Tennis thrives on oddballs, not bullies

WIMBLEDON, England — You want a sport of oddballs, characters, there’s baseball, Jim Piersall running the bases backwards. Or there’s tennis. Ilie Nastase was known as “Nasty” for more reasons than his given name.

Both games are virtually timeless. And what is tennis but hitting a ball back and forth across a net? Yawn.

Which is where Nick Kyrgios enters, and apparently from the comments, also entered Stefanos Tsitsipas’ head.

There was history the past 24 hours, although maybe not the sort you would expect at the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club.

Alas, it was the official termination or Middle Sunday. Yes, there have been rounds on four other Sundays since the club was created in the 1870s (and I was here for all four), but they were makeup calls, as it were, replacements for rainouts.

The Middle Sunday break gives a day off to both the grass courts, already turning a bit yellow, and the residents of Wimbledon, Borough of Merton, who live full-time in the area. It was a glorious tradition. But as is the case with so many other traditions, it fell victim to television revenue.

On this Sunday, Frances Tiafoe, the 24-year-old from Maryland, fell victim to the Belgian David Goffin, 7-6 (3), 5-7, 5-7, 6-4, 7-5.

The match went 4 hours, 36 minutes, the first set 70 minutes. Unlike Kyrgios’ win over Tsitsipas 24 hours earlier, there was respect and high praise from both sides.

“It was an unbelievable match,” said Tiafoe. “We both definitely left it out there.”

Contrast those comments with those from Tsitsipas, who condemned his opponent as a bully.

Wow. We’ve heard Kyrgios described as a jokester. As a goofball. As an entertainer. Even as a pest. But a bully? What did he do to take a couple of backhand swipes at his Greek foe, rather than the ball?

“It’s constant bullying,” was the Tsitspas contention. That sounds like something you’d hear in a third-grade class, not from a first-class tennis player.

He said Kyrgios had an evil side. “He was probably the bully in school. I don’t like bullies.”

He doesn’t like losing either, and a third-round defeat in what some say is the biggest tournament of any year must have been particularly disappointing. But griping is unneeded.

“I’m not sure how I bullied him,” said Kyrgios. “He was the one hitting balls at me.”

That’s a longtime tactic in tennis. But it goes with the territory, doesn’t it? You have to place shots where the other guy can’t handle them.

Tennis thrives on controversy. John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors, Serena Williams hollered and played their way into our thoughts. Serena’s blowup with the chair umpire in the 2018 U.S. Open lives on. Of course, screaming doesn’t equal or surpass winning.

That’s part of the reason for the outbursts from McEnroe.

Connors and Serena received so much attention. They won Grand Slam tournaments, Williams all four. Kyrgios still is trying to win one. But if nothing else, he did outlast Tsitsipas.

“Apart from me just going back and forth to the umpire,” Kyrgios said, “I did nothing against Steph.

“But I’d be pretty upset too if I lost to someone two weeks in a row. Maybe he should figure out how to beat me a couple more times and then we can talk.”

Bully that.

The making of an American tennis star

WIMBLEDON, England—The story may have been told, but it never gets old. Or less fascinating. His imigrant father helped build a tennis complex. Now Frances Tiafoe has built himself a game.

That’s the so-called American way, isn’t it?  Just keep plugging away—or in tennis, hitting away—and who knows what will happen.  You might advance to the third round of The Champioships which everyone from Chelsea to Cornwall knows is the very brief and British way to refer to Wimbledon.

For a few years,  Tiafoe and Taylor Fritz, both 24, have been called the great hopes of U.S men’s tennis (everybody who remembers Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi, Michael Chang, Jim Courier and Andy Roddick. Please wave).  They ain’t Rafa, Roger or Novak, and never will be, but they’ve been winning at Wimbledon this summer, and that’s progress of a sort.  On Saturday, Fritz defeated Alex Molcan, 6-4.6-1, 7-6. A day earlier, Tjafoe beat Alexander Bublik,  3-6, 7-6. 7-6, 6-4. You might expect Fritz to be a tennis star. His mother and father were champions.  But not Tiafoe, whose parents came to America to escape a civil war in Sierra Leone. 

Tiafoe’s dad needed work after arriving in the U.S.  He took a job as a day laborer building the National Junior Tennis Center in Maryland. Frances, allowed to play when construction was done, had an an opportunity.  He already had the talent.

The early years were difficult. Frances developed quick enough in high school, winnng titles, but he struggled as a young pro, and there was added pressure because of his background. Finally, success—confidence and yes arrogance.

 “I could have lost,”  he said, “but I wanted to win. Yeah there is always a bit of pressure in the Slams.”

For an American man it’s more than a bit. The nation, the networks would love a U.S. winner at Wimbledon  Or the U.S Open. A country of 350 million and we can’t  now and then win either of the two biggest tournaments on the globe? Please.

The danger is the young (top) guns will force the issue.  But if they can win at Indian Wells and Miami, why can’t they win at the All England Club or Flushing Meadows.

Apparently, Tiafoe thinks the same way. “I mean I liked grass when I played juniors here,” said Tiafoe.

So it’s not the surface that stops hm (or maybe the other Americans) it’s the competition.  Does one Spaniard who tugs at his wrist and headbands have more firepower than thousands of Americans?. It looks that way. 

Tiafoe was asked if at last year’s U.S. Open he said “There is no Nadal here, (injury,  no Federer here (retirement) the guys in the locker room are thinking, ‘Why not me?’ Is there that same sensibility here this year?”

Tiafoe said  there was although true Nadal is here, and Rafa can win any time anywhere, even on grass, his least favorite court. 

“There are opportunities to be had,” agreed Tiafoe. ”Guys are –I mean the game is shifting.  Even with those (veterans) playing, guys are beating them. You saw what  (Carlos) Alcaraz and Fritz did at Indian Wells.

“We are damn good.” insisted Tiafoe about the American men. “Playing great tennis.We feed off each other.  I think we believe can do even even better.”

Until one of them wins Wimbledon or the U.S. Open the words don’t mean a thing.

A Rafa Slam would be great for sports

WIMBLEDON, England—A third-round match against a player who already won two matches. Could Rafael been more concise about his next opponent at Wimbledon?

Or more understated?

But Lorenzo Sonego is special. . He’s a barrier, a blockage on a possible pathway to history—the man next in line to derail a rare chance for that most mystical of tennis achievements, the Grand Slam.

Only a year ago Novak Djokovic stood at the gate. He had won the Australian Open, the French Open (or if you choose Roland Garros) and Wimbledon. He was the top seed in the U.S. He was favored. Hew lost to Daniil Medvedev.

Grand Slam. Two words reflecting success in three sports, baseball, golf and tennis, if in varying degrees; home runs with the bases loaded are hardly unique, especially in this era when everyone swings for the fences (and too often strike out).

There have been a few in tennis the first in the men’s game in 1938 by Don Budge, who grew up in Oakland and for whom the courts  in Bushrod Park now are named; the last in by Rod Laver ln 1969.

The term comes from cards, contract bridge, winning all the tricks. It transitioned to sports when golfer Bobby Jones in 1930 won the U.S. and British Opens and U..S. and British Amateurs. Then apparently Allison Danzig of the New York Times applied it  to a aweep of the tennis titles.

In the days before their publications demanded frequent Twitter and Facebook updates, sports writers had time for plenty of bridge or poker.

The issue here, or course, is how Nadal and the men he faces in this Wimbledon—Djokovic won again Friday—play tennis. So far Rafa has been effective if not  impressive.

 As you know, Nadal is 37  coming off a foot injury and has won more of the tournaments comprising the Grand Slam, 22, than anyone else.  Yet, he remains noncommittal about maybe taking all four in this calendar year. Properly so.

The fact he won in Australia ln February on a hard court, in  Paris ln June on  a clay court might not mean much when he’s on a grass court in England in July.

Or it could mean everything. The hope is to adapt to the change in surfaces  and opponents.

The second week of this Wimbledon could be a particular joy,  assuming Nadal makes it that far—and with his skill and the vocal support of a crowd lacking the semi-retired Roger Federe, Nadal should, Rafa  can use it. sportrs can use it.  We just had the jolt of Steph Curry. How about a nudge from Nadal?

Part of our fascination with Wimbledon is it fills a gap. The NBA and NHL seasons are finished. The NFL is yet to begin. Baseball is trapped in its mid-summer ennui. 

Nadal might not seem up to the task, But he has surprised before. He was reluctant for a while to compete at Wimbledon,  conceding he never could adjust the surface.

Then at last he entered—and beat Federer in one the classic finai matches.

Nadal is mentally tough (not that the others are not. He was hurting at Roland Garros, and the doubterd wondered if he would make it to the end. It turned out he was the end. But he’s not thinking of reaching the end.

“It’s normasl that folks talk abour retirement of great athletes." Nadal.”told a gathering of media unconcerned with his serve or forehand.

“My philosophy is that a  couple weeks ago I was close to it. Now I don’t feel that way. I mean. Personally  what I love to see is

Tiger Woods.  Now I’m not seeing Tiger Woods.”

 We’re stlll seeing Rafael Nadal, and it would be great to see him continue his run for the Grand Slam.

Plaque still at Wimbledon, and so is Isner

WIMBLEDON, England — The plaque remains at Wimbledon, and three rounds into this year’s tournament so does John Isner. Not that he won’t always have a presence here, as much in myth as memory.

He is 37 now. Isner, nearing the end of a career that has produced highlights — that plaque? Wimbledon doesn’t celebrate the ordinary — but never a Grand Slam championship.

That glorious reward remained a possibility, albeit a distant one. But if you’re in the draw, and Isner definitely is, facing the young Italian Jannik Sinner on Friday, anything can happen.

After all, on Wednesday Isner, as always his billed cap turned backwards like he was a baseball catcher, stunned both Andy Murray and an almost obnoxiously but understandably one-sided crowd at Centre Court with a 6-4, 7-6, 6-7, 6-4 victory.

“I did some good things,” Isner said in summary. One of those was defeating Murray for the first time in nine matches.

As pointed out, in a sport where it’s one person against another head to head and shots that normally clear the net miss it by inches, anything can happen.

So much of life is timing. As is so much of tennis. Isner is 6-foot-9, as one might suppose able to angle and power serves (as much as 157 mph, they say) out of sight.

If he had arrived at Wimbledon in the early 1980s, when grass court tennis was a serve-and-volley competition, when Boris Becker and Stefan Edberg were boring and impressing us, who knows how many titles he might have won?

But the pooh-bahs decided there had to be an ace and a reason for ground strokes. So the famed lawns at Wimbledon and the balls both were redone. Sure, there still are aces, but there also are drop shots, and when the guy on the other side of the net is as tall as an NBA center, you hit low and keep your hopes high.

Isner, who grew up in North Carolina where basketball reigns, went to Georgia to play tennis, and could hit the serves and overheads, if never the jackpot, although he was a Wimbledon semifinalist in 2018.

Not that his victory over Murray wasn’t important. Isner called it the top of the list. Murray achieved godlike status in 2012 when he became the first Brit (Murray is a Scot) to win Wimbledon in 77 years. Then he won it again.

“I’m not the player he is,” Isner said of Murray. Whatever, he was enough of a player against Murray, who admittedly has been fighting his way back after hip surgery.

“Yeah, I played in my mind incredibly well,” said Isner. “Of course I served well, but I was thinking outside of my serve I did some good things. Of course, I didn’t win many baseline rallies with Andy, but I think I did what I needed to get a (service) break in the first and fourth set.

“My serve carried me from there.”

It was the 2010 Wimbledon in which Isner had his greatest effect on the game and event in an affair of fate, fable and exhaustion. He faced Nicolas Mahut, another spectacular server.

Play started on a Monday (opening day) and ended on Wednesday. Serve. Ace. Serve. No return. Ad infinitum. But fascinating and historical. A 6-4, 3-6, 6-7, 7-6, 70-68 win. A plaque on the brick wall, “The longest match was played on court 18…”

A plaque removed and replaced. A revision in the rules of fifth-set tie-breakers. A disenchantment.

“That’s all I ever get asked about,” said Isner.

Of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The competition, however, was hot.

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

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

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

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

Scheffler figured to have the best chance. He stumbled.

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

One shot is all the differential you need.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe the biggest of them all.

Zalatoris has his chance for a major

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

Now all he needs is the victory and the nickname.

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

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

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

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

Ah, but golf can be the meanest of games.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In a way, it is just about to start.

An Open of smiling gods and shots off carpets

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friday he earned a place in golfing lore.

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

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

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

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

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

And taking a shot off a carpet.

Rory a leader in more than one way

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who wouldn’t?

Phil never afraid to take a shot or a chance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steph and Rory hit Boston at the same time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Does Steph already rank with Willie and Joe?

Go ahead and toss up the names, the way Steph Curry might a long jumper: the Bay Area’s most compelling athletes.

The list is arbitrary, of course, people who touch the headlines but no less importantly touch the heart.

You start with Willie Mays, naturally, one of a kind, and if you didn’t have the great fortune to see him play in person, surely you’ve caught the films, of him catching a fly ball or hitting a home run.

After that? Surely Joe Montana, who starting with one poignant pass play helped turn a franchise of mediocrity into one of destiny.

No, the selections are as much dependent on priority as history: Reggie Jackson, Willie McCovey, Catfish Hunter, Jerry Rice, Rick Barry, Patrick Marleau — the choice is yours. Except for the guy who had that game of games on Friday night, the guy who virtually alone kept the Warriors alive for yet another championship, Curry.

That was some achievement, that stunning 107-97 Warriors win over the Celtics and an angry, aggressive, foul-mouthed crowd in Boston. The Warriors hit the boards. The Warriors played defense. The Warriors hit the jackpot.

There is a reluctance to make this personal, but I have been covering their games since the 1960s, for the Chronicle, the Examiner, the Oakland Tribune; covered 17- and 22-win seasons; covered their championships in ’75 and in ’15. ’17 and ’18. But I can’t remember a more impressive and emotional victory as the one on Friday.

So many factors, so many people. Indeed, basketball is a team game — hit the open man — but in no other team sport is the individual as important. He — or she — can shoot, dribble, rebound, pass and play defense. It’s what he does with the ball and what he does when the other team has the ball.

And what he does for his teammates.

Curry has had bigger scoring nights than the one Friday when he finished with 43 — there was a 50-pointer earlier this season — but perhaps not one as significant.

He was on a bad foot. He was on a franchise trailing two games to one. But Curry got on a tear. Once more.

“The heart on that man is incredible,” said teammate Klay Thompson. “You know, the things he does we kind of take for granted from time to time, but to go out there and put us on his back, I mean, we’ve got to help him out on Monday. Wow.”

Yes, wow. Monday, Game 5 of the best-of-seven NBA finals will be at Chase Center, where the fans who could get no closer than a TV screen — at a watch party or a tavern or their own home — will be able to express their joy and appreciation.

What is sport but another form of entertainment, if dictated by results and a scoreboard? The Warriors have captured the imagination of the region, mainly because of their success but also for their style.

Curry always has been likable. At 6-foot-3, a relatively small man in a supposed big man’s game, he can swish 25-foot baskets with disarming ease, which only contributes to his appeal.

This has been pointed out through the years, about stars such as Montana and Jim Plunkett and Buster Posey.

Curry is unique. He’s been called the best shooter ever. He’s a treasure. And not least, he comes across as a pleasant, well-meaning person. In a crazy world, Steph seems a symbol of sanity.

And he’s not bad with 3-point shots either.

Warriors up against Celtics, profanities

Steph Curry was trying to persuade us, if not himself. The Warriors, he said with a quiet affirmation, have been here before.

Not really. They haven’t been down 2-1 in an NBA final with the next game — in this case, Friday night — at TD Garden in Boston, where banners hang and obscenities fly.

They haven’t faced a lineup as muscular and physical as that of the Celtics, who don’t take the air out of the basketball but with their height and weight have been able to take the Warriors out of their game.

Michael Wilbon, on “Pardon the Interruption” Thursday, said don’t put too much into one result. The playoffs historically are inconsistent, coaches installing changes virtually as soon as they watch the videos.

But what are the Warriors to do about Jason Tatum? Or Jaylen Brown? Or Marcus Smart, who roughed them up Wednesday night, transforming what had been athletic ballet for the Dubs, soaring and scoring, into a pulling match?

What the Warriors are to do with their own tough guy, Draymond Green — who, alas wasn’t tough at all, calling himself “soft” — is wait.

“Everybody has bad games,” said Warriors guard Klay Thompson, who scoring 25 points (second to Curry’s 31) had a very good one.

“Draymond is a reason we’re here. We wouldn’t be the Warriors without Draymond. He brought us to heights we’d never seen before.”

Klay means to the finals a sixth time in eight years and to a championship three times in five years.

Thompson himself is a huge part of the equation. The question is how can the Warriors find their offensive magic against the defense-minded Celtics?

There is no question the Boston fans use language that, to borrow a line, would make a sailor blush. “All those F-bombs,” said Thompson.

But of course. You want to know about the people who go to sporting events in Boston, check into some of the things they yelled at Ted Williams at Fenway Park. Oh my.

The playoff games in Boston don’t start until a few minutes after 9 p.m. eastern time. What are you going to do until then, walk the Freedom Trail? It’s not that everyone is a lush, but there’s a reason the Patriots didn’t play Monday Night Football games at old Schaefer Stadium.

The game the Warriors play Friday night will include Curry, Steph promised on Thursday. “It would be tough without him,” agreed Thompson. Late in Game 3, Boston’s 6-foot-9, 240-pound Al Horford landed on Curry’s frequently injured ankle.

But he was able to walk gingerly off the floor and return to the game. Been there, done that, in effect was what Curry, iced and taped, said on Thursday.

“Plenty of times before,” reminded Curry. “It wasn’t as bad as It seemed when it first happened.”

Steph pointed out the Warriors couldn’t get their points mainly because Boston got too many. So much of the Warriors offense is predicated on how they play — or in Game 3, didn’t play — defense.

At their best, they’re grabbing rebounds and sweeping down court. For that to occur once more, even against the rugged Celtics, is not an impossibility. Even in Boston.

“We’ve been in hostile environments before,” said Curry. “We can’t get too emotional. We’ve clawed our way back, did it the last game.”

Indeed, from an 18-point deficit in the first half, the Warriors worked themselves into a lead in the third quarter.

Encouraging. Enervating. Especially against the Celtics, who rebound so aggressively and keep trying to knock you down while, in NBA lingo, you keep trying to knock down the shots.

“I think it’s just playing better, playing harder, playing as a unit,” Thompson said about the key. “I don’t think we need to make incredible adjustments. I just think we need to come out with that force, that Warriors brand of ball that has been so successful this past decade.”

If he doesn’t think so, why should anyone else?

Warriors win by playing Celtics ball

SAN FRANCISCO—The Warriors stayed in the Game playing Celtics basketball—knocking down people as well as knocking down shots—until they could win the game playing Warriors basketball.

The team that three days earlier lost the ball and then, stunningly the lead in the first game of the NBA Finals, creating panic among the fans, if not the players, on Sunday night turned into a blast from the past. 
 In a third-quarter as memorable as any for a franchise that over the years and through the string of playoff appearances has become historic for the way it dominates that period, the Dubs outscored the Boston Celtics by  21 points 35-14. Wow!

They did it, much to the delight of the boisterous Chase Center crowd, which from the very start chanted “Defense, defense,” by keeping the Celtics from getting baskets as well as making their own and winning the game, 107-88.

Yes, the best-of-seven series is tied at a game apiece, and with the two games in Boston and the Celtics having captured the home-court advantage, the Warriors hardly are in control.

 But now resurgent, they are very much in the competition.

 And, of course, Draymond Green,  pounding, grabbing, shoving—hey, this is the NBA not a pickup league—was the man in charge.

After Game 1 the guy who’s the emotional leader, as well as the key defender, showed the way he always does in times of need. Once again the Warriors follow a post-season defeat with a victory.

 Asked if Draymond was “more engaged,”  Warriors coach Steve Kerr said, “Yeah, I thought everybody was more engaged. It was obvious our level of force and physicality was ramped up quite a bit.

“What Boston did in the fourth quarter in game 1 (outscoring the Dubs, 40-16) we knew we had to come with a much better focus and sense of aggression and I thought that started right from the beginning. .Draymond played a huger role in that.”

Yes, Steph topped the Warriors scoring, with 29, but he too played the defense necessary in one of those old-fashioned wrestling matches in sneakers when there seem to be as many uncalled fouls as missed shots.

Known for their quickness if movement and 3-pointers, the Warriors, scored when it counted, that fateful third, showed they can get as tough and nasty as anybody in the lead. The belief that defense wins (basketball, football, baseball, hockey, soccer) is never to be doubted.

When Curry was told Kerr and Green both reminded the Warriors that they never get credit for their defense, he said, “It’s always been a point of emphasis in terms of trying to win basketball games. You do your job. Over the course of my career, it’s been a physical development that happened over time. But at the end of the day, from my rookie year, it’s been about efforts. A lot of work has gone into that.”

Kerr knows all about it.

“Steph was breathtaking in that third quarter,” said the coach.

And not only because in one of those classic Curry outbursts he scored 14 points in the period.  

“Their defensive effort. He doesn’t get enough credit for hjs level of physicality, conditioning and defense.  People try to wear him down, because they know how important he is to us offensively.

“So the guy’s amazing. He just keeps working on his game, his strength,  his conditioning.”

 Which is one reason the Warriors have worked themselves back against the rough-guy Celtics.

Lessons from a leader named Draymond

There’s a fearless quality in basketball players. ``Someone  ventured long ago, it’s a sport where you play without a place to hide,  in a dugout, under a helmet, behind pads.

You’re exposed. Your failures, turnovers, missed assignments are there for anyone to see.

So basketball players are talkers, communicators.

There’s an honesty in the sport. Either the ball went in or it didn’t, and you don’t require a lot of explanation.

That’s why listening to Draymond Green is as enjoyable as watching him play.

Tuesday, some 48 hours before Green and the    

Warriors begin the NBA finals against the Boston Celtics, an organization worthy of many a conversation,

Green was expansive. And why not? The man has his own podcast.

He’s a communicator. A critic. A collaborator.

And to use another word that begins with “C,” a coach on the floor.  Steph Curry and Klay Thompson, the Splash Brothers, the scorers (in time Jordan Poole may join the brotherhood).

Draymond Green is the organizer, and of course, the defender. He’s also the second-round pick in a league dominated by first-rounders. Yes, it has an effect on his psyche.

And style.

Seven years since the Dubs began their run, and Green, as we all do, thought about the movement of time. Someone mentioned viewing a photo of that 2015 team.

  “Yeah, you like my hair?”  asked Green. He’s lost some of it in the intervening years, but he hasn’t lost any intensity. Or aside from the period with Covid-19 or the injuries to Klay Thompson, hasn’t lost many games.

Winning begets winning. So even in those difficult times with

Curry and Klay injured, there was a platform. “That is a help for the younger guys, said Green. “Once you’ve been a champion you never quit, because you know what it takes. Some guys on losers stop trying. We never did.

  “From the very beginning we could look across the boards and see Steph and Klay and Andre (Iguodala) and the way they worked. It was a lesson I want our young players to learn.”

 This led to the issue of Warriors culture.

Does it exist? And if so how is it defined?

“”It’s our way of doing things,” said Green. “Of working and playing hard. Of helping each other. Of doing everything the best way.”

“Once the NBA’s defensive player of the year, Green, this season missing a block of games because he was hurt, was selected only to NBA’s defensive second team.’

  “I consider that an insult,” he insisted. “You miss games and they (the selectors) hold it against you.  When I played I was no different than I’ve always been.”

 If the Warriors are not, it doesn’t matter. They and Draymond Green are exactly where they want to be, about to play for the championship of basketball.

Pederson’s HRs help keep Giants relevant

SAN FRANCISCO — It wasn’t as if the Giants had become irrelevant. Not after posting the best record in baseball a year ago.

But they were getting pounded of late. And the headlines belonged to the Warriors, who were a step away from the finals. And the 49ers, never in the shadows, were holding drills.

So what the Giants did the past couple of days was of considerable importance. Not only did they end a painful five-game losing streak, but they won consecutive games in a manner that made one ask, “Where did that come from?”

There they were at the beginning of the home stand, getting beat 10-1 and 13-3. The games not only were unwinnable, but for the local populace unwatchable. Yes, Kruk and Kuip have some wonderful anecdotes, but how about some runs?

Like sevens come, elevens come — to borrow a line from the old baseball musical “Damn Yankees” — in the nick of time those runs came, many off the bat of Joc Pederson, some more from the finally healthy and resurgent Evan Longoria.

On Tuesday night, after an advisory talk from a guy named Barry Bonds — who well knows the art of hitting — Pederson slugged three home runs, had eight RBI and in one of those crazy classics, the Giants overcame leads, blew leads and beat the Mets, 13-12.

"It was probably the best offensive performance that I've ever been around, considering all things, like big moments in the game, the ability to be resilient even in that last at-bat against one of the tougher relievers in baseball," said Giants manager Gabe Kapler. "It was the best individual performance I've seen."

Then Wednesday afternoon, in the sunshine at Oracle Park, Kapler decided to give the left-handed batting Pederson a rare start against a lefty, the Mets’ Thomas Szapucki.

Joc hit another homer, his fourth in 15 hours or so and 11th of the season; Longoria hit his first two of the year after being on the injured list for more than a month. Mike Yastrzemski hit one, and the Giants breezed, 9-3, on a mildly windy day, pun intended.

“If nothing else, you know when a player like Joc steps in the batter’s box today, he has a good idea of where the barrel is,” Kapler said. “That just means you have this feeling in your hands, in your body, about where the sweetest spot on the bat is.”

While the Giants, who now begin a road trip at Cincinnati, were in their funk, Kapler played the manager role perfectly, which is not getting too down in a losing streak or too enthusiastic in a winning streak. He pointed out the little things that cost his team games and contended they were correctable.

What he couldn’t foresee was Pederson, who grew up in Palo Alto, having a few days like Bonds or Babe Ruth. Yet that was the hope of the Giants front office when he was signed as a free agent during the winter.

According to Susan Slusser of the San Francisco Chronicle, for his walk-up music — got to have your own, of course — Pederson has been using ABBA’s “Dancing Queen.”

Whatever works, as they say. But please, no spangled clothes.

What worked for Longoria was being patient as he recovered from finger surgery during spring training. Then he was out Tuesday with a jammed left shoulder. The two long balls Wednesday indicate he’s ready.

So perhaps are the not-ready-to-be-irrelevant Giants.

After PGA, Thomas elated, Tiger sore

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

His golfing future seems secure.

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

His golfing future seemed questionable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Justin Thomas: Good words, great shots

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daly and Tiger: At PGA, the past was present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks, Tiger. Wish John was just as communicative.

Golf, politics and money: a PGA without Phil

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fore!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But most of all, Woods is a golfer.

A golfer who has survived and will never concede.

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

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

Who could be disappointed in that?