Of Pebble Beach, Jones, Nicklaus and the U.S. Amateur

By Art Spander

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — Two words, one locale, a dateline that excites golfers, a landscape that thrills artists: Pebble Beach, where Bobby Jones was slammed a year before he won the Slam and where Jack Nicklaus won an Amateur, a Crosby and an Open.

Many of us know Pebble for winter storms and celebrity hijinks, but now it’s summer, when the weather is morning fog and afternoon sun, and they’re playing the 118th U.S. Amateur, so players are grinding and not goofing.

The Amateur had been played only in the East until the U.S. Golf Association chose to hold it at Pebble in 1929. Jones, the defending champ, was eliminated in the first round of match play.

Nicklaus won the Amateur at Pebble in 1961, then of course won the Crosby a couple of times and in 1972 the first Open held at Pebble. He also redesigned the par-3 fifth hole, which was moved to the edge of Carmel Bay.

Nicklaus, interestingly, planned to stay amateur and chase Jones’ records, but for a person to become as dominant as Jack did with his 18 pro majors, it was necessary for him to turn pro, which he did in 1962 — and then a few months later, he won the Open.

Surely, the kids who have success in this Amateur, which now has reached the quarterfinals, will all turn pro. Maybe they’ll be stars like Nicklaus or Tiger Woods, who remains the only man to win three consecutive U.S. Amateurs. Or maybe they’ll be near-misses, like Ricky Barnes, who won the 2002 Amateur but hasn’t done much since going pro.

But whatever transpires, the contestants will have special memories. “The 18th hole,” said quarterfinalist Austin Squires, “there’s all that water on the left and the little stretch of fairway.”

Years ago a San Francisco journalist nicknamed the iconic 18th “The Closer,” not because it ended careers but because so many match-play events ended there, the fans on one side of the fairway, the surf crashing spectacularly on the other.

Jack Neville, with the help of Douglas Grant, laid out Pebble along the rolling bluffs. “It was all there in plain sight,” Neville told me back in the 1970s. “Very little clearing was necessary. The big thing was to get as many holes possible along the bay.”

Do courses make the player, or does the player make the course? The answer is both. Nicklaus hitting that 1-iron off the stick at 17, Tiger making that birdie out of the rough at six. That’s how we think of Pebble.

The quarterfinalists think they are in some of links heaven, and that’s a figure of speech because even though the official name is Pebble Beach Golf Links, the course does not traverse linksland.

Isaiah Salinda, a quarterfinalist, is from Stanford and South San Francisco. The Pacific Ocean is no big thing, although to him Pebble always will be. Squires, from Union, Kentucky, shakes his head at views he never imagined existed until his first trip to Northern California — and Pebble.

“It’s my first time at Pebble,” said quarterfinalist Devon Bling, who plays for UCLA. “This is an unbelievable place. I prepped by playing the little Tiger Woods PGA Tour game. It looks a little different in person. This is amazing.”

Is it ever.

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

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 100^th 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 18^th 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

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

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.

PGA: Fowler could rid himself of label as best golfer without a major

By Art Spander

ST. LOUIS — The label is a blessing and a curse: Best golfer never to have won a major. For so long it belonged to Phil Mickelson, who went years and 46 tournaments before escaping it at the 2004 Masters.

Now, for better or worse, it has been assigned to Rickie Fowler.

What it means, of course, is he’s a hell of a player. What it also means is that he doesn’t have a victory in any of the four tournaments that give a man a spot in history.

Second? Yes, Fowler has been runner-up in three of the four, including this year’s Masters. And a third in the other, the PGA.

But we’re talking firsts, like the 18 of Jack Nicklaus, the 14 of Tiger Woods. We’re talking about beating everyone in the field and not beating yourself up over the mistake that proved costly.

The cliché is that if a golfer is in contention enough times he’ll break through. After Thursday’s opening round of the 100th PGA Championship, Fowler is there once more. He shot a 5-under-par 65 at Bellerive Country Club.

But where will he be on Sunday afternoon?

It’s always the elephant in the room for Fowler, the unavoidable subject: Is this the week? Not that the journalists who confronted the 29-year-old Fowler had the temerity to ask that question point blank. They wondered if he knows how long Mickelson needed for his first major. Or if Rickie’s low round had him excited or worried.

“I’m definitely happy,” he explained, but then fell back on old golf logic. “You can’t win the tournament on Thursday, but you definitely can take yourself out of it and lose it, so we took care of what we needed to take care of today.”

He wasn’t playing with a partner. But like some of the other younger players, he affects the plural. Jordan Spieth is another who chooses to say “we” instead of “I.” Wasn’t it Mark Twain who said the use of “we” should be restricted to editors, monarchs and people with worms?

Fowler grew up in Murrieta, Calif., maybe an hour and half east of Los Angeles, and raced dirt bikes. He earned a golf scholarship to Oklahoma State, and on weekends at tournaments he often wears the school’s orange and black.

The plan Thursday was to dress in blue. But the death from cancer 24 hours earlier of the Australian tour pro Jarrod Lyle, a close friend of Fowler’s, was reason enough for Rickie to wear yellow, Australia’s national color, to celebrate Lyle’s life.

“It’s been fun thinking about him while we’re out there playing,” Fowler said, referring to Lyle, “because he probably would be the one to kind of kick you in the butt it you started feeling sad or bad. He would give you a hard time.”

The golf critics have given Fowler enough of a hard time. He was the No. 1 amateur in the world for 37 weeks during 2007-08, and when he turned pro the expectations were overwhelming — and possibly intimidating. He was PGA Tour Rookie of the Year in 2010, and yet there’s that lack of a major victory.

“You can’t force the issue,” said Fowler, who then reverted to the plural adding, “and it relates to some of our game plan and how we’re going about this week. I don’t have to play special to win.”

Fowler is a professed St. Louis Cardinals baseball fan, and that hasn’t hurt the way he’s been received by the fans, who were out in force on a steamy day when the temperature reached 90.

“I feel I have a great following with people having some ties to Oklahoma State. I feel there’s some kind of a Midwest connection, and definitely being a Cardinals fans and supporter, it’s great to be here and feel the love.”

What he hopes to feel is the trophy and the elation of a win in a major.

“It’s not necessarily something I worry about,” he said. “Keep getting in contention. We’ll just keep beating down that door.”

Tiger’s Bellerive memories: 9/11 and a different type of long drive

By Art Spander

ST. LOUIS — The drive was a literal one for Tiger Woods, in a car — the only transportation available in a country that had shut down all flights — and it turned out one that provided time for thought.

The PGA Championship, the 100th, begins Thursday at Bellerive Country Club, just west of the Mississippi River. They’ve had previous majors at Bellerive, the 1965 U.S. Open, and the 1978 PGA.

Yet it was a tournament they didn’t have at Bellerive that remains meaningful for Woods.

And, in a way, America.

The 2001 American Express Championship, cancelled because of the 9/11 terrorist attacks the Tuesday of tournament week, the day that Tiger would play a practice round with Mark Calcavecchia, at virtually the same time several hundred miles to the northeast, jets were being crashed into the Twin Towers in New York.

The tournament could not go on. Woods was one of the millions unable to travel by air. On Wednesday, September 12, he drove 17 hours back to Florida. “It was a very surreal time, at least for me for me anyways,” said Woods.

A surreal time, and a time for reflection. On that trip Woods made the decision to revise the purpose of the Tiger Woods Foundation, shifting from an emphasis on golf — “a traveling circus,” said Tiger — to an emphasis on education. “And behold, we have 53 different curriculums.”

Woods has yet to play a competitive round at Bellerive. He missed the 2008 BMW, qualifier for the FedEx Cup, after his knee went out in the U.S. Open. “Yeah,” he said Tuesday, “I literally hadn’t stepped foot on the golf course since the week in 2001.”

And the footsteps he finally took were soggy and limited. One of those massive Midwest thunderstorms hit the region in late morning, suspending play and closing the course to spectators for several hours.

This is the new Tiger, the pro who at 43, after the back surgeries and rehab, is at least back as a golfer — “I’m blessed,” he insisted — if not as a front runner.

While he’ll always be a competitor, one wonders if he still should be called competitive.

He made a run, yes, at the British Open two and a half weeks ago, and then had a good start at last week’s Bridgestone, but at the end, where we used to find Woods at the top, he is fifth or sixth or 15th.

His presence will always be a factor. There’s only one Tiger, even if it’s not the Tiger we once knew.

“When I was playing well there for over a better part of a decade,” said Woods, when asked about preparation then and now, “it was the same thought process. The whole idea was to try and get a feel for the golf course and how it’s playing that week, but more than anything to make sure I was fresh and ready to go on Thursday.”

Yet being ready does not necessarily mean being productive. He’s not the golfer he used to be, which even for a superstar who arguably was one of the greatest ever is a matter of growing older.

His scoring average on the back nine in recent tournaments is a stroke higher than on the front nine. “I wish I could figure it out,” said Woods. “I don’t know what it is. If I had an answer, I would give it to you. But I really don’t know.”

What we all know is that in recent majors, even when Woods has a burst reminding us of his play of some 15 years ago, there’s one bad swing — the 3-iron at the 10th hole at Carnoustie leading to the double-bogey — or one missed putt.

Still, two years ago he wouldn’t even have been in the field.

“Well, just the fact that I’m playing the tour again — to have the opportunity again — it’s a dream come true,” said Woods. “I said this many times this year. I didn’t know I could do this again. And lo and behold, here I am.”

Here he is, for a real round at Bellerive. Finally.

This British Open is McIlroy’s chance for redemption

  CARNOUSTIE, Scotland— He spoke about bringing a thesaurus to the next press conference. Rory McIlroy was in a debate about how to describe the virtually indescribable but very difficult last four holes at Carnoustie. He’d be better off bringing a two-shot lead.

   There’s McIlroy, high on the leaderboard halfway through this British Open, in position to overtake the few men in front of him. Or to fail once more.

   In a light rain that made the Open feel like the Open, if with all the low scores not seem like one, McIlroy on Friday shot a second straight  2-under par 69.  He had only one bogey. “I’m pretty pleased with that,” he said.

    Something pleasing at a major golf tournament, finally, perhaps temporarily. He fell apart the final round of the Masters, going head-to-head in the final twosome against the eventual winner, Patrick Reed. He missed the cut in the U. S. Open.

  Now it is time for redemption, time to shake off the criticism, to show he once more is the man who thrilled as a kid, winning the British Open, the U.S. Open and twice winning the PGA Championship by the age of 25.

  The more you do, of course, the more the world wants you to do.

    “The more success you have,” said McIlroy the day before the Open began, “the more pressure you put on yourself because of expectations.”

     His expectations. Our expectations.

    “Rory’s obviously played well this year,” said Padraig Harrington, a statement that is accurate if one win and a second on two different tours means playing well.

  “Clearly,” said Harrington, “his career is solely based on how he does in the majors.”

   As is Tiger Woods career. As is Phil Mickelson’s career. As was Jack Nicklaus career.

  For Joe Montana and Tom Brady the standard is winning Super Bowls. For the Warrior stars, Steph Curry, Kevin Durant and teammates, it’s winning NBA titles. Something has to be used as the yardstick for greatness.

    “I was on a nice run there, from 2011 to 2014,” said McIlroy. “I haven’t won one since. But I’m trying.”

    In the British Isle where the attitude invariably is “us against them,” McIlroy has been elevated to celebrity status, his life as well as his golf covered microscopically like some Hollywood figure—and not just because Rory’s from Holywood, which in Northern Ireland is pronounced “Hollywood.”

    The Sun, the British tabloid, carried a story in May headlined, “McIlroy: ‘Wife pulled me out of wine-drinking, TV-binging Masters malaise.”

  According to the story, McIlroy said “he had to be dragged out of the house by wife Erica after spending a full week brooding on his final-round flop at the Masters . . . once I got back into my routine, I was fine.”

   McIlroy, who needs a Masters victory to become only the sixth golfer in history to win all of the four Grand Slam tournaments, was within a short eagle putt of tying Reed on the second hole.

  The ball didn’t fall. McIlroy did, however, and he ended p tying for fifth, six shots back. “I just didn’t quite have it,” he would say that say.”

  Maybe not as bad as 2011, when McIlroy, then 22, blew a four-shot lead he carried into the Masters final round but still a me memory that haunts, a memory of which he’s too often reminded.

  As we’re aware, in sports, you’re only as good—or bad—as your last game. Or match. Or maybe in this Open, last round.  Rory said he Is not playing to cement a legacy. Oh, but he is, every time he tees it up in a major. There’s no escape from his reputation.

“I feel very comfortable out there,” McIlroy explained when asked about his golf. “I had been worrying about the result, not the process.

  “Even if I don’t play my best golf and don’t shoot the scores I want, I’m going to go down swinging. I’m going to go down giving it my best.”

  That’s all we can ask.

Whatever happened to the real British Open?

 CARNOUSTIE, Scotland—Whatever happened to the real British Open? Did it miss a turn on the A92 and end up in Broughty Ferry? Did it tumble off the Tay Bridge. I mean the British Open, one where the rain drenches, the wind howls and the shots that don’t bounce into the rough fly into bunkers.

  A tournament that was supposed to be the Open, the 147^th, began Thursday, but it was a poor facsimile. This one the sun was shining, the putts were dropping and there were so many rounds under par—including , for a while that of Tiger Woods—it was unreall.

   Carnoustie, next to the North Sea, is reputed to be the most difficult course in the Open rota. A young South African, in his first Open, Erik van Rooyen, playing in his first Open may not believe that.

  “It was playing as easy as it was going to play all week,” said van Rooyen.  “You had to take advantage of it.”

  And he and many others did just that. Kevin Kisner, a University of Georgia guy who was overtaken by Justin Thomas in last year’s PGA Championship, shot a 5-under par 66 for the lead, a shot in front of van Rooyen, Tony Finau and somebody named Zander Lombard, another South African.

   Hey, arguably the greatest South African golfer ever, Gary Player, won at Carnoustie 50 years ago, 1968. That Open was miserably genuine, with conditions so unpleasant and demanding even the legendary Jack Nicklaus couldn’t reach the green of the 16^th hole, a 220-yard par-3, using a driver.

  This opening round there were problems—even when Scotland resembles Samoa,  people make mistakes—but they were not the norm., Day One was hardly a walk spoiled. Even 60-year-old Sandy Lyle, in the tournament as the 1985 champion, shot even par the front nine, before fading on the more difficult back.

  “You never know what the weather is going to hold,” said Kisner, alluding to the next three rounds, with rain predicted. ”You’re always going to try and get in as low as you can, because you never know about the next day.”

  You never know about Tiger Woods either. He was 2-under par through 11, and, well, he had said the Open could be the place to earn that 15^th major, because the ball rolls on the hard, almost-barren-fairways. He could keep up with the big hitters.

  But this isn’t 10 years ago. Woods has gone through a lot, physically, with the back surgeries and emotionally for other reasons. He mishits a ball, now and then and even when Carnoustie is kind, there are bogies lurking.

 “I played better than what the score indicates,” said Woods, a lament heard by golfers of all classes, “because I had -- I had two 8-irons into both par 5s today, and I end up with par on both of those. If I just clean up those two holes and play them the way I'm supposed to play them with  an 8 iron in my hand, I think I'd probably have the best round in the afternoon wave.”

  “Ah yes, “if.”

  “So it certainly could have been a little bit better.”

  Jordan Spieth, last year’s winner—the Champion Golfer of the Year is how he’s known—was 3-under through 14. Then, he would confess, “It was a really poor decision on the second shot that cost me.”  Big time.

  A double bogey 6 at 15, followed by bogies at 16 and 17. He finished with a one-over 72.

  “I’ve done a bit of that this year,” said Spieth, “decision making that cost me.”

  That occurs whatever weather nature sends.

  Jhonattan Vegas played at the University of Texas and has won on the PGA Tour. He’s a Venezuelan, and that created a major problem for this major championship.

  He intended to fly to Scotland earlier in the week but his visa for entry into Britain had expired and a new one had been delayed in processing. So at the last minute he had fly from Houston, where he resides, to Toronto then to Glasgow, where he boarded a helicopter to Carnoustie, some 70 miles away.

  There was no space for his tournament clubs, so he used a make-shift-set assembled by the manufacturer he endorses, Taylor Made, teed off around 10:30—and shot 76

A visa problem is not the usual hazard at Carnoustie, or any Open.”

Tiger’s thoughts about winning this British: ‘Who knows?’

CARNOUSTIE, Scotland—Who knows? That was the question asked by Tiger Woods. Of himself.

  Who knows if Tiger, well past his 43^rd birthday, is able to win this 147^th British Open? Is able to win any golf tournament, major or not?.

  Who knows if the weather, warm, inviting for all Great Britain, indeed for most of Western Europe, will hold for another week or instead with wind and rain turn the Open into the challenge it was meant to be.

  For a while, at St. Andrews, then at Hoylake, Tiger Woods owned the Open, shooting record scores. But that was then, before the emergence of Jordan Spieth and Rory McIlroy. Before the back surgeries, which made Woods a spectator instead of an entrant.

   Now, at Carnoustie, “Car-nasty,”  north of St. Andrews, across the Firth of Tay, in Angus, Woods returns to the Open after an absence of two years, a man of experience and doubt, not a favorite but still the focus,

   To ESPN, he’s the only man on the course, any course, any event. To both the purist and the casual fan he’s the eternal unanswered query: “Is Tiger Woods going to win another major?”

   The sarcastic response would be, not with Brooks Koepka or Patrick Reed, Dustin Johnson or Justin Thomas in the field. But golf is different than any sport except bowling. There’s no defense. The only effect you have on an opponent is psychological.

   Tiger was on the media room stage Tuesday, facing the skeptics, who as every tournament he plays-- the Open, which starts Thursday is his 12^th of 2018—wonder how much trust should be placed on Woods’ chances. How’s his swing? More importantly, how’s his confidence?

“Each tournament I keep coming back to,” Woods said, perhaps as much to persuade himself as anyone, “I keep feeling a little bit better because I’m starting to play golf again. My feels are much better than they were at the beginning of the year.

 “I have a better understanding of my game and my body and my swing, much more so than I did at Augusta.”

That’s the Masters, in April, where he tied for 32^nd.  Two months later, the U.S. Open, at Shinnecock Hills, a more punishing course than Augusta National, Woods missed the cut, but so did Spieth, McIlroy and Sergio Garcia.

    A couple after  that, the Quicken Loans event, Tiger tied for fourth.

  He’s changed putters for the British. He’s modified his swing, if only slightly. Everything, he insisted, is a little better. It should be by the middle of July, after weeks on different courses in different locations.

  “I’ve put myself up there in contention a couple of times,” said Woods. “I just need to play some cleaner golf and who knows?”

   The Open is links golf, always played on the hard, fast fairways of linksland, along the coasts of Britain  that thousands of years ago were under the Atlantic Ocean or North Sea.

  It is golf played along the ground, with balls rolling forever, golf that demands creativity, golf Tiger said he relishes, hitting a low-running iron 250 t0 300 yards, golf that enables an older player such as Tom Watson in 2009 at Turnberry when he was 59 and lost in a playoff, to keep up with the young guns.

“I’ve always loved playing links golf,” said Woods. “Feel has a lot to do with winning the Open. I think the guys traditionally over the years who have done well have been wonderful feel players and because it can be difficult to get the ball close, wonderful lag putters.”

   Guys like Watson, who won five Opens; guys like Gary Player, who won three, including here at Carnoustie in 1968; and guys like Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer, Lee Trevino and Seve Ballesteros won two apiece.

  “There definitely were points in time,” said Woods referring to his post-surgical recovery, “I thought I’d never play in this championship again. Watching it on TV is great, but it’s better in person. I remember how it feels to come down to the last hole with a chance to win. “

  Will he ever have that feeling again? As he said, who knows?

Wimbledon’s last act: An anticlimax starring Djokovic

By Art Spander

WMBLEDON, England — In this land where Shakespeare wrote, “This blessed plot, this realm, this England,” Wimbledon 2018 went against the basic rule of theatre and fiction.

After a fantastic build-up, hours of suspense and history, the conclusion to the tale was anti-climatic.

Not because Novak Djokovic triumphed — he’s a one-man show full of subplots — but that his 6-2, 6-2, 7-6 (3) victory over a weary Kevin Anderson in the final Sunday was hardly what we had hoped.

Although it’s probably what many expected.

It was flat and lifeless, a dreary contrast to the semifinals, which were wonderfully competitive if, in this modern age of instant gratification, a bit too long — well, more than a bit.

Anderson needed 6 hours, 36 minutes for his win over John Isner in one semi, finishing 26-24 in the fifth set; Djokovic needed 5 hours 16 minutes (and two days) to get past Rafael Nadal, finishing 10-8 in the fifth set. How do you top that?

You don’t. You get too overly tired players, if one, Djokovic, now a four-time Wimbledon winner and 13-time Grand Slam winner, has the pedigree and the better all-around game. And no less significantly, as he mentioned, the experience in Wimbledon finals.

It’s not fair, perhaps, to describe the game of the 6-foot-8 Anderson, a South African who played for the University of Illinois and lives in Florida, as the tennis version of a one-note samba. But his strength is his serve. And against Djokovic, one of best returners ever, Anderson’s strength was a weakness.

Serving to open the match on yet another glorious 85-degree afternoon, Anderson was broken. You sensed his opportunity was, too. “Novak beat up on me pretty bad,” said Anderson. He now has been in two Slam finals, losing in the 2017 U.S Open to Nadal.

From 2013 through early 2016, Djokovic, now 31, owned men’s tennis, Of the 16 Grand Slams over that period he won seven and was in five other finals. He won four in a row, starting with the 2015 U.S. Open through the 2016 French.

Then at the 2016 Wimbledon, he hurt his elbow. That, along with some coaching changes — Boris Becker out, Andre Agassi out — and rumored family problems, dropped him into a void.

Djokovic finally underwent surgery on the elbow in February.

“After that, I had a really good recovery,” he said. “I thought maybe too fast. I wasn’t ready to compete ... It took me several months to regain the confidence, go back to basics. I had to trust the process ... Playing against Nadal in the semifinals here was the biggest test that I could have, specifically for that, just to see if I could prevail.”

Djokovic is from Serbia, and while he speaks English well he tends to sound as if the words were linked together by, no, not Shakespeare, but a government employee — if one with the great ability to cover every inch of a tennis court.

He was aware of his opponent’s tactics — and tiredness, although Djokovic had fewer than 24 hours to recover from the Nadal semi.

“I knew Kevin spent plenty of time on the court in the quarters (a five-set win over Roger Federer) and semis, marathon wins. I did too. He had a day to recover. But at the same time, I knew it was his first Wimbledon finals, and it really is a different sensation when you’re in the finals.

“It was my fifth, and I tried to use that experience, that mental edge that I have, to start off the right way. The first game, I made a break of serve that was a perfect possible start. After that, I cruised for two sets.”

Anderson, 32, conceded he was nervous. And he said his body “didn’t feel great.”

Nor did the match, which required only 2 hours, 19 minutes (Anderson’s fifth set against Isner alone was some three hours).

“I didn’t play great tennis in the beginning,” said Anderson. “I definitely felt much better in the third set. I thought I had quite a few opportunities to win that third set.

“I would have loved to push it to another set, but obviously it wasn’t meant to be.”

Serena: ‘Two weeks of Wimbledon showed me the end of the road'

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — No, that wasn’t the Serena we knew. That was the Serena who had given birth via Caesarian section only 10 months ago, the Serena who, because of her skill and intensity, made such great progress in a comeback in so short a time that we were fooled into thinking she was as good as ever.

Which, as we learned, she isn’t. But then isn’t that what she kept telling us?

She was in her element Saturday, on the grass courts where she had won seven championships. And yet she was a new mother, a working mother, working to regain the power and touch that made her a champion.

Everything had gone so perfectly this Wimbledon, the top seeds, the big guns, the upsets of defending champ Garbiñe Muguruza and No. 1-ranked Simona Halep. And suddenly there was Williams, two months before her 37th birthday, in the final.

But Kerber had won the Australian and French Opens, and two years ago she lost to Serena in the Wimbledon final. After that she stumbled, lost early in the Slams, fell in the rankings. Tennis people wondered what was wrong.

Whatever was wrong isn’t wrong any more.

Kerber, lashing shots, keeping Williams on the move, breaking serve the very first game of the match, making only five unforced errors compared to 24 for Serena, needed only 1 hour, 5 minutes to score a decisive 6-3, 6-3 victory.

That wasn’t expected. Maybe it should have been.

“It was a great opportunity for me to find out what I didn’t know a couple of months ago,” said Williams. “Where I was, and what I need to do, how I would be able to come back. I had such a long way to go to see the light at the end of the road. The two weeks of Wimbledon showed me the end of the road.”

As opposed to the end of a career.

“She played from the first point to the last point pretty good,” said Serena of the 30-year-old Kerber. “She played unbelievably.”

As the match progressed, or regressed, if you choose, John McEnroe said on BBC TV, “Normally Serena doesn’t beat herself.” But she wasn’t. Kerber was beating Serena.

Now and then there would be a cry of desperation from the stands, “Come on, Serena.” That wasn’t any more helpful than Williams’ relatively ineffective serve.   

The issue here may be our disbelief. Even at the top of their game, great athletes and sportsman have their failings. Tom Brady throws interceptions. Klay Thompson can’t throw a ball into the ocean, much less a rim.

And right now Serena, who embraced Kerber at the net after the final point, is not at the top of her game. She’ll attempt to get there once more, but as was apparent against Kerber it will take time and great effort.

“I knew I had to play my best against a champion like Serena,” said Kerber. Which she did, and then fell flat on the lawn in exultation. Moments later she was handed the trophy, the Venus Rosewater Plate, while Williams stood on the edge of the court in a scene so rare, a spectator rather than a participant.

“It was such an amazing tournament for me,” Williams would say in reflection. ”Obviously I’m disappointed. But I can’t be disappointed because I’m just getting started. To all the working moms out there, I tried. Angelique just played out of her mind.”

Analyzing on BBC-TV, nine-time Wimbledon champion Martina Navratilova said, ”Serena played the best player in the tournament, by far.”

And Billie Jean King, a multiple Wimbledon winner, pointed out, “Kerber always got one more ball back.”

In the royal box were actual royalty, the Duchess of Cambridge and the new Duchess of Sussex, Meghan Markle, as well as long-time Serena pal Jelena Djokovic, whose husband, Novak, beat Rafael Nadal to reach Sunday’s men’s final.

“These two weeks,” said Serena of the Wimbledon fortnight, “really showed me, OK, I can compete. I can come out and be a contender and win Grand Slams.”

As she used to do, and as Angelique Kerber just did.

In a record 6 hours, 36 minutes, Anderson wins Wimbledon semi

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — It was a fantastic match, an amazing match, and perhaps an unfortunate match, a tennis battle that, because Wimbledon has its own rules — no tiebreaker in the fifth set — and because Kevin Anderson and John Isner, old pals, served brilliantly and rallied courageously, may force a change at the All England Club.

Anderson won it, as you surely know, finding a place with Isner, the Marathon Man, as part of history and, with the remarkable 7-6 (6), 6-7 (5), 6-7 (9), 6-4, 26-24 semifinal victory Friday, finding a place in the final.

The two of them played 6 hours, 36 minutes, a record for both a semi and for Centre Court, but because Isner was involved in that ridiculous 11-hour, three-day match against Nicolas Mahut in 2018, not a record for the tournament.

Isner, 33, won that one, and leading two sets to one and seemingly always in front appeared destined to win this one and become the first American in a Wimbledon final since Andy Roddick in 2009. But it was not to be.

Anderson, a South African who lives in Florida and has applied for U.S. citizenship, came up with the key points, including one in a last set that itself lasted just five minutes short of three hours when he fell, lost his racket and hit a shot lefthanded.

Yet Anderson, 32, who spent time at the University of Illinois and has known Isner since John played at the University of Georgia, was not particularly effusive about reaching the final.

“I apologize,” Anderson said about his reaction. “John’s such a great guy. He’s really pushed me through my career, and I pushed myself harder because of the success he’s had.”

This was a battle between the sport’s big men, literally, the 6-foot-10 Isner and the 6-8 Anderson, two with huge serves and huge staying power. Every time it seemed one had the match, the other would rebound with a service ace or remarkable return. Isner had 53 aces, Anderson had 49.

But Anderson had the win and makes it to his second Grand Slam final. He was runner-up to Rafael Nadal at the 2017 U.S. Open.

Nadal and Novak Djokovic had to wait — and wait and wait — to start their semifinal because the Anderson-Isner match kept going. A fan screamed out during the first match, “Get off and let Rafa get on.”

But by the time Rafa and Novak got on, it was nearly dark, and the roof, which was completed before the 2009 tournament so play could go on in the rain, was closed and the lights turned on.

Djokovic and Nadal, both Wimbledon champions, had to wait impatiently in the locker room while Anderson and Isner went on and on, not knowing whether to grab some food or stay warmed up.

Isner never had been past the third round at Wimbledon until this year — someone nicknamed it “John’s House of Horrors” — and then, after winning the second third sets in tiebreakers, was one set from the final. He couldn’t make it.

“I’m just disappointed,” said Isner. “I came pretty close to making a Grand Slam final. I competed hard. I’m proud of that. But it stinks to lose. He was a little bit better in the end.

“One thing he was doing better was winning the big points. He broke me at four-all in the fourth set. I would like my chances in a tiebreaker.”

What he did have was a blister on his heel, but that didn’t seem to bother him as much as Anderson’s game.

“I don’t know what to say right now,” was Anderson’s comment when the BBC grabbed him moments after the final point. “It was really tough on both of us. I feel like it was a draw. I really feel for him.”

Anderson also feels that Wimbledon, alone among the four Grand Slams, has to forego playing a fifth set and go to a tiebreaker. In his BBC commentary, John McEnroe, a former Wimbledon champion, kept pushing that idea during the fifth set.

“Maybe this will make a difference,” said McEnroe. “It’s unfair the way it is now.”

Not only because the players wear down, but because the winning player feels the effects in his next match.

Isner was in agreement. “Maybe they play to 12-12, then go to a tiebreak,” he said.

And no, John didn’t want to talk about the 11-hour match eight years ago that ended 70-68. “I’m trying my hardest to forget it,” he said.

That will be easier than forgetting this one.

Serena into the Wimbledon final: a matter of presence

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — They talk about the serve, and it is a powerful one, the Hammer, like a Steph Curry jumper, a Max Scherzer fastball. They talk about the quickness and the ability to cover the court. But maybe what gives Serena Williams the real advantage is presence.

She’s a champion, of course, in effect the sport’s goddess. Everyone knows that, whether battling her or talking about her.   

It’s as intangible and important as any shot she hits.

To the other players, it doesn’t matter if she missed months while pregnant and underwent a Caesarian. It doesn’t matter if this Wimbledon, where Friday she’ll he playing in the finals — go ahead, say you knew it all along — is only the fourth tournament of her comeback. 

“She’s hard to beat,” Martina Navratilova, who as a nine-time Wimbledon winner was equally as hard, said on the BBC.

Two years ago John McEnroe, a damn good player himself and no less an excellent commentator and analyst — Stanford doesn’t admit dummies — said Serena was the best women’s player in history. If not, she’s very much in the mix.

Serena took on one of the game’s improving young stars Thursday in a semifinal at Centre Court, Julia Goerges, who probably played as well as possible — even breaking Williams’ serve once. Williams was a comfortable 6-2, 6-4 winner. The match took 1 hour 10 minutes. Zap.

When someone asked Goerges, a 29-year-old German, if that result was frustrating, she did one of those “Let me escape” responses and answered, “I think frustrating is a negative word. I should not be too negative about the match. It was more about experience ... She knew how to win.”

Serena always did know. Always will know. She’s an intimidator, a destroyer. The weeks away haven’t made a difference to Serena, or to the young ladies she plays.

Also in the final, for the second time in three years, a repeat of the 2016 championship match, will be Angelique Kerber. Williams is seeking an eighth Wimbledon, a 24th Grand Slam.

Williams is not just another female athlete who left for a while to have a baby. This is a legend, with that monster serve — one was clocked at 122 mph against Goerges — and an ability to make returns.

“She was there from every single point,” said Goerges about the last set. “She showed me how to win those matches at that stage, because I think she’s won 23 Grand Slams and played I don’t know how many times on that court, which I haven’t done.”

Neither has the 30-year-old Kerber, who’s also from Germany, but Kerber has won the Australian Open (over Serena) and the French, and was runner-up in that 2016 Wimbledon final, Serena’s last match here until this year.

Asked about Serena, Kerber said, “I see a champion. She’s coming back. She’s one of the great players in the world.”

That item confirmed, Williams, to her credit is guarded, choosing not to remind us of her talent but allowing her play to do so.

She had been in just three previous tournaments since daughter Olympia was born in September, and without the opportunity to accumulate points her WTA ranking had plummeted to 181st. But the Wimbledon people were not fooled. They gave Williams a seeding, 23. Very wise.

And now, they not only have a potentially exciting final but the one name in women’s tennis that resonates on both sides of the Atlantic, Serena Williams. And lucky they do.

“It’s no secret, I had a super-tough delivery,” said Williams. ”The routine was to have a new surgery every day ... There was a time I could barely walk to the mailbox. A lot of people were saying, ‘She should be in the final. For me, it’s such a pleasure and joy because less than a year ago I was going through so much rough stuff.”

Serena said she thought she would have done better in the earlier tournaments, even at age 35 and away from tennis.

“I wouldn’t say it was a reality check,” she said of the stumbles. “I look at as a stepping stone. I honestly felt I would have done better. That was the hardest part, accepting that I didn’t. Whenever I go out there, I expect to win the next match.”

She’s not alone.

Federer on his loss: ‘I’m not sure what happened’

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — He sounded as bewildered as the rest of us. Sure, it’s happened before, a favorite squandering a lead, breaking bad — and that’s the key phrase here — when it’s all going so good, Arnold Palmer throwing away a seven-shot lead in a U.S. Open, the Falcons falling apart after going in front by 25 points in Super Bowl LI.

But not Roger Federer. Not the acknowledged greatest tennis player ever. Not at Wimbledon, where he had won the men’s singles seven times. Not against Kevin Anderson, whom he’d beaten the four times they’d ever met.

There was Roger on Wednesday, coasting, breezing, playing with the grace and skill we — and he — would expect, even a month before his 37th birthday.

Two sets ahead, a lead in the third, one point from his fifth straight semifinals, from his 12th in 15 Wimbledons overall. And then?

“After that,” he would confess, “I’m not sure what happened.”

On the scoreboard, what happened was Anderson, the big guy (6-foot-8) from South Africa (he lives in Florida and has applied for U.S. citizenship), stunned Federer, 2-6, 6-7, 7-5, 6-4, 13-11.

A mini-marathon, 4 hours, 14 minutes. A maxi-surprise.

“I’m up two sets to one,” said a chastened Federer. “It’s all good, so... At that point, I wasn’t thinking of losing.”

But he lost. He lost for only the second time in a Wimbledon match after winning the first two sets (Jo-Wilfred Tsonga beat him 3-6, 6-7, 6-4, 6-4, 6-4). He lost after having his serve broken for the first time at Wimbledon since last year’s semi against Tomas Berdych, 85 games.

“I was very happy that I got off to the right start,” said Federer, “as I was able to take control of the game.”

It’s the end that counts in sports. It’s how you finish. And Anderson, who had 28 service aces — 11 in the fifth set, which lasted for an hour and a half — was able to finish off Federer.

“I think I had my chances,” said Federer, “so it’s disappointing. No doubt about it. I just don’t know exactly how I couldn’t create more opportunities once the third set came around. He was consistent. He was solid. Credit to him for hanging around that long.”

Anderson, who through the second set had dropped all 10 sets he’d ever played against the Swiss master starting in 2013, will take that credit and take his spot in the semis against an American, John Isner, who beat the Canadian Milos Raonic.

“It felt great to get that match.” said Anderson. ”I mean, the toughest thing players face when playing somebody like Roger in this setting is giving yourself a chance.”

Even if nobody else gave him a chance.

“Again,” said Anderson, who spent a year at the University of Illinois, “I really hope it’s an example of sticking to your dreams.”

More importantly, sticking to your plan. A day earlier, he told a writer from Metro, the free London paper, “I feel like a lot of aspects of my game can give him a lot of trouble. I’m a big player, big serve. I’m going to have to really take it to him.”

In truth, Anderson took it from Federer, took away the opportunity to add a 20th Grand Slam title to his record.

“That has nothing to do with my opponent,” Federer would contend, when of course it did have a great deal to do with his opponent. Anderson didn’t melt under the Federer spell — “Roger, Roger” was the scream at Centre Court. Anderson was resolute.

“It was just one of those days where you hope to get by,” said Federer. “Somehow, I almost could have.”

Almost, that’s the word so often used by the people who play Federer. They had him. Then they didn’t have him. Then he hit the great passing shot, the great serve.

“I didn’t feel mental fatigue,” said Federer. “Now I feel horribly fatigued. It’s just awful. But that’s how it goes.”

It’s legitimate to wonder where Federer will go. He said he’ll return to Wimbledon, but it won’t be as defending champion, as the virtually unbeatable star.

“Today,” said Federer, “I had moments where I was great. I felt like I was reading his serve, other moments where I don’t know where the hell I was moving.”

He knows now. He was moving out of Wimbledon.

Serena, into the semis, vows to ‘keep going’

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — This is what champions do: They reach back, to their past, to their strength. They may struggle. They might fall behind. Then they find a way to win. Which is the reason they are champions.

From the start, when the top seeds were losing one after another, this Wimbledon seemed to belong to Serena Williams. Until the first set of Tuesday’s quarterfinal.

That was taken by Camila Giorgi of Italy, who just happens to serve as hard as Serena.

Down a set, down 0-30 on her serve in a game in the second set, scattering returns, still not tournament ready some 10 months after the birth of her daughter, Williams was in trouble. Or was she?

“No,” said Serena. ”It’s weird. Sometimes I feel, man, I’m in trouble. Sometimes I feel I can fight. For whatever reason, today I was so calm. Even when I was down the first set I thought, ‘Well, she’s playing great. I’m doing a lot of things right. It is what it is.’”

What it turned out to be was a 3-6, 6-3, 6-4 victory for Serena, who when she faces Julia Goerges on Thursday will be playing in her 11th Wimbledon semifinal. Goerges defeated Kiki Bertens, 3-6, 7-5, 6-1.

The other semi will be between Jelena Ostapenko, who beat Dominka Cibulkova, 7-5, 6-4, and Angelique Kerber, a 6-3, 7-5 winner over Daria Kasatkina.

Before she became pregnant and left the game, Serena, with seven Wimbledon titles and 23 Grand Slam championships overall, unquestionably was the best women’s player in the sport. But she was away for months, and she’s almost 37. No one knew what to expect, including Serena.

“I think everything right now is a little bit of a surprise,” advised Williams. “To be here, to be in the semifinals, I mean I always say I plan on it. I would like to be there, have these goals. But when it actually happens, it still is like, wow, this is really happening.”

There’s a devious, realistic side to Serena, along with the gee-whiz-ain’t-this-unusual talk. She spoke about being a role model, to her daughter Alexis and other children, and in many ways — as an African-American woman who has worked her way to the top of a mostly white sport — she is.

Yet, as noted and heard that evening at the U.S. Open not too many years ago, when she berated a line judge for calling a foot fault, she can swear with the best — or worst — of anyone. She’s tough, physically, emotionally, verbally. That’s also part of being a champion.

You don’t go on year after year — she won her first Wimbledon in 2002 — without intensity. You go after an opponent. Now and then, you go after an official.

Or did. Mother Serena has compartmentalized her priorities. She says she is prepared for both life and tennis as they are, not what they used to be.

“It’s different now, obviously,” said Serena, “because I have the baby. Being a mom is totally different. Still have to think. ‘Wow, I’m a mom.’ Every day is different for me. Just having an opportunity to win, win matches, just matches in general, with a daughter at home.”

The fire still burns, however.

Asked about her apparent attitude change, Serena — at Wimbledon, she’s called and listed as “Mrs. Williams,” although her husband’s name is Ohanian — said that could be impermanent.

“No, just to be clear, that was just today,” she said of the relaxed approach. “I mean I’m hoping this is like a new thing. I highly doubt it. It was just the way I felt today; I never felt it was out of my hands. I can’t describe it. I just felt calm. Hoping I can channel it, but one day at a time.”

These have to be great days. With a lack of play and lack of points, she dropped to 183rd in the WTA rankings. With the comeback victory over Giorgi, Serena has leaped to 51.

“Well,” she mused, “it’s better than 183. Got to keep tracking on. Serena Williams, 51. It doesn’t have that same ring to it. The ‘1’ part does, but not the ‘5.’ Keep going.”

For Mackenzie McDonald, the end of Wimbledon could be a beginning

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — It was an end for the kid, Mackenzie McDonald, at Wimbledon. But in truth it was a beginning, a strong one, a step forward in a tennis career of possibility.

“He’s going to have a chance to do well,” said Milos Raonic.

He didn’t do that well on Monday. Which wasn’t a surprise. A former finalist, the No. 13 seed, a man with a thundering serve — there was a 138 mph clocking — Raonic beat McDonald, 6-3, 6-4, 6-7, 6-2.

But McDonald did well in his first Wimbledon, getting through the first week, making it to the fourth round, being a part of Manic Monday with the top guns, Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Serena Williams.

Which maybe wasn’t a surprise either. “He’s solid from the back,” said Raonic, meaning the backcourt.

“I thought I played some really good tennis this week,” 23-year-old Michael Mackenzie Lowe McDonald said in reflection. “Yeah. Just excited. Hopefully it just keeps going.”

McDonald lives and trains in Florida now, at the U.S. Tennis Association complex. But he was born and grew up in Piedmont, Calif., taking lessons from Rosie Bareis and Wayne Ferreira, a 1994 Wimbledon quarterfinalist who is from South Africa but resides in Northern California.

“I used to practice really early in the morning, 6:30,” said McDonald. “Three times a week. I remember in first grade doing it with Rosie. It was a lot of hours. She would sit on a milk carton and drop balls. She was tough on me.”

As we’ve heard, becoming a champion is not easy.

“We had all these running drills,” McDonald remembered. “And jump rope.”

McDonald went to UCLA, won the 2016 NCAA singles champion and then, at 5-foot-10 in a sport with more and more big men, turned pro. As expected, it has been a learning process. Also, against the 6-foot-5 Raonic, a guessing process, wondering where the next ball would land.

“Placement and speed,” said McDonald of what makes Raonic’s serves so effective. “Honestly I had never faced a server like that before. I feel like I’m a good returner, but I have never felt so uncomfortable out there returning.

“I didn’t have one break point. I have never played a match where I have never had a break point before.”

It would be like a batter coming up from Triple A and facing Nolan Ryan. A 138 mph serve by Raonic? “I’ve never faced anything like that,” McDonald confirmed.

But he did face it, did make to the second week, did get to drink in the atmosphere on Middle Sunday, when no fans are allowed and the All England Lawn Tennis Club virtually belongs to the contestants.

“Sunday was really cool," said McDonald. “I hadn’t obviously experienced anything like that. It was nice to have a relaxing day.”

With his name, McDonald would fit in at next week’s British Open golf tournament at Carnoustie, Scotland.

“I’m 25 percent Scottish,” said McDonald about his heritage, “25 percent English and half Chinese.”

The UCLA coach, Billy Martin, a onetime Tour player, told USA Today’s Dan Wolken that he has known McDonald since McDonald was 7 years old and playing in events with Martin’s son. It didn’t hurt that McDonald’s father, Mike, went to UCLA.

A writer asked McDonald whether he or other players took any aspect of Federer’s game after watching the world's No. 1 player.

“I have learned from him,” said McDonald, “but I haven’t studied him ... He’s obviously a great player. He’s efficient, moves well, serves well, does everything the best. So I mean, there is a lot to take from him. I mean, specifically nothing.”

You have or you don’t. Asking others how Federer does it would be like asking how Picasso did it.

How did Mackenzie McDonald do it at his first Wimbledon?

“It’s really a dream come true,” he said. “I hope it’s just a start.”

On Wimbledon’s idle Sunday, the World Cup remains very large

By Art Spander

LONDON — Yes, they’re still holding a tennis tournament here, meaning the London borough of Merton, SW 19 in the postal code (nothing goes ZIP in this country).

Middle Sunday, as it is known, is when the lawns of Wimbledon get a rest.

Maybe the English people, too.

“England’s dreaming,” was headline on the huge wrap-around front page of the The Sunday Times. Not about weaseling out of Brexit, two years after voting to get out of the European Union. Dreaming, of course, about the World Cup.

The dreamers, however, do not include the executives of the All England Club, who are doing their best — and failing — to hold their event in a vacuum, not allowing the soccer matches to be shown on Wimbledon’s big-screen television outside Court One.

On Saturday, when Rafael Nadal led the way into the second week, the fans who didn’t flee Wimbledon to catch England’s 2-0 quarterfinal win over Sweden in nearby pubs peered at their tablets or iPhones anywhere the game was being streamed.

The roars that carried around the grounds had nothing to with service aces or great forehands. They were for the goals some 1,500 miles away in Russia by Dele Alli and Harry Maguire.

It’s their event, Wimbledon, and certainly they’re allowed to do with it what they want.

On a smaller scale, there have been teams in America that refused to permit the TV sets in their stadiums to be switched to a sport other than their own.  

England, Britain, is like an early 1950s United States. In the Kensington and Chelsea section, maybe a mile from famed Harrods department store, young men — some of them quite wealthy, obviously — rev the engines of their Ferraris. Aston-Martins, Jags and Benzes, tearing out in a squeal of rubber. You might call it a royal version of American Graffiti.

That isn’t the reason many of the players and media, who would stay at the then very convenient Gloucester Hotel, have shifted to Wimbledon, roughly eight miles to the southwest. The stars, Nadal, Roger Federer, Serena Williams, need convenience and, in these days of aggressive fans and social media, privacy. They rent homes not far from the tennis courts.

Twenty-five years ago, you might go to dinner at a late-night eatery on the corner of Gloucester and Harrington, Dino’s — it’s gone, but the neon sign still clings to the building — and see Gabriela Sabatini. Now she would be sequestered in SW 19.

The World Cup always interjects itself into Wimbledon every four years, but Wimbledon never even blinked. Until now. Until England, a surprise as the Cup moved along, suddenly had a genuine chance to win for the first time since 1966.

That final was in London, against Germany. A mere generation after the end of World War II, 21 years. Emotions were high in England, still recovering from the Blitz. An editorial in the Daily Mail the morning of the championship game began, “If Germany beat us this afternoon in our national game, we can always point out to them twice we have beaten them at theirs.”

Sport and politics never are inseparable. Hitler used the 1936 Olympics to glorify Nazi Germany. The success of the Boca Juniors helped keep Peron in power in Argentina. The happy days in Russia with the Cup were well scripted.

“This may be the best of the World Cups,” wrote Matt Dickinson in the London Times, of this competition in Russia. “It might also be a ‘well-scripted charade whose roots go back to Berlin in 1936.’” He was quoting Gary Kasparov, the chess champion and vehement opponent of Russian president Vladimir Putin.

”The football here,” said another Putin critic, “has been Putin’s friend.”

The Game transcends all. It keeps politicians in power. It keeps Wimbledon on edge. The Championships are an afterthought to the success of the England World Cup team.

Wimbledon: It’s your baby, Serena

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — It’s your baby, Serena. This Wimbledon is all but yours. There may be a week to go, but most of the names and virtually all of the top ten seeds among the women have gone.

Underdogs are fine. In football and basketball, not tennis, a sport as dependent on name recognition as a solid forehand. Nobody wants Roger Federer to lose, especially tournament sponsors.

Serena — Mrs. Williams, according to the 18th-century concepts of the All-England Club, even if her husband’s name is Alexis Ohanian — came into this Wimbledon with a gift seed of No. 25 because she had missed so many tournaments after giving birth.

Which doesn’t mean anything. As shown by the results of the top-seeded players.

When No. 1 seed and No. 1 ranked Simona Halep was defeated, 3-6, 6-4, 7-5, by Hsieh Su-Wei of Taiwan on Saturday only one of the women’s top ten seeds remained. And we’re only through the third round.

Maybe Steffi Graf could be accepted as a late entry. Or Martina Navratilova, who won nine times from 1978-1990, and is now on the grounds doing TV work. Sure, she’s not young anymore, but she’s still famous.

Tennis purists know about Hsieh, who with Peng Shuai of China won the 2013 Wimbledon’s doubles. But to be successful, a sport must bring in the masses. As the late Bill Veeck said about the so-called National Pastime, “If you had to depend on baseball fans for your support, you’d be out of business by Mother’s Day.”

Wimbledon, the Championships, has been in business since 1877. That doesn’t mean everyone is paying attention. It may be the oldest, most important tennis tournament in the world, but it’s still a tennis tournament, not the World Cup or the Super Bowl.

The players make the event as much as the event makes the players.

So with Halep, and defending champ Garbiñe Muguruza and Serena’s older sister, Venus, having been defeated all too early — along with Caroline Wozniacki and two-time winner Petra Kvitova — it could be Serena, 36, who’s the lady of them all.

Halep won the French Open a month ago. She went from a feat on clay to feet of clay on Wimbledon’s grass. Hsieh throws a knuckleball, in a matter of speaking, drop shots and slices, and her game — along with the Wimbledon lawn on Court No. 1 — confused Halep.

“I know she’s mixing the rhythm,” said Halep, who’s from Rumania. “She’s playing everything. It was really hard on grass court to do better. Still I had 5-3 in the third set. I had match point. It didn’t go my way today.”

Certain people can play hard courts. Certain people can play clay. Certain people can play grass. Great players, Graf, Navratilova, Chris Evert, Serena, won on all three.

“The ball is not bouncing two times in a row the same,” said Halep. “The difficulty was bigger today because of her game.”

Not that Hsieh, 32, doesn’t have her mental hang-ups. When she was serving for the match, Hsieh hit a fault, then paused before tossing up another ball.

“Because last year I play against (Lucie) Safarova, then I have two match points,” she recalled. “I make double-fault. Then have one match point. Double fault again. So today, I have a fault. Oh my God, not going to happen again. People was laughing at me. I need to cool down.”

Hsieh had injuries to both ankles, forcing her into a brief retirement two years ago. “I nearly thought of stopping tennis completely,” she said on her return in December 2016. “But here I am.”

There she was, ousting Halep and making a mockery of the seeding.

Serena was idle Saturday and, as is tradition, there is no play at Wimbledon on the middle Sunday, so she will be well rested for her fourth-round match Monday.

A seven-time champion, Serena was asked whether, with so many top players being knocked out, this would be an excellent chance for another title.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think a lot of the top players are losing. But they’re losing to girls who are playing outstanding. If anything, it shows me every moment that I can’t underestimate any of these ladies.”

Nor do any of those ladies dare underestimate Serena Williams

The answer always is Wimbledon

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — The answer is Wimbledon, no matter the question.

Grass courts that mystify (unless you’re Roger Federer)? Wimbledon.

Tournament often as crazy as it is important? Wimbledon.

Event the players would never criticize even though it should be criticized? You got it, Wimbledon. 

On Day 5 of Wimbledon 142 — yes, it started in 1877, but there was the interruption called World War II — Roger Federer and Serena Williams kept winning.

Venus Williams and Sam Querrey failed to keep winning. 

And the stories in the dailies that weren’t about Dominika Cibulkova’s thigh slapping or England’s World Cup quarterfinal were about an oversize balloon in the form of Donald Trump wearing a diaper that will fly over London

Ready? Your serve. And with this heat wave, 85 degrees on Friday, remember to stay hydrated.

Federer, 6-3, 7-5, 6-2 over Jan-Lennard Struff and Serena, 7-5, 7-6 over Kristina Mladenovic, stayed on course. So did John Isner, 6-3, 6-3, 6-4 over Radu Albot.

But after taking the first set, Querrey was beaten by the flashy French guy, Gael Monfils, 5-7, 6-4, 6-4, 6-2. And Venus, 38 years old, lost to Father Time, and to 26-year-old Kiki Bertens, 6-2, 6-7, 8-6.

“There always are more upsets at Wimbledon,” said Querrey, who a year ago had one of those, beating Andy Murray. “I think it’s because of the grass. It’s such a different surface.”

Whether Bertens defeating Venus could be labeled an upset is judgmental. Venus did win Wimbledon five times and did get to the final in 2017 before being whipped by Garbine Muguruza — who, talk about upsets, lost this year in the second round.

But Venus sadly is starting to look the age she is, eliminated in the first round of both the Australian Open and French Open and now being eliminated in the second round at Wimbledon after losing the first set in all three matches. 

“Just ran out of time in the end,” said Venus, an ironic comment that now could apply to her career as much as to the match. Not that she ever would even hint of stepping away.

“The plan,” said Venus when asked about disappointment, “is to go out and try to win the matches. You just go out and regroup afterwards. You know, I think she was just a little bit luckier than I was in the end.”

Johanna Konta of England wasn’t as concerned with fortune as she was with Cibulkova slapping her thighs during the Thursday match that Cibulkova won, 6-3, 6-4.

“Jo complained to the umpire about me slapping my leg when waiting to receive,” Cibulkova told The Sun. “But I have been doing that in my whole career, and I see no reason to stop. That is what I told the umpire. That is the first time anyone has ever complained.”

Konta is No. 24 in the rankings and Cibulkova is No. 31, so the result could be called an upset. For sure, Konta, a back-page tabloid star in this, her homeland, was upset emotionally.

“She’s very intense,” Konta said of Cibulkova, a Slovakian. “She was slapping her thigh. It was like clapping. I asked the umpire if it would be the same if someone else externally, from the crowd, would clap between first and second serves.”

No one’s been clapping of late for the achievements, or lack of same, of American men at Wimbledon or the other three Grand Slam tournaments.

“I feel like things come in waves,” said Querrey about the inability of U.S. men to contend. Querrey did make the semis a year ago, but that was that. The last American to win a Slam was Andy Roddick at the 2003 U.S. Open — 15 years ago.

“I mean, in the ‘90s we were probably the best tennis nation,” said Querrey, alluding to the days when Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi. Michael Chang and Jim Courier earned titles. “You have the dominance of Roger (Federer) and Rafa (Nadal) the last 12 years, Novak (Djokovic) and Andy (Murray). We have dropped off. Maybe in 10 years, we will have another wave.”

Or another lady who slaps her thighs waiting for a serve.

Isner on his Wimbledon marathon: ‘Whole world was captivated’

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — The plaque is still there, attached to the weathered bricks outside Court 18. John Isner saw it Thursday morning. Again.

“I didn’t stop and stare by any means,” he said. Others do. Thousands of others.

Court 18 is where Isner and Nicolas Mahut played, as the opening words of the plaque tell us, “The Longest Match.”

Not just at Wimbledon but anywhere, five sets and the match ending 70-68; 11 hours 5 minutes over three days, June 22-24, 2010. No tie-breaker in the fifth set at Wimbledon.

It was historic. It was magnificent. It was awful.

Mahut was so battered physically and mentally that it took him months to regain his strength, confidence and touch. And even the winner, Isner, had trouble recovering. Not that Isner has any regrets. 

“It was such a crazy match,” he said, “that the whole world was captivated by that match. I’m not exaggerating there.”

Not at all. Two guys played one match for three days? You've got to be kidding. We weren’t. Tennis had a landmark.

What Isner, now 33, had the last two days was another extended match, this time on Court 12, and this time much quicker, 3 hours 46 minutes. He beat Ruben Bemelmans of Belgium, 6-1, 6-4, 6-7 (6), 6-7 (3), 7-5.

He beat Bemelmans and that electronic linesperson, “Hawk-eye,” which on Wednesday blew a call just like a human and caused Isner to rant — until a few hours later he reflected.

“I mean, of course I’ve been in this situation before,” said Isner, about the rain that halted play in the fifth set Wednesday, “where a match was not finished, and I’m not talking about 2010.”

Although he said doesn’t mind everyone else talking about it, “because that match we played eight years ago was such a big event.”

Isner is 6-foot-10 — “If I knew I would be that tall,” said the man who was a high school center in North Carolina, “I would have stayed with basketball.” Instead he concentrated on tennis and became an All-American and NCAA tournament finalist at the University of Georgia. 

A man that tall ought to have a brilliant serve. Isner does. Against Bemelmans in the five sets, Isner recorded 64 aces, the third most ever in a match at Wimbledon. In the 11-hour match, Isner had 113 aces, Mahut 103. Which is why it lasted 11 hours. How do you break serve when you can’t return?

But like home run hitters, Isner has off days. His best at Wimbledon is the third round, where he is now. It’s not easy at his height to play those half volleys or to move around effortlessly. Not that in his career he hasn’t beaten Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic.

At nine, Isner is the highest seeded American in the men’s draw. He said he has developed a hang-loose attitude, not forcing the issue and remaining under control. In the French Open last month, he said “I just went out there with nothing to lose and played the big points well.”

It’s been unseasonably hot in Greater London, with temperatures reaching the mid 80s by late afternoon. The evenings are warm enough that a jacket is not needed. Maybe too warm for a man who was trying to sleep on Wednesday night while thinking of a match he already should have won.

“It was tough,” he conceded, “All the stuff is running through my head. I’m half asleep. I’m not really asleep. We have all been there. You have something weighing on you.

“But you know I didn’t feel tired today. I had a lot of adrenaline running through my body. The third day of my really long match in 2010, I thought I would feel tired and I didn’t. This is nothing like that but pretty similar.”

So the words don’t make a lot of sense. First the anger about Hawk-eye, then the rain, now the questions. Let’s return to the match against Mahut.

“After it finished,” said Isner, “it will go down in history, and I was a part of it. So I think especially the casual tennis fan, that’s what they know of me, and that’s fine. I like to think that since then I’ve done a lot of good stuff in my career to shed that lasting image.”

Good stuff, but so far nothing else worthy of a plaque on Wimbledon’s walls.