, they chanted “Philly Mick” — and he was asked how they might treat him after he deserts the PGA Tour.

“If fans would leave or whatnot,” said Mickelson, “I respect and understand their opinion and I understand they have strong emotions regarding this choice.”

Mickelson said he has worked to curtail what has been both an expensive and, according to rumored threats demanding payoffs, a sometimes anguished gambling habit. One of the reasons he got involved with the Saudis was to pay off millions in wagers.

Phil’s game reflects his personality. And vice versa. He was never a guy to play it safe. That cost him the 2016 Open at Winged Foot ,when he double-bogeyed the 72nd hole and maybe cost him large hunks of the millions he won playing golf.

Still he became arguably the second most popular American golfer next to Tiger Woods.

He won more than 40 tournaments. Won five majors. He did what he felt he needed to do. But that Saudi thing was a sad twist to the tale.

Steph and Rory hit Boston at the same time

BROOKLINE, Mass. — Rory McIlroy arrived on Monday. After a victory. Steph Curry will be arriving Wednesday. After a victory. OK, different sports and technically different cities — Boston literally is next door — but who cares?

We’re dealing with champions here, one involving the U.S. Golf Association, the other with the National Basketball Association, and with two of the biggest names in sports.

Both, through their own brilliance and the good fortune of timing, on course and on court within a few miles of each other in a small patch of New England.

This is always the week of the U.S. Open, golf’s moveable feast, which now will be at The Country Club — when the place opened in the 1890s, no other label was needed.

And it’s usually the week of the NBA finals, now shifting from San Francisco to Boston, where with the Warriors up 3-2, Game 6 will be played Thursday night.

A few hours after the opening round of the 122nd Open.

Without Tiger Woods, still worn out from his struggle last month in the PGA, and with Phil Mickelson more a controversy than a competitor, McIlroy becomes a focus for the Open, and for any major really, especially after his victory in the Canadian Open. Curry is the focus any time the Warriors play, especially since Game 5, when for the first time in his playoff career he did not make a single 3-point basket.

No parallel with McIlroy, although as any golfer he’s had his misses.

It did not take long for an interview with McIlroy, known for his opinions as much as for his success — he has won three of the four majors, other than the Masters — to be asked about the Saudi involvement in golf.

McIlroy stayed loyal to the PGA Tour, which announced those who choose to play the LIV Tour, financed by the Saudis, would be banned by the PGA Tour.

That has no effect on the U.S. Open, organized by the USGA, so people such as Dustin Johnson and Mickelson, who have gone for the Saudi money,  whatever the human rights record, are able to compete in the Open.

“I don’t want to rub your nose in it,” a journalist told McIlroy, “but in February you said this thing was dead in water.” Rory responded, “The U.S. Open?” and the room filled with laughter.

When the questioner stammered, “No, no, no,” McIlroy came back with full force. “Oh,” said Rory, “I thought we were at the U.S. Open.”

Where golf is at is anyone’s guess — well, right now it’s in Massachusetts — but the reference is to the game’s future.

“I took a lot of players’ statements at face value,” said McIlroy, about mistaking how many would remain with the PGA. “You had people committed to the PGA Tour. People went back on that. That’s where I was wrong.”

The way he plays golf, the way he represents himself, McIlroy rarely is wrong. His confidence is tempered with just enough humility to come across as someone with a sense of fairness as much as a sense of self.

He’s been there, done that and would relish doing it again.

The talk had turned from the people who turned from the PGA Tour to the very real idea of winning. Someone wondered why McIlroy is, if unintentionally, a leader of remaining with the PGA Tour.

“Because in my opinion,” he said, “it’s the right thing to do. The PGA Tour was created by people and tour players who came before people like Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer. They created something and worked for something. And the PGA Tour has certainly given me a lot of opportunities.”

And like the other sporting star in town now, Steph Curry, Rory McIlroy has taken advantage.

A special vision of 9/11

It was one of those classic East Coast thunderstorms, full of sound, fury and buckets of rain.

Even before the pilot announced the delay, it was obvious we would be stuck for a long while on the tarmac at JFK airport in New York.

My plans would have to change. Who could guess within hours the world was about to change? 

It was Monday evening, Sept. 10, 2001. A day earlier, I had covered the men’s final of the U.S. Open tennis championships at Flushing Meadows, only a few miles from where our jet sat while the downpour continued.

Lleyton Hewitt, an Australian barely out of his teens, had crushed Pete Sampras. In the women’s final Saturday, then-dominant Venus Williams, 21, defeated younger sister Serena, still a few days from her 20th birthday.

A great Open, but now I was headed to another continent, Europe, for a few days of vacation in Italy followed by another sport, golf, the Ryder Cup at the Belfry in England. It all seemed so neat, so organized.

But the flight, to London’s Heathrow, was late. The flight to Florence, Italy, departed from another airport, Gatwick, to which I had to bus some 45 miles. It now was around noon in Britain. The next flight to Italy wouldn’t leave for hours.

The crowd in the waiting lounge moved toward one of the TV sets at the bar.

Jet-lagged and clueless, I asked someone what was happening. ”Oh,” he said unemotionally, “a plane hit a building in New York.”

What? I pushed through everyone to get a better look at a TV screen, a bit rude by British standards, dropping an occasional “Sorry,” just to show Americans had some manners.

The enormity of the disaster was becoming a reality. Flights throughout the U.S. had been halted. In Europe, some still were operating, My wife, a travel agent, had been in Rome and was aboard a train to Florence, unaware of the attacks.

This was 20 years ago, a lifetime technologically, before everyone from Katmandu to Kentucky had an iPhone. But there were cell phones, or as the Brits call them, mobile phones.

I had rented one for my wife in case of an emergency, never imagining the emergency would be an attack on the United States. I went to a pay phone in the terminal and connected to my wife as the train rolled.

The Ryder Cup, which used to be played in odd years, was postponed. Last autumn it was postponed again because of the Covid-19 outbreak, returning to the odd-year schedule, it will be held again in a couple weeks at Whistling Straits, north of Milwaukee.

A few times when I’ve been in New York for the Open, I’ve made a sobering visit to ground zero. There is a memorial fountain and the tattered, scorched remnant of an American flag pulled from the flames.

I made it to Italy the night of the attack on one of the last planes still permitted to fly, then on CNN watched as did millions of others all the news reports, depressed and frightened.

The next morning my wife and I shared a breakfast table in a plaza with an English couple, who expressed their condolences and asked whether America would respond.

Two decades later, there only are partial answers. I’m just grateful that on the afternoon of Sept. 10, 2001, I had the opportunity for one last look at the twin towers. The vision will stay forever.

Rahm: From holding his face to holding the Open trophy

SAN DIEGO — It was less a golf tournament than a tragicomedy in three acts and two locations — part Hollywood, part St. Andrews and overall, very satisfying.

Two weeks ago, Jon Rahm had his face in his hands, stunned after being told he had to withdraw from the Memorial tournament in Ohio, where he had built a six-shot lead, because he tested positive for COVID.

On Sunday afternoon, many miles and smiles to the west, Rahm had his hands on the U.S. Open trophy, the first Spaniard to win the tournament.

While far too many of his skilled colleagues had their games come apart in a blitz of double bogies — or in the case of Byron DeChambeau, a quadruple-bogey — Rahm played the way favorites and winners play.

He closed with birdies at 17 and 18, fist-pumping in his Tiger Woods-red shirt on a Torrey Pines course where he had won a regular Tour tournament in 2017, the Farmers.

On Sunday, Rahm shot a spectacular 4-under-par 67 for a total of 6-under 278. That was one-shot better than Louis Oosthuizen, one of several who held the lead and then lost it on one of the more remarkable days in the 121 years of Open history.

When is the last time you heard of a guy in first on the back nine taking a quadruple-bogey on 13 and sinking to a tie for 26th? That was Byron DeChambeau, who had a 77 and said, “I didn’t really hit it very good and just got unlucky.”

But this tale is about Rahm. With his wife, Kelley, a former javelin thrower at Arizona State where Rahm was on the golf team, and their infant son, he was able to celebrate Father’s Day in great fashion.

“I think I said it (Saturday),” Rahm pointed out. “I'm a big believer in karma, and after what happened a couple weeks ago, I stayed really positive knowing good things were coming. I didn't know what it was going to be, but I knew we were coming to a special place.

“I knew I got a breakthrough win here, and it's a very special place for my family, and the fact that my parents were able to come, I got out of COVID protocol early, I just felt like the stars were aligning, and I knew my best golf was to come.”

But not until the 26-year-old Rahm found a way to get across the country. He was unable to fly after failing the COVID test. But golf guys, especially those with large budgets, are not like the rest of us. Rahm chartered an air ambulance.

The way the final round went, it seemed others needed help, mental if not medical. Collin Morikawa made a run — and double-bogied. Rory McIlroy came within a shot of the lead — and double-bogied. Francesco Molinari had things going — and double-bogied.

Meanwhile Rahm, who was two shots back after 54 holes, picked up two on the front. But after making seven straight pars from 10 he didn’t gain any ground. Then, wham, the birdies at 17 and 18. That will get your attention. It did get Rahm the Open.

“I have a hard time explaining what just happened,” he said, “because I can't even believe I made the last two putts, and I'm the first Spaniard ever to win a U.S. Open.”

Not surprisingly, he dedicated the victory to the late Seve Ballesteros, the Spaniard who won two Masters and two British Opens but never a U.S. Open.

“This was definitely for Seve,” he said. “I know he tried a lot, and usually we think a lot about him at the Masters, but I know he wanted to win this one most of all. I just don't know how to explain it.”

In golf you don’t explain, you play. And in this Open, he played magnificently. Olé.

Rory plays Torrey like the champion he is

SAN DIEGO — The U.S. Open? “The only tournament in the world where you fist pump a bogey.”

Rory McIlroy said it again on Saturday. When he had only one bogey, which he didn’t need to fist-pump.

There he was, playing Torrey Pines like the champion he’s shown us to be, shooting the day’s low round, a 4-under-par 67. There he is, from virtually out of nowhere, into a tie for fourth with Bryson DeChambeau.

One more round in this 121st Open being played on a bluff above the swirling Pacific. One more round of possibility and anxiety. Of balls stuck in the rough and chip shots that drop into the cup.

An eclectic leaderboard. Sharing first at 5-under 208 are Mackenzie Hughes of Canada, Louis Oosthuizen of South Africa and Russell Henley of Georgia. Two back at 210 are DeChambeau of Texas (via California) and McIlroy of Northern Ireland.

Oosthuizen won the 2010 British Open, DeChambeau won the 2020 U.S. Open and McIlroy won a U.S. Open, a British Open and two PGA Championships. The big boys are present.

One of the not-so-big boys, Richard Bland of England, who went 477 events on the Euro Tour before winning a month ago and was the co-leader with Henley after the second round of this Open, shot a 77, 6 over par.

Meaning in 18 holes Friday, McIlroy gained 10 shots on Bland, which was not a surprise given their pedigrees.

He also picked up strokes on many others, which considering the erratic way Rory was playing — he was 49th in the PGA Championship and missed the cut at the Masters and Players — might be considered a surprise.

Then again, he has been No. 1 in the world ranking and is only 32 years old in a sport in which Phil Mickelson captured the PGA a few weeks ago at age 50.

“I thought the golf course played short (Saturday),” McIlroy said about his move into contention. Short or long, it was the way McIlroy played that mattered. He had only one hole over par.

“I stayed patient,” he said, a phrase we’ve heard from Open winners, “(and) was rewarded with a little bit of a fortunate birdie on 10 and then a really fortunate birdie on 12 with a chip-in.”

McIlroy, along with Jordan Spieth (another multiple majors winner) is one of golf’s best conversationalists. He’ll discuss everything and anything including his own failings, a subject players normally avoid like they would a water hazard.

“I was just accepting hitting my approach shots into the middle of the green,” he said about playing it safe. “I got pulled into being overly aggressive out there (Friday, when he shot 73) and the pin positions were a bit trickier, but I hit good drives on 14 and 15 and got bogies.”

McIlroy’s strength always has been off the tee, and you could take that in more than one way. But he said the kikuyu grass rough hasn’t been the problem it is when the Farmers Open tournament is held on Torrey in February. Now, the kikuyu is drier and easier from which to extract a ball.

McIlroy was to start Round 4 at 11:34 am. PDT Saturday. “A weird time,” he said. “Sort of too early to have lunch and then you have a couple of bars on the course, and then I’m starving. So I’ll probably get some food.”

Presumably, he’ll have a better chance than the spectators. Because of COVID, the decision to allow fans at Torrey Pines was not made until May, not enough time to prepare for concessions. On Thursday, the wait to get food was two hours.

It improved on Friday. But Rory is sticking with his routine.

After the day’s best score, who can blame him?

Richard Bland: Rhinos, hats and a share of the U.S. Open lead

SAN DIEGO — He dislikes three-putts and animal cruelty, which probably is enough to make us both appreciate and embrace Richard Bland — who certainly is nothing like his last name.

Bland was 0-for-447 on the European Tour before winning a month ago. And — oh yeah — on Friday, Bland tied Russell Henley for the second-round lead of the 2021 U.S. Open golf tournament at Torrey Pines.

If you haven’t heard of Bland, that’s as much your fault as his, although admittedly neither the name nor the game — as the consultants would say — moves the needle.

But not everyone out there is Tiger Woods or Phil Mickelson. Or even Brooks Koepka. Truth be told, in his own persistent way, Bland is more fascinating than Tiger or Phil.

Think they would have stayed at the same grind 20 years, even at times dropping to the secondary Challenge Tour, without ever getting a commercial hat deal, much less a victory?

Asked why he kept at it, Bland, an Englishman, said, “Golf is all I know. When times got tough — I lost my (Euro Tour) card two or three times — I think, ‘What am I going to do, get an office job? I’m not that intelligent.’”

But he is persistent.

“I’ve been someone who can put his head down and work hard,” he said. “I’ve always had the game to compete on the European Tour at the highest level.”

Finally in May, at age 48, he won the British Masters and received congratulations from virtually dozens of other golfers, including Mickelson, who about the same time became at 50 the oldest ever to win a major.

Bland shot 4-under-par 67 Friday at Torrey for a 36-hole score of 137, equaling Henley at five under par.

“I was coming off a couple of good results, a win and a third in Europe,” said Bland about his play. “I was feeling good about my game. I’ve been driving the ball well for five or six weeks now, which is the cornerstone if you’re going to put up a fight for the U.S. Open.”

Bland’s driver head cover carries the label “Birdies for Rhinos,” promoting a charity involving some 20 members of the Euro Tour that donates money to battle rhino poachers in Africa.

“Animals are sort of quite close to my heart,” he said, repeating his mantra, “Two things I can’t stand are three-putting and animal cruelty. I just thought, an animal on my head cover. Why not a rhino?”

Why not a golf hat that advertises Ping or Titleist or Spalding? Bland’s hat says “Wisley,” which is the club outside London that he represents.

“I don’t have that kind of a hat deal,” said Bland. The kind he means would be comparable to the $2 million that Mickelson earns for wearing a hat that says KPMG on the front. After all, TV always shows a player’s head and face.

“I kind of said to the club (Wisley) it would be quite nice if I wore the hat, and they gave sort of like 10 hats to come here with, so yeah, it’s just a reminder of back home.”

If you want one, you’ll either have to stop by Wisley, which is in Surrey, or catch Bland after he finishes a round.

You would figure that Bland, going years without a win in Europe, is not going to get one in the U.S., much less the U.S. Open. Yet, these are strange days in sports.

“When I saw this place on Monday,” Bland said of Torrey Pines, “it kind of set up to my eye. There’s not too many sort of doglegs; It’s all just there straight in front of you, and that’s the kind of course I like.”

 A guy who tries to save animals, who brings 10 hats from his club and can share the lead halfway in the Open — that’s the kind of golfer we like.

Koepka’s as tough as Torrey Pines

SAN DIEGO — Brooks Koepka is the sort of guy you want on your side. Or on the first tee. He’s as tough as the courses he plays, never making an excuse and as likely to get irritated by an interviewer’s question as he is by his own missed putts.

He wanted to be a ballplayer but was limited to golf when, as a 10-year-old, his face was crushed in a car accident and he had to give up rough and tumble sports. If his game changed, his attitude did not.

Somehow, maybe intentionally, maybe accidentally, Brooks and Bryson DeChambeau got involved in a very ungentlemanly feud, the sort you’d never expect in golf but the sort that has developed.

What makes it more interesting is that both have won major championships — and this week, among shots both verbal and literal, are trying to win another, the U.S. Open at Torrey Pines.

The course is a bitch, stretched out more than 7,800 yards on a bluff above the Pacific. The rough, poa annua grass, is gnarly. The wind blows. And for good measure, jets from the Marine air base at nearby Miramar roar above with unnerving consistency.

In other words, give us a golfer who can be as nasty and unrelenting as Torrey Pines. A golfer like Brooks Koepka.

He shot a 2-under-par 71 Thursday in the first round, and if that wasn’t the lead it was close enough. Asked if it were important to get off to a good start, Koepka offered a response that was both repetitive and accurate.

“You can’t win it today,” he said, “but you can definitely lose it. Pretty pleased. Not the best, but I’ll definitely take it.”

Not that he has another choice.

Koepka is 6 feet, 205 pounds. He looks like a linebacker, or a major league catcher — in other words, an athlete. After leaving Florida State, he missed qualifying for the PGA Tour, then he went to Europe, played where conditions are difficult and the living is different. Toughening up, you might say.

When Koepka returned to America after winning in Europe and Britain, he was ready. He won the U.S. Open in 2017 and then again in 2018, becoming the first to repeat since Curtis Strange in 1988-89 (and only the second since Ben Hogan in the 1950s).

He followed that double with another double, victories in the 2018 and 2019 PGA Championship. Some players never win a single major. Koepka won four major majors in two years.

Then there was knee surgery and rehabilitation, which kept him from entering the 2020 Open at Winged Foot (won by DeChambeau). “Didn’t even watch it,” he said.

Now we’re all watching — and listening

“I’ve got a good game plan,” he said of success at the majors. “Focused. I know what I’m doing.”

That would seem an understatement.

“And I don’t try to do anything I can’t. It’s just all about discipline in a U.S. Open. That’s the gist of it.”

What some wonder about is the gist of the apparent disagreement between Koepka and DeChambeau — personality, philosophy, just plain dislike. Brooks looks away.

“As far as perception, I'm not really too concerned,” Koepka said of the public guesses. “I’m worried about what I've got to do and what I'm doing. I'm not concerned about what other people think. If I was concerned about what everybody else thought, I'd have been in a world of pain.”

He means the mental agony, as opposed to the physical, the knee.

“I've got more mobility right now than I ever have,” he said, “so that's a solid thing where I can start building some strength again and just keep the progress going.”

No nonsense, no pretense, good sense.

It’s Phil’s hometown, but it’s been Tiger’s course

SAN DIEGO — He had his renaissance and his record only days ago. So how much more can we expect from Phil Mickelson? Even in his hometown? Even on the course he played as a kid?

There will be no tears shed now for Mickelson’s game. Not that there should have been.

What he accomplished in May, at age 50 taking the PGA Championship, becoming the oldest to win a major, gave him a deserved place in the history of the royal and ancient game.

And yet this is the U.S. Open, America’s golfing championship, the tournament in which Mickelson — through failings of his own, through brilliance by others — has finished second six times but never finished first.

His 51st birthday was Wednesday, the day before the start of the 121st Open. Too old to compete in what presumably will be his last Open. Or is it? He had no chance in the PGA, right?

Five men have won each of the four majors, Gene Sarazen, Ben Hogan, Gary Player, Jack Nicklaus, and Tiger Woods. Mickelson would be a perfect sixth. Especially winning at Torrey, where he once played high school matches.

Then again, in a field that includes Brooks Koepka and Bryson DeChambeau — feuding, fussing and not-yet fighting — and Jon Rahm and Justin Thomas, all younger, let us not drift too far from reality.

If Phil were going to win an Open at Torrey, it would have been in 2008. He was paired with Tiger, who was hurting and would require leg surgery immediately after the event. But Tiger smoked Mickelson, smoked everybody, and so much for what could have been.

In Phil’s town, Torrey remained Tiger’s course.

As has been pointed out, Phil, in fact, was Tiger before Tiger, winning the Tucson Open while still an amateur, being touted as America’s next great player — before, indeed, Tiger became America’s next great player.

Whatever Mickelson honestly thinks of what transpired, he comes across as someone accepting of his fate and status. And of Tiger’s, who although growing up some 45 miles away from Phil, because of the six-year difference in ages, never faced him in the juniors.

“I don’t have any particularly funny stories,” Mickelson said of his first two rounds with Tiger in the ’08 Open. “I remember Tiger bogied — or double-bogied — the first hole, and I think both days and still won the tournament.”

Woods also had numerous victories at Torrey in the Farmers insurance or Buick Open, whatever the name of the event was each February at Torrey, and so the mayor of San Diego is going to put a plaque honoring Woods at the course.

Thinking back to Woods’ over-par starts in that Open, Mickelson said, “I thought that was pretty inspiring the way he didn’t let it affect him. He stayed to his game plan. Stayed focused. Stayed patient picking his spots where he could get a stroke here and there.

“And he ended up winning. That’s impressive.”

So was Mickelson winning the PGA Championship at an age when many people thought he should be shifting full-time to the Champions Tour, the seniors.

Phil has established his own standard.

“At the age of 50, he’s been playing on the PGA Tour for as long or longer than I’ve been alive,’’ said one of the favorites this week, Jon Rahm, who was born in 1994, three years after the first of Mickelson’s 45 PGA Tour wins.

“He still has that enthusiasm and that drive to become better and beat the best,” Rahm said. “I hope that in 25-plus years, I still have the same enthusiasm and the same grit to become better.’’

A fine tribute, especially in a person’s hometown.

Tiger’s Torrey win inspired an amateur named Spieth

SAN DIEGO — One champion, Jordan Spieth, was musing about another, remembering how Tiger Woods won the U.S. Open another time it was played at Torrey Pines, remembering the drama, remembering the inspiration.

Thirteen years ago, in 2008, Spieth was at the University of Texas with a ton of talent and a great many hopes.

Meanwhile, on the bluffs above the Pacific, Woods overcame a broken femur and Rocco Mediate in a thrilling tournament that would take 91 holes to decide. 

Golf courses, like battlefields, are famous for the men and women who won — or lost — on them. Pebble Beach always will be connected to Jack Nicklaus; the Olympic Club forever linked with Arnold Palmer and Billy Casper; and Torrey with Tiger.

“I remember watching the ’08 Open,” said Spieth on Tuesday after a practice round for this ’21 Open, “and dreaming of being out there and competing on this course and (in) this championship. What a phenomenal Open that was.”

Spieth was able to follow his dream. He’s on Tour, has won an Open, a Masters and a British Open. Tiger, of course, was involved in that near-fatal auto accident in February and requires rehabilitation.

That he’s not able even to attend this Open at the place where he won in ’08, the place where he won numerous PGA Tour tournaments, is unfortunate and ironic. One never knows what’s around the next corner.

Asked what he thought of Tiger’s victory here, Spieth thought of the injury that would require surgery only days after his triumph.

“Something you shouldn’t be playing on,” said Spieth, “then he went and won the U.S Open on it — which if you’re having to hack out of this rough, and obviously it’s one of the tougher walks, that’s something else.”

That stretch of three Opens within 800 miles in California — ’08 at Torrey, ‘10 at Pebble (won by Graeme McDowell) and ‘12 at Olympic (won by Webb Simpson) — was historic and unique. Olympic has chosen to host a PGA Championship, meaning the PGA Championship won’t be back, maybe ever.

Spieth was low amateur in the ’12 Open at Olympic. Three years later, as a young pro, he won at Chambers Bay near Seattle, his second major in three months, and some observers thought he might be the new Tiger.

What he is after playing Torrey in its most difficult setup is even more appreciative of Woods’ play here in ’08.

“It’s up and down on the 72nd hole from the rough,” said Spieth of Woods, “and obviously one of the most memorable putts in major championship history.

“I remember where I was watching it, and it was so exciting. Obviously, he was an inspiration for all of us younger generation (now) out here to go and practice a putt like that and to tie or win the U.S. Open.”

Which Spieth would do, if not exactly in the same circumstances.

Spieth spent much of the last three and a half years trying to regain the success that, as one of the mysteries of sport, inexplicably disappeared. Finally at the winter events in the desert, the new Jordan played like the old Jordan, and he won the Valero Texas Open in early April.

His outlook has changed. Particularly with an Open about to begin.

“Winged Foot,” he said of last year’s Open, “it was, oh boy, here we go. And I’m thinking this week I’m in a position where I can stand on the 10th tee on Thursday (he starts on the back nine) and win this golf tournament.”

Just as Spieth, the amateur, watched Tiger Woods do.

Phil implied there would be trouble — and there was

By Art Spander
For Maven Sports

Golf is different. In team sports, when those in charge no longer believe you are ineffective, that you’re too old, they put you on waivers or drop you — as the San Francisco Giants did recently with longtime favorites Hunter Pence and Pablo Sandoval.

Read the full story here.

Copyright 2020, The Maven