For Federer and his fans, disappointment and doubt

When the Open Championship was held at Royal St. George’s in 1949 a golfer named Harry Bradshaw found his ball inside a broken beer bottle on the fifth fairway. He tried to play it. He could have had a free drop,

When the Open was held at St. George’s in 2011, a golfer named Tiger Woods couldn’t find his ball off the first fairway after the opening shot of the tournament. Woods only wished he could have had a free drop instead of a lost-ball penalty.

The Open starting Thursday returns to St. George’s where you can see France some 20 miles across the Channel but when in competition, you’re thrashing around in the rough you can’t see a way to make par.

And, no, Bradshaw didn’t win in ’49, It was the legendary Bobby Locke. Nor did Tiger win in ’11, It was the not-so-legendary Ben Curtis.

The last Open at the course named for the patron saint of England was in 2011 and won by Darren Clarke, whose celebration after years of trying included his obligatory cigars and some optional pints.

Clarke, a Northern Irishman, who’s as popular as the game he still plays on the Champions (seniors) Tour.

Phil Mickelson was second that ‘11 Open, and now 10 years later, in May, having taken the PGA at 50 to become the oldest man ever to win a major, he’s still a factor.

The favorites, however, are the usual suspects; Jon Rahm, who won the U, S. Open, at Torrey Pines in June; the feuding friends, Bruce Koepka, and Bryson DeChambeau; Rory McIlroy, despite his unsteady driving; and Justin Thomas.

But so often at the Open—this is the 149th--the story’s the course, scraped and molded from the linksland of the British Isles,

St. George’s is a place where off the fourth tee there’s a bunker big enough to hide the whole lot of the Queen’s fusiliers and where canines and human females used to be treated with contempt.

It’s nestled among dunes on which Caesar’s army set foot but Hitler’s army never was able.

Ian Fleming, a member, picked up many of his story ideas behind the bar. He carried a handicap of 007—well 7.

When the wind blows (when doesn’t it blow?) St. George’s might be the toughest course in the Open rotation. Unquestionably it is the southernmost.

In the 1981 Open (won by the Texan, Bill Rogers) Jack Nicklaus shot an 83 in the second round and still made the cut. In the ’85 Open there (won by Sandy Lyle) Peter Jacobsen tackled a streaker on the 18th green. In1993 Greg Norman played so well the final round he proclaimed, “I’m not one to brag, but I was in awe of myself.”

There are several courses squeezed in the area known for decades as Cinque Ports, not far from the White Cliffs of Dover, One, Prince’s, is alongside St. George’s, only a small stone wall separating the two.

The third round of the ’93 Open, the late Payne Stewart saw several sportswriters he knew, playing Prince’s, stopped next to the wall and asked, “Anybody see my ball, a Pink Lady?”

He wasn’t serious.

But Bernard Darwin, the London Times golf writer, in the 1920s and ‘30s, was serious when he wrote about St. George’s, “The sun shines on the waters of Pegwell Bay and lighting up the white cliffs in the distance; this is nearly my idea of heaven as it is to be attained on any earthly links.”

Others may have disagreed. Once, outside St. George’s there was a sign, “No dogs, no women.” Ladies now are able to play although only by themselves.

Wonder what James Bond would say?In the old cartoons, Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd, the message scrolled on the screen. “The end,” it said, and so it was time to leave.

If only it could be that clear in sports.

If only Roger Federer and his fans wouldn’t have to endure the disappointment and doubt.

If only we wouldn’t be wondering whether one of the great careers in tennis was headed to a finish.

Which it certainly seemed to be Wednesday, when Federer was defeated — in truth, overwhelmed — 6-3, 7-6 (4), 6-0, by Hubert Hurkacz of Poland, who except to tennis purists probably is as obscure as Federer is famous.

Or was obscure until his Wimbledon quarterfinal rout of Federer.

What a sad, jarring few days for two of the game’s stars. Venus Williams, age 41, couldn’t win a game in the final set she played. Federer, age 39 (a week away from 40), also couldn’t win a game the final set he played.

It’s not supposed to be that way. Or is it? The world, we were told poetically by T.S. Eliot, ends with a whimper. An appropriate description of Federer’s play the last game or the last set.

Chris Clarey wrote in the New York Times that Federer was “shanking forehands and misjudging volleys.” Roger Federer, eight-time Wimbledon singles champion, so graceful and mobile, shanking and misjudging?

This could not be. But it was.

Like Willie Mays in the season he was with the Mets, dropping flies and striking out, Federer was a victim of time as much as he was of the opposing players.

He’s not going to retire. Tennis is his life as well as his profession. “The goal is to play, of course,” he said.

But even he was uncertain about a return to Wimbledon in 2022. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t really know. I’ve got to regroup.”

What he does know, what we all know, is that age is the ultimate winner in every sport.

Our games are for the young, as Federer was when at 19 he knocked off Pete Sampras at Wimbledon in 2001. As is Hurkacz at 24 when he knocked off Federer. 

The days keep moving, the forehands keep flying. Don’t look over your shoulder. Everyone may be gaining on you.

Federer had a decent tournament, all things considered. Until the third game against Hurkacz.

Roger underwent a knee operation a year ago and weeks of rehabilitation. That he even was able to advance to the quarters this Wimbledon could be considered a victory. 

Unfortunately, there was that third game, Hurkacz pitching the shutout as it were, only the third incurred by Federer in 429 Grand Slam matches.

“The last few games,” Federer admitted in his media conference, “obviously you can feel that you’re not coming back from it.

“I’m not used to that kind of situation, obviously, very much, especially not here.”  

Yet assuming he returns to Wimbledon — and the guess is he will, if only to revise the last impression; who wants to remember Roger getting skunked? — he may have to get used to it.

The older you get, the younger — and stronger — are the people on the other side of the net.

Of course, young or old, how many tennis players were as brilliant or elegant as Federer, the 20 Wimbledon titles, the 103 ATP singles wins?

Although he is Swiss, Federer came to be idolized by the British fans, probably because of his classy style as well as his success at their tournament.

“I’m actually very happy I made it as far as I did here,” he said diplomatically, “and I actually was able to play at the level that I did after everything I went through.”

What he went through in that final game was awful. For him and his many fans.

For the A’s, the story always is the ballpark they lack

So, how’s that new A’s ballpark coming along? You know, at Howard Terminal. Or is Howard Cosell?  It’s supposed to be ready by 2029. In Las Vegas, if not in Oakland.

They used to call San Francisco “the city that knows how,” but that was long ago before the homeless were camping out in the parks. Oakland might be described as the city that knows how to lose sports franchises. No, that’s not quite accurate.

The Warriors left because the team owner wanted the prestige of a San Francisco location — yes, even with dirty streets it has charm. The Raiders left because they wanted a town with money. And the A’s will be leaving because, as you’ve noted, from the bickering and pettiness, there’s no way a new stadium ever will be constructed in Oakland.

I feel sorry for the A’s. The baseball they play, and through the season it has ranked among the game’s best, invariably becomes less important than the other factors — from the time of Charles Finley to this very moment.

Instead of dwelling on Matt Olson, who will be in the All-Star Game home run contest, or Sean Manaea or Chris Bassitt, we’re always writing about the small payroll and the large financial problems. About the disappointing attendance and the generally clueless way the city treats the A’s and their fans.

We know the reality. As in the rest of the Bay Area, citizens who adhere to the NIMBY philosophy — as re-emphasized when, goodness gracious, the A’s suggested a stadium on the property of Merritt College, you’d have thought the team wanted to dam up the Oakland Estuary.

So, then the move was the harbor, the docks, Howard Terminal, functional stadium that seemed to fit in perfectly. Sorry, ship owners contend that stadium lights will affect the fish — just joking, I think.

Of late, an ad posted on the web page of the Oakland Times says the ballpark will cost Oakland taxpayers millions.

As you know, it all comes down to money. The A’s have paddled forward through the years with rosters of players who kept winning until those players became unaffordable — at least for the A‘s, if not other teams.

Billy Beane, the A’s GM for years, never whined about the payroll differential, although after one playoff loss some 20 years ago he was heard to sigh, “Another $50,000, we win that game.”

It’s a business, baseball, and players deserve what they are able to earn. As the A’s were outbid by other teams, Oakland management would tell us as soon as the new ballpark was built it could compete for its stars.

But the beat — and beatings — will go on. That ballpark is more myth than possibility. A’s president Dave Kaval tweeted, offhandedly we’re told, about the team shifting to Vegas. Hey, the Raiders did it.

The A’s were beaten 9-6 on Tuesday night by the Houston Astros, the team with the big bats and big bucks. A club can get by only so long on new kids and overachievers. Eventually, class and star power take control, as the Dodgers did in the World Series against Tampa Bay last year.

It is hardly surprising that the A’s current home, their home since they came to Oakland from Kansas City in 1968, is a negative.

The holiday series this past weekend against the Red Sox, the so-called “Reopening” without Covid-19 restrictions for the first time in a season and a half, drew only 61,000 for three games.

As we’ve been told repetitively, and correctly, the A’s need another ballpark. That it might be located far away from Oakland is the hard truth.

Venus wants more matches, not more questions

Venus Williams always was the quiet one, the protective one, the classic older sister. Serena Williams could give us some great comments as well as great tennis, but Venus was measured in her remarks.

We’ll never really know what she thinks about her slide from the top.

At age 41, what Venus wants is another match, not another question about growing old. However, she can’t have one without the other.

Serena is a five-part drama. She shouts at chair umpires, swears at linespeople and even unintentionally becomes the prima donna, as she did on Tuesday, when in her Wimbledon first-round match she slipped, injured a hamstring and was forced to withdraw.

A day later, almost unnoticed, in part because of her personality, in part because of the decline of her game, Venus was defeated — crushed actually — 7-5, 6-0, by the rising young Tunisian, Ons Jabeur.

Bageled in the second set, as the tennis people say about getting blanked. How depressing. At least to us, if not to Venus.

“She has nothing to prove,” was the observation that Chris Evert made on ESPN about Williams. Quite true, and quite historical. In an earlier era, it was Evert who dropped from the top — and when asked why she continued on tour said something like, there’s nothing wrong with being third.

Not at all, but these days, Venus Williams isn’t third. Or 13th. When she won her Wimbledon opener on Monday, it was the first time in a year she’s made it to the second round of a Grand Slam.

You rarely know what a great athlete is thinking as the end nears, especially in an individual sport such as tennis where there’s no GM or coach to push you out the door.

A champion tennis player may not hurt herself by continuing to compete, but she will hurt her fans. And her image.  

They were involved in different sports, but Willie Mays, Joe Namath and Johnny Unitas were almost embarrassments in their final seasons. You hated to suffer through games.

You wonder if it bothers the athlete as much as it does the people who watch him or her?

Indeed, it’s often a group of sportswriters or announcers — who never retire — calling on the athlete to step away.

Once I asked Joe Montana why he kept playing, “You can retire and return to your work,” he replied. “When I retire, it’s over.”

Besides, sports are what they know and where they made their living and reputation. You’ve heard athletes, football players particularly, say that nothing replaced the feeling of playing the game.

More athletes are staying longer, and please don’t pester them. Even when somewhat surprisingly, as was the situation with Venus for ESPN, they consent to talk. And not say much.

“I’ve done a thousand interviews,” Williams insisted, “and now only the truth comes out.”

Venus was a 14-year-old when in October 1994, at what then was called Oakland Coliseum Arena, she played her first pro match, defeating Shaun Stafford. There have been dozens of other victories, seven in Grand Slams, through the years. Also, as Venus noted, dozens of questions.

Which is why, as is the case with her tennis, she goes through a well-practiced routine, full of cliches such as “You can’t win them all.”

In the ESPN bit, when Chris McKendry asked, “What’s the key to your longevity?” Venus replied, “I’m tired of talking about it.”

Chris Evert interrupted and joked, “How’s your love life?” “I’m very single,” said Venus. “I might be available, actually.”

Evert added, “You and me both.”

Venus is very available as a player and apparently will be for some time, despite the losses and age.

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.

Olympic Club again more curse than course

SAN FRANCISCO — The Olympic Club remains more curse than course, a place where leads are squandered and favorites are trampled. It kicked Ben Hogan in one U.S. Open and smacked Arnold Palmer around in another.

And Sunday, in the U.S. Women’s Open, it ruined the hopes and plans of Lexi Thompson — in virtually the same way it did to Arnie in 1966.

Lexi had this Open, with a five-shot lead and nine holes to play, as surely as Arnie, a seven-shot lead and nine to play, had that Open.

But Billy Casper, making putts and making history, caught Palmer and beat him in an 18-hole playoff. Golf has never been the same.

Now, after what candidly must be called her collapse, you wonder if Lexi will be.

“That's what this course can do,” Thompson said of how she made a mess of things, and in the process was unable to give a jolt to ladies golf in America. “Just got the wind wrong on a few shots coming in. But overall, I'd be the first one to tell you that I hit some bad golf shots, and I deserved it, but it's golf.”

Thompson shot a 5-over-par 41 on the back and came in with a 4-over 75. She sunk to third and missed the playoff by a shot.

The winner on the third extra hole was Yuka Saso, beating Nasa Hataoka after both finished with totals of 4-under 280. Saso, from the Philippines, was as sharp at the end as Lexi was not, ending up 4-4-4 (birdie, birdie, par) on 16, 17 and 18, compared with Thompson’s 5-6-5, a total difference of four strokes. Lexi ended at 281.

They say golf is a cruel game, and it definitely was cruel for Thompson. On a cool, sunny day along the coast, Thompson was having a ball. The crowd was alive. The stakes were high — no American had won the Open in five years. She and the women’s game were poised for the breakthrough.

Maybe on another day, on another course.

There are no water hazards and only one fairway bunker on Olympic’s Lake Course, but there is a reputation that taunts. When virtually every conversation about Olympic dwells on what has gone wrong, it’s perhaps difficult to think of what to do right.

And that rough, although trimmed a bit during the week, doesn’t help.

Thompson is 25. She first qualified for an Open when she was 12, at the time the youngest girl ever to do so. She’s won other tournaments, including that one now known as the Inspiration, one of the four ladies’ majors. But this Open, and the way she couldn’t hang on, has to hurt. 

“Yeah, of course it's hard to smile,” she conceded, “but I mean, it was an amazing week. Yeah, I played not so good today with a few of the bogeys coming in on the back nine, but the fans were unbelievable, hearing the chants just gives me a reason to play.”

There’s always a reason. With her success and endorsement deals, Thompson has earned a bundle. A native and resident of Florida, she has an interest in stock car racing. In that sport, as in golf, there are mishaps.

“You know, 17,” she mused about a bogey hole, “I mean, I didn't hit a bad drive. The wind just never got it and then I tried to bounce right, and I've never seen a lie that bad. That's what this course can do. Just got the wind wrong on a few shots coming in.”

An old tale in an Open at Olympic, and not a happy one.

At the Open, Lexi and Megha give boost to American golf

SAN FRANCISCO — A tantalizing nickname, right out of a Hollywood studio: Lexi. We’ve seen and heard it for years, mostly for history — Lexi Thompson played in the U.S. Women’s Open at age 12 — and occasionally in misery, the inability to meet her own expectations.

But there she is again, leading this 2021 Open with only 18 holes to play, maybe destined to be the first American in five years to win the national championship

Thompson, now 25, shot a bogey-free 5-under-par 66 on the Olympic Club’s Lake Course, the low round on Saturday, and with a 54-hole of 6-under 207 moved a shot ahead of Yuka Saso of the Philippines.

And indeed, the charming, talented Megha Ganne, the New Jersey teen, remained very much part of the story, hanging in with a 2-over 73 that left her tied for third with Jeongeun Lee of South Korea at 210.

“It’s all about patience,” said Thompson of her round and her standing. She meant hers, not ours, although either could be accepted. “I just realized I needed to change my mindset.”

A win by Thompson — she tied for second in 2019 — would give the woman’s game a jolt. The American golf community has been waiting for a U.S. female star in the few years since Michelle Lee was a winner and waiting even longer for Thompson

It isn’t a case of being provincial, but of being practical and commercial. In team sports, you root for the uniform. In golf and tennis, you cheer for the personality, or better yet the nationality.

So Thompson, who went sleeveless on the day the sun finally made a cameo appearance along the coast, and Ganne, 17, who is headed for Stanford in another year, are exactly what the American game has lacked: stars with whom even the casual fan could identity.

Alexis Thompson, from a golfing family in Florida, made an impression when in 2007, at age 12, she made the field for the Open, at the time the youngest girl ever to qualify. (Seven years later, the record was surpassed by Lucy Li.)

Thompson’s amateur career was decent enough, and she won 11 tournaments after turning professional including the Kraft Nabisco (now the Inspiration, one of the four LPGA majors). And yet her name seemed to be missing until recently.

“I haven’t really struggled,” she said, “but I haven’t played to my standard.”

The problem was mental, as so frequently the problem is in golf.

“I was just taking it too seriously,” she said about the game. “I just got into a state (thinking), I’m going to hit bad shots.”

So she returned to pro John Denny, who knew how to make a correction. “I’m focusing on the good in life,” she said, “just the blessing of being out here. I mean Covid didn’t help. No fans and all that. Just seeing those little kids here and the chants, it brings me happiness and reason for playing golf again.”

Megha Ganne has expressed similar thoughts. Golfers are part athlete, part actor — those arm pumps from Tiger — and Ganne said she feels like she’s on stage when the crowd responds.

“I’ve always imagined myself engaging with the fans,” Ganne explained after an afternoon of engagement and impressive golf. “Because when I was younger and watching events, I knew I would love it when I see the pros just even look at the crowd and smile.”

A pro called Lexi and an amateur named Megha smiled frequently on Saturday. For good reason. They were winning. As was women’s golf in the U.S.

At the Women’s Open, Megha Ganne grabs the spotlight

SAN FRANCISCO — They say a golf ball doesn’t care how old you are. Nor does it care about your heritage or history. Just put it on the tee and swing away.

A man, who likes golf, and his wife immigrated from India to New Jersey, where their daughters are born. On the promise of treats, he coaxes them to join him at the driving range. The older one develops into a champion.

Maybe not the latest version of the American Dream, but in these so-called challenging times, with minorities under attack, an encouraging tale.

Hari Ganne, Megha Ganne’s father, a tech guy, surely couldn’t have imagined she would become the golfer she is, at 17, still in high school, grabbing headlines and for one day grabbing a share of the lead in the U.S. Women’s Open.

In the second round on Friday, Ganne was overtaken, slipping to a tie for third, two strokes back after an even-par 71.

She remained low amateur and also remained a topic for the news channels. And was enjoying it immensely.

It’s not easy to tromp up and down the hills of the Olympic Club’s Lake Course, not on an all-too-typical early summer day in Northern California, where “June Gloom” was more like “February Freeze” (brrr).

But bad weather had never stopped good golf fans or great golfers.

The crowd was relatively large, the response relatively loud.

“I love it so much,” said Ganne. “I wish every event I had a gallery watching me because it just makes me play better, I think. And I love being in the spotlight, so it's been really fun.”

If she seems a like the Stanford type, well, she’s already committed to the university. Apparently joining Rachel Heck, who as a freshman at Stanford last year won the NCAA tournament and played in the Open.

Aline Krauter, who won the British Amateur, also is at Stanford and played in the Open. The Cardinal keep adding female golfers like Alabama adds football players.

Whether Ganne can add the Open to her resume is questionable, however.

Only one amateur has won the women’s Open, Catherine LaCoste in 1967. Yes, the daughter of the French tennis ace, Henri, “The Crocodile,” whose shirt with the reptile logo is as famous as the man. Second in that Open was Shelley Hamlin, who, fitting well in the narrative, went to Stanford.

For a while, until the fall of 2022, Ganne’s school will be in Holmdel, N.J., where she has a full load of subjects to keep her busy. In fact, she was about to take a semester-ending calculus test that her mother, Sudha, said was creating much more stress than the golf. 

Why not? Golf still is a game. To borrow a phrase from baseball, you play golf, not work golf.

“I was way more calm than (Thursday),” said Ganne about her 33-38 round Friday that began at the 10th hole. “I received a great amount of support after the first round, and my motivation came from that.”

Asked the biggest difference between rounds one and two — other than four shots — Ganne said it was the weather. A perfect response from a visitor to San Francisco, where parkas and knit caps were numerous.

“The course played pretty similar,” Ganne said, “but it was chillier. And there was some fog in the morning, adding some yards.”

What Ganne added was another bit of excitement, as is fitting for someone with growing star quality.

She said she began to feel comfortable in the spotlight during the 2019 U.S. Amateur, where as a 15-year-old she reached the semifinals in match play.

“Yeah,” she said of the attention, “that’s when I really liked it.”

Right now, Ganne is being liked by practically everyone in American golf.

Open course is tough, and so is Mel Reid

SAN FRANCISCO — Mel Reid looked at the course, literally, and knowing the history, virtually, with the same honesty she looked at herself.

Reid knew what was out there and could accept it.

Now a day into the U.S. Women’s Open, Reid tied for the lead with amateur Megha Ganne and can accept that.

On Thursday, in weather that was Marine Layer dreary, Reid, prepared mentally for what she would face, had five birdies and a 4-under-par 71 on the Olympic Club’s Lake Course.

“I didn’t think that score was out there,” said Reid, who very much is out there, in more than one definition.

“I’ve got a lot more scars on my body than most of the girls,” Reid told Golf Monthly of Britain.

And for Gay Pride Week, in the city where the event is historically celebrated, she has a golf hat with a rainbow logo.

The 33-year-old Reid, from the Midlands of England, came out as a lesbian last fall, just before she came to the United States. Her pal and adviser is four-time major champion Brooks Koepka, now a Florida neighbor.

Her game is to be admired. So is her attitude. She showed up Monday and, after practice, said of the same Olympic course that had others fearful, “This is how a U.S. championship should be, really tough. If you shoot even par around here, you’ve got a really good chance of winning the tournament.”

She knew at the last men’s Open at Olympic, in 2012, Webb Simpson won at 1 over.

“I think it’s going to be a great test,” she predicted. The course that got the best of Ben Hogan, Arnold Palmer and Tom Watson in men’s Opens always has been.

Maybe no female golfer has been tested as often or in so many ways as Melissa Reid. Nine years ago, Reid’s mother was killed in a car crash en route home from one of Mel’s tournaments in Germany. Unsettled and also uncertain about her sexuality, she went a bit wild, partying and rarely practicing.

But she regained her bearings and her game, although going without a win more than three years she was left off the 2019 European Solheim Cup team, a considerable blow to her confidence and ego.

But with Koepka’s advice and with her own determination, Reid played herself into the spot as England’s best female golfer, a position she didn’t hurt with the first round she’s ever played in a U.S. Open.

“Level par should be winning this thing in my opinion,” she said. “I love how tough it is. These are the kind of golf courses we want to play.”

You love how tough Reid is. She kept her sexuality as secret as possible while playing in Europe, worried that she would lose financial support if it became an issue.

“I protected my sexuality for a long time,” she told the Times of London, “because I thought I had to in order to help my career and to get more sponsors.

“Then I started to wonder why these companies would want to sponsor me and have me represent them if I couldn’t be my authentic self. There is only one of you in the world and you have one life, so be the best version of yourself and be proud of who you are.”

She definitely can be proud of her game.

“I think if you play well,” Reid said, echoing a long-held belief, “you get rewarded. If you don’t, you can get punished very quickly.”

Koepka, who won back-to-back men’s Opens and PGAs, well understands that and has been able to make Reid understand it as well.

“I texted Brooks on Tuesday,” said Reid. “We had a long conversation, then we FaceTimed. He gave me a few things he follows in a major. What he told me was invaluable, and it made me have a little different approach.”

An approach that was very successful.

The ladies take on the course that victimized Ben and Arnie

SAN FRANCISCO — So, it’s another U.S. Open at the Olympic Club, where Arnie and Ben became victims, not winners; where you can see the Golden Gate Bridge from the third tee — but because of the rough you often can’t see the ball after a shot — and where reverse camber fairways make the course almost as zany as the city where it’s located.

But it’s not another U.S. Open starting on Thursday at Olympic, wedged along the Pacific on San Francisco’s western edge. For the first time, it’s the Women’s Open, meaning the best female golfers will get to know the misery that Olympic can inflict.

No water hazards. Only one fairway bunker — on the sixth hole — but trees, cypress and pine by the hundreds, and rough by the foot. 

“Really thick and long,” said Inbee Park, a two-time champion. “You have to hit the fairways on this course. It’s an automatic bogey if you don’t.”

Opens — this is the 76th women’s — are infamous for difficulty. And griping. And, of the five men’s Opens at Olympic, for unexpected champions: in ’55 Jack Fleck, not the favored Ben Hogan; in ‘66 Billy Casper, not the favored Arnold Palmer; in ’87 Scott Simpson, not the favored Tom Watson.

What this means for the ladies we’ll find out soon enough. The oddsmakers — yes, there’s betting on everything, including women’s golf — made Park the favorite, followed closely by Jin Young Ko, Lydia Ko and Sei Young Kim.

Probably the best bet would be on Olympic’s Lake Course, built in the 1920s. literally on one end of the San Andreas Fault. The late Ken Venturi (who won the Open at Congressional) grew up in San Francisco. He said the property where Olympic is located was changing constantly. That wasn’t the cause of reverse camber, where, as at the par-4 fourth, you need to play left while your feet are aimed downhill right.   

Then there is the way the course is prepared, not the way the Women’s Open entrants would prefer. Add the typical June weather — Mark Twain never actually wrote that the coldest winner he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco, but whoever did was accurate — and few are happy.

“I was terrified,” Angela Stanford, who has played in 21 U.S. Women’s Opens, said after her first shots in the opening practice round. Maybe she thought it was an Alfred Hitchcock setting, not a sporting venue.

There is, however, a legitimate fear in having to negotiate an Open course with small, hard greens and not much room to land a tee shot. Strokes can multiply all too quickly.

In only four of the five previous men’s Opens, just four players finished with under-par totals, winners Casper and Simpson, and runners-up Palmer and Watson. Stanford, after playing, said, “That makes sense.”

To John Bodnehamer, the U. S. Golf Association’s director of championships, so does a course that is testing. If the Open is the hardest tournament of the year, well, shouldn’t that be the case for a national championship?

“These players are good!” Bodnehamer told Tod Leonard of Golf Digest. “They’re going to find a way to hit those fairways, they’re going to make putts, and you’re going to see players under par. You’re just gonna!

“I’ll say that now. I don’t know what it will be. But they’re damn good, and we want to showcase that. And it is hard, and when they do excel, and they shoot under par on a hard place, I think it just showcases that side of what they do.”

It’s the other side that worries them. No athlete wants to look bad, and on a course as challenging as Olympic is under tough conditions, the possibility of looking bad is, well, quite good.

Michelle Wie West sympathizes with ‘incredibly brave’ Osaka

SAN FRANCISCO — She knows all about expectations. And pressure.  It’s not exactly accurate to say that Michelle Wie West was an earlier version of Naomi Osaka — after all, their sports are different — but there are similarities.

As surely there are for other young women who find athletic success and fame before they find their bearings.

You know what’s happened the past few days to Osaka, the tennis ingénue, how after winning the first match she refused to attend a required news conference at the French Open. Then, after being fined, she chose to withdraw, eventually explaining at age 23 that she was haunted by depression and anxiety.

Wie West sympathizes. At 31, now she is married — to the son of a basketball legend — as well as a mother and a champion in her own right.

“My lows have been well documented throughout the years,” she said when asked about relating to Osaka’s trouble.

“And there’s a lot of tough times. I thought what Naomi did the past week was incredibly brave. I also understood that part of being an athlete is speaking to the media, because that’s how the tournaments get the media coverage.”

Which on this chilly, damp Tuesday morning is what Wie West was doing, after a practice round for the U.S. Women’s Open at the Olympic Club, where competition starts on Thursday.

If there is a phrase to sum up Wie West, it’s “been there, done that,” because there are few places she hasn’t been, and few things she hasn’t done.

“I'm really proud of athletes taking charge of their mental health and making it a priority. More conversations need to be had about that,” Wie West said.

“From a player’s perspective, I am totally understanding,” she said about Osaka’s difficulty. “I also get anxiety talking to the media right before (a tournament) because I know it’s the same questions every week. You guys are just doing your job, and I really appreciate that. But the last thing you want to do after a bad round is talk to anyone.” 

So, we talk about Wie West, who starting before she was 10 became worthy subject matter, winning events in her native Hawaii, the state amateur, the state public links.

She became one of the boys, smashing prodigious drives and in 2004, at 14, being invited to play against the figurative biggest of those boys, the PGA Tour pros, in the Sony Hawaiian Open. She missed the cut by only a couple of swings.

She herself turned pro — was it at the urging of her father? — before she turned up at Stanford as an undergrad. The joy and freedom she found on campus was gone once more when she returned to the LPGA Tour. And even Michelle taking the 2014 U.S Women’s Open, the ultimate prize, didn’t seem to satisfy the doubters.

It appears that unlike Osaka, Wie West has satisfied herself.

In 2019 she married Jonnie West, who works in the front office for the Golden State Warriors; yes, his father is NBA Hall of Famer Jerry West. They have a daughter, Makenna.

The golf still matters, but as Serena Williams said after becoming a new mother, on court the baby remains foremost in her mind.

Next, perhaps, is protecting the wrists that were injured a few years back. An Open, especially at Olympic, where in 1955 the great Ben Hogan couldn’t extract himself from the deep stuff, would appear to be the worst place.

“It’s tough,” Wie West said of the course, hosting its first women’s Open after having hosted five men’s Opens. “It’s a beast. Couple weeks ago when I played here, the rough wasn’t as long.”

You can trim the grass, unlike the demands on young female athletes.

For Giants, June once meant swoon

SAN FRANCISCO — Yes, June — and to those who have followed the San Francisco Giants through the years, that brings the most painful of rhyming words — swoon.

April and May were great. And then? Well, as Jim Murray wrote way, way back in 1965, “A falling figure shoots past a window, and a man says, ‘Oh, oh. It must be June. There go the Giants.”’

The month has a long way to go. Truth tell, so do the baseball pennant races, but after beating the Angels, 6-1, Monday at Oracle Park — not to be confused with the way they whipped a different L.A. team, the Dodgers, three in a row at the same place — June doesn’t seem like it’ll be a swoon.

There’s a saying that you shouldn’t pay attention to the standings until Memorial Day, which of course was Monday, meaning all restrictions are off. But very much on are thoughts that the Giants, with their undersized payroll and oversized dreams, might get to the postseason.

No less important, baseball is fun again by the Bay. Fans able to show proof of vaccinations once more can jam together in the bleachers, as in pre-pandemic days, shouting, or in the case of San Francisco starter Johnny Cueto when he walks off the mound after the top of the seventh, giving a standing ovation.

“I love it when the fans are behind me,” Cueto said through interpreter Erwin Higueros. Cueto knows the drill. He’s an athlete who’s an entertainer. He also helped the Giants to a third straight win and sixth in seven games.

“Johnny is a little bit different from the other starters we have,” said Gabe Kapler, the Giants manager, meaning he shimmies and shakes and keep batters off-balance in his unorthodox manner.

After the departure of Barry Bonds a decade ago, Giants home runs became rare, because of Oracle’s dimensions — there was a reason centerfield was nicknamed “Death Valley,” although the franchise prefers the euphemism “Triples Alley.”

The distances were moved when bullpens were built into right center, and no one needs a degree in physics to know that on a warm afternoon (it was 67 degrees at first pitch) a ball flies farther than it does on a chilly San Francisco night.

The Giants, acting as if they were the boom-boom Dodgers, hit three home runs on Monday, one by Evan Longoria, one by Mauricio Dubon (who took over after Longoria felt a twinge running the bases) and one by Donovan Solano.

This is not to suggest in any way that the Giants should be compared to the powerful teams of the early 1960s when they had Willie Mays, Willie McCovey and Orlando Cepeda, and an L.A. sportswriter named Bob Hunter called them “the big boppers of Bridgetown.” But at least they can get more than singles.

“I don’t see Dubon as a home run hitter,” said Kapler, in response to a question. “He’s more of a grinder, and with his speed he can get the extra base. He works the gaps, and he’s a quality defender.”

Kapler said the two victories over the Diamondbacks in Phoenix set up the wins over the Dodgers in L.A. and the one over the Angels, confidence builders.

San Francisco lacks people like Mookie Betts and Fernando Tatis Jr., two of the game’s better — and better-paid — players, but it isn’t lacking in quality or sense of humor.

Photos have been adorned with painted mustaches, as opposed to actual mustaches some players have attempted to grow with varying degrees of success.

“We get along very well,” said Cueto. “We’re having a lot of fun.”

Winners usually do.

This time, Phil being Phil was historic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then the Dodgers showed up

SAN FRANCISCO — Days and a night of reckoning. Those were the real Dodgers. The question is whether those were the real Giants.

That was great, living large against the Rockies and Reds, scoring big, thinking big. Hey, first place. It doesn’t get any bigger or better, particularly for a team some suggested should be closer to last place.

But then the Dodgers showed up. And how. Three games at Oracle, where the crowd was large — 13,446, the largest of the spring, and maybe a third cheering for the dreaded Dodgers.

Three games, and three wins for L.A., the last one Sunday, 11-5; the Dodgers, who were beat up and getting beat, turning into the dominant World Series champions they are.

What the young, low-payroll, overachieving Giants will turn into will be learned quickly enough.

Which is the more accurate representation of the Giants, the team that until Friday had pushed the right buttons, made the timely swings and won five in a row? Or the team that was stymied by the L.A. pitching until it was pummeled by the L.A. hitting and has dropped three in a row?

For sure, the Giants understand why the Dodgers won the championship, not that they didn’t previously.

“We got beat every which way in this series,” was the candid assessment of Giants manager Gabe Kapler. “They made more pitches than we did. They got more big hits than we did. They played better defense, converted more plays and outs than we did. 

“When that happens, the only thing to do is get back up quickly off the mat and quickly turn the page and get ready for the next game.”

Yes, a bit of a mixed metaphor, but when you’re behind 11-0 in the third inning against your historic rival at your home park, one is allowed a grammatical slip or two.

At least the Giants made it competitive, if they couldn’t make it close. Had they not scored at all and had a few runners on base, the manager was going to bring in outfielder Darin Ruf to pitch, saving relievers who, with starter Anthony DeSclafani not making it through the third, were overworked.

DeSclafani conceded he was awful, a bad combination when your hitters, facing Julio Urias, also were awful until it didn’t really matter. That a major league team would have an occasionally terrible game isn’t the worst thing — if the game is occasional and not against the team you need to beat.

Particularly since after two games at Arizona, the Giants play four more against the Dodgers in L.A. Three losses down there would pretty much delete the joy out of what until days ago was a joyful beginning.

The Dodgers have those two Cy Young Award pitchers, Trevor Bauer — who won Frlday night — and Clayton Kershaw. On Sunday, it was Urias. But no matter who’s on the mound, it’s the guys in the batter’s box who destroy the Giants, notably Max Muncy and Justin Turner.

The truism in baseball is good pitching stops good hitting. So the Giants were upbeat knowing DeSclafani was going be facing L.A. on Sunday. When the Dodgers’ Gavin Lux lined the first pitch of the game for a hit, that was an omen of what was about to come. Whoosh.

“I actually felt pretty good today,” said DeSclafani, an observation that couldn’t be repeated by Giants partisans. “It’s weird to say that, giving up 10 runs.”

It was weird to say that for a couple of weeks the Giants were ahead of the Dodgers. But as we know, weird things happen in the game, not always the way you would choose.

“At the end of the day,” DeSclafani said of his unexpected performance, “sometimes that’s baseball, just the way the game goes. It’s just important to forget about this game as quick as I can ... I’ve had a good season to this point.”

Before the Dodgers.

Steph on LeBron’s winner: ‘Great players make great plays’

Maybe it was appropriate. Steph Curry, who so often makes the long shots, being able to take the long view.

He didn’t like the result, getting beat 103-100 by the Lakers in the play-in game Wednesday night — the way he so frequently has won — but he relished the competition.

This was what he remembered, the excitement of the postseason, which he and the Warriors had missed since that fateful NBA final of injuries and defeat two years ago.

So tough this game, so emotional — head coach Steve Kerr used the term “disappointing” — and yet still so reassuring.

A game that reminded him, that reminded us, of the thrill and tension when every basket and every turnover become critical.

Curry, the NBA scoring champion and presumptive third-time MVP, joined the Lakers’ LeBron James to help make the evening nothing short of a Hollywood premier, exactly what league execs could have dreamed.

You had the two biggest stars in the game, Curry, who scored 37, and LeBron James, who as brilliant players are apt to do, hitting the winning basket from maybe 30 feet — a Curry-type-shot — with 58 seconds remaining.

That sent the Lakers into the playoffs at Phoenix and sent the Warriors into another play-in game, against the Memphis Grizzlies on Friday night at Chase Center.

But neither Curry nor Kerr was that interested in what was coming, They preferred to ruminate about what had taken place — how the Warriors, with the defense they developed over the weeks, built a 13-point lead in the first half and then under pressure from L.A.’s fine defense gave it up on turnovers and fouls.

“This is a bitter pill to swallow,” said Kerr. “This was our game, and we couldn’t get it done.”

They couldn’t even though the Warriors’ Draymond Green slowed Anthony Davis. Even though Andrew Wiggins shoved and battled LeBron.

But as Curry, who knows all about excellence — five trips to the NBA finals — said when asked about LeBron’s game-winner, “Great players make great plays.”

And make the opposing team hurt.

“He proved why he’s the best player in the world,” Lakers coach Frank Vogel said of James. 

LeBron was hit in the eye under the rim as he grabbed a rebound and made the decisive basket.

“After the finger in the eye, I was seeing three rims,” said James, sounding like an actor in a an old cowboy film, “and shot at the one in the middle. By grace I was able to knock it down.”

It wasn’t grace, it was talent..

According to ESPN statistics, that was the longest go-ahead shot in the final three minutes of his career.
Said Curry, “It’s a great shot. Broken play . . . thinking he was out of the play. They found him. He got his balance back in time and knocked it down.

“That was a tough one because you really don’t expect it to go in. But everything changed when it goes in.”

Kerr was both distressed and magnanimous. A few months back, when the Warriors had lost Klay Thompson with the torn Achilles and they were trying to build a team, he probably would have been satisfied with taking the Lakers to the final minute.

But with Wiggins playing like the No. 1 overall draft pick he was and with Juan Toscano-Anderson the surprise he has been, a loss, even to the defending NBA champs, was a downer.

“I’m very proud of the way the way we played,” Kerr said.

He ought to be. Proud and disappointed.

Federer, Serena both upset; was it age or opponent?

Time often is the athlete’s friend. The longer a game or a match or a tournament goes on, the better the chances of the favorite. Yet, as the years go by, time, the pal, the benefactor, becomes the enemy.

As surely it was Tuesday for the best tennis players of their time — arguably of all time — Roger Federer and Serena Williams.

In Geneva in his homeland, Switzerland — where he never loses — Federer was beaten 6-4. 4-6. 6-4 by Pablo Andujar of Spain.

You could say that Federer missed much of the 2020 season after two knee surgeries. You could say that Federer had not played since losing in Doha in March. You could say that the match was on clay, Federer’s least favorite surface.

You also could say that Federer is 39, which happens to be the same age as Serena, who in Parma, Italy, was stunned, 7-5 (4), 6-2, by somebody named Katarina Sinakova.

Williams was in the Emilia-Romagna Open as a wild-card invitee, after losing her opening match in the Italian Open in Rome. Along with Federer, she is preparing for the French Open (or if you prefer, Roland Garros), which starts May 30.

There are upsets, if rarely in the early rounds, and there are indications. Federer, with his record 20 Slams, and Serena, with her near-record 23, are not the players they once were and never will be again. It’s one thing to lose to Stan Wawrinka or Andy Murray. It’s another to lose to Pablo Andujar, ranked 78th (Federer is 8th).

Maybe Serena and Roger will accept their declining play without regret — Chris Evert said in her mind there was nothing wrong with being third in the world after Ranking No. 1 — but can we?

Does their popularity linger, or do the fans and the media, out of obligation, seek other choices?

Change is inevitable in sport, in life. Age brings injury — Federer was able to stay healthy for so long, but for him, as with others, pounding shots, catching flights, the body wears down.

You’re the king or the queen, but there’s always some new kid hovering over your shoulder.

Once, when things were tough, when losing seemed probable, Serena would power one of those monster serves or Federer could come up with a beautiful passing shot.

That’s why they were great. That’s why the people on the other side of the net ended up in awe and in defeat.

After beating Federer, Andujar, a 35-year-old from Spain, was as much in disbelief as in elation. “It’s amazing,” said Andujar. ”I still cannot believe it.”

A year or three ago, none of us would have believed it. But this is now, 2021, and Roger Federer is battling himself as much as his opponents.

He understands what he’s up against. The confidence ebbs as the years multiply, not that Roger and Serena would make that admission.

“It’s good to be back on the court,” Federer said candidly, “but then you lost a match like this, and you’re down. It never feels great. I was looking forward to playing here. No doubt about it. But this is a press conference where I have to explain why and how it all happened.”

That’s the price that champions pay. And no question, it’s much harder to explain why you lose than how you won — especially after all those wins, more than 100.

Serena had the same problem, telling us what was wrong, particularly since what was wrong may be as simple and unescapable as getting older.

Until now, she only got better.