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.

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.

Masters success still elusive for Rory; he shoots a 76

Sam Snead won 82 pro golf tournaments, more than Jack Nicklaus, more than Gary Player. More than anyone except Tiger Woods, who also has 82 victories.

But Snead never won the U.S. Open, and that bothered him until his final days.

The four majors, the tournaments we remember, the ones we remember. Or in the case of Snead, choose not to forget. Snead won three of the four, as did Arnold Palmer and Phil Mickelson.

Rory McIlroy also has three. He lacks the Masters, and although Rory is skilled enough, and days from his 32nd birthday young enough, it is legitimate to wonder if that shortcoming can be conquered.

Not only because of what McIlroy shot Thursday in the opening round of the 2021 Masters, a 4-over-par 76 that left him 11 shots behind Justin Rose, whose play at Augusta National of late has been as exciting as McIlroy’s has been discouraging, but because McIlroy seems perplexed by what continues to happen year after year — from heartbreak (that collapse in 2011 when he shot 40 the back nine) to humor (on Thursday he hit his own father in the small gallery with an approach shot to the seventh green).

“Obviously there have been a few rounds where I’ve put myself behind the 8-ball, not being able to get any momentum,” McIlroy said Tuesday when asked to describe his relationship with a course that should fit his game.

“But they all are learning lessons, and you just try to go out next time and do a little better.”

What he did the first day here was par the first four holes, then bogey the next three. You win at Augusta by making birdies, and McIlroy had only two on 8 and 15, both par-5s. Yes, the greens were hard and slick, and the wind was blowing, but you’re talking about a young man who has been No. 1 in the world rankings.

“It was tricky,” said McIlroy. Not so tricky, one must remark, that Rose couldn’t shoot 65, even though he was 2 over par after seven holes.

Surely there’s a zone of comfort — in 2017, Rose tied Sergio Garcia for first and lost in a playoff — or a zone of discomfort. Ten years on, what befell McIlroy remains the stuff of nightmares.

Tied for first with the final nine holes to go, McIlroy yanked his drive from the 10th tee so far left the ball nearly smacked into one of those buildings Augusta calls cabins and took a triple bogey. He followed that with a four-putt double bogey at 12. A final score of 80 dropped him into 15th.

Other majors, the U.S. Open, the PGA, the British, rotate among several courses. The Masters goes nowhere. It’s always at Augusta National, and so are the memories and agonies.

The Masters is back. So is Rory. So are the same questions.

Sort of golf’s version of the film Groundhog Day. Say, Rory, can we talk about where the ball landed at 10?

What McIlroy discussed after his round Thursday was everything from plunking his dad down at the seventh to the instructor with whom he once worked and again is providing assistance, Pete Cowen.

“My goal is to play well,” said McIlroy, “at least give myself a chance. Honestly, I’m quite encouraged the way I hit it on the way in. I think anytime you’re working with things on your swing it’s going to feel different.”

His father? “I knew it was my dad when I was aiming at him,” McIlroy said. “Give him an autographed glove? I don’t know. He needs to go and put some ice on it. Maybe I’ll autograph a bag of frozen peas.”

Tiger Woods ‘lucky to be alive’

The vehicle was wrecked. So, seemingly, was what remains of Tiger Woods’ fabulous career.

A serious accident involving one of the most famous athletes of our time. Four words from a deputy sheriff: “Lucky to be alive.”

A sigh of relief from the sporting world. Really, from the world beyond sports.

Woods was in a hurry. Aren’t we all? The investigation, which will take weeks, should let us know exactly what happened on Tuesday morning, and why.

Until then, we surmise

Woods, not impaired according to Los Angeles County sheriff Alex Villanueva — this was on the Palos Verdes Peninsula, L.A. County, not L.A. city. He zoomed down a hill where almost no one heeds the 45 mph speed limit.

He was driving a 2021 Genesis GV 80 SUV, which was both understandable — Woods had been involved in the Genesis Invitational at Riviera, which ended on Sunday — and fortunate.

Carlos Gonzalez, the deputy who told us Woods was “lucky to be alive,” pointed out not only was Tiger wearing his safety belt but that the Genesis SUV 80 “speaks to the construction of the modern automobile — they’re safer than they’ve ever been.”

But they can’t drive themselves. Yet with Woods as the sole occupant, the SUV, heading north through a residential area, toward a TV shoot, hit a median, ripped into a sign welcoming people to Rolling Hills Estates, tore out a small tree and ended up on its side.

The windshield had to be broken out to extricate Woods, who was taken by ambulance to Harbor-UCLA Medical Center in Torrance and underwent surgery on both legs.

Recovery will take a long time. Tiger’s people are notoriously secret, as is Tiger himself, but we can guess it will be months.

So awful. So ironic. Woods has been unable to play since his fifth back surgery in December. On the CBS telecast of the Genesis, Jim Nantz asked Tiger if in seven weeks he would be competing in the Masters — which as always will be telecast on CBS,

“God, I hope so,” he told Nantz. ”I’ve got to get there first. A lot of it is based on my surgeons and doctors and therapist and making sure I do it correctly. This is the only back I’ve got. I don’t have much more wiggle room left.”

Now that room has been wiggled away. Woods won’t be at the 2021 Masters as a player. We can only hope he might be there as a guest, “a non-competing invitee,” which as a Masters champion he’ll always remain.

Probably no chance.

He has 82 Tour victories, sharing first with Sam Snead. He has 15 major championship victories, three fewer than Jack Nicklaus. After this terrible day, will he ever have another win of any type? And if he doesn’t, will it matter?

“Show me a hero, and I’ll write you a tragedy,” said F. Scott Fitzgerald, a quote with numerous explanations. Woods has had so many heroic moments, and even before this crash enough tragic ones.

Our futures are uncharted. The best of times spin away with frightening rapidity. We’re left gasping as joy becomes sorrow.

Woods has lived in Florida since turning pro in 1997, but his base and his buddies are in southern California. The accident occurred maybe 30 miles from where he grew up and became a star. This was the worst of homecomings.

The CHP and sheriffs set up at the site after the accident, blocking traffic and taking notes, which is normal. One almost could imagine as they filled their notebooks with the details, they instead were golfers filling out scorecards.

The drive Tiger took on Tuesday wasn’t off a tee. He lost control of a car, not the ball. As the deputy pointed out, Woods is lucky to be alive.

A sobering thought, but also a reassuring one.

Daniel Berger gets even with Pebble

PEBBLE  BEACH, Calif. — No celebrities or laughs at this AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, but more than enough joy and heartbreak on a course that through the years as proved to be as much of a beast as it is a beauty.

This was golf at its purest, in a tournament going forward under Covid-19 restrictions and with none of the players currently in the world’s top 10 — golf that may have lacked star power, but certainly not drama.

Daniel Berger won it Sunday. Or did many of the others lose it? An unfair question, perhaps, because all those guys on the Tour, from first to last, are wonderfully talented. Or they wouldn’t be on Tour.

Still, it’s a sport of missed shots and bad breaks, and the guy who ends up on top often is the one who keeps his cool along with his well-practiced swing.

Which is what Berger was able to do, if a day late but not a dollar short. Well, make that $1.4 million, the prize Berger earned, shooting a 7-under 65 on Sunday for an 18-under-par 270.

Maverick McNealy, a few years out of Stanford, shot 66 for a 272, while Jordan Spieth, three and a half years without a win — he led by a shot after three rounds — had a 70 and tied Patrick Cantlay, who shot 68, for third at 273.

No less a story, and a sad one, is Nate Lashley, who was tied with Berger for the lead going into 16, had a 12-foot putt to save par but then proceeded to miss it — and the next three, four-putting for a quadruple bogey seven. He finished with 69 for 274.

They tell us golf can be a cruel game, but for the 27-year-old Berger, it was a game of response. After leaving Pebble on Saturday with that double bogey — and he didn’t drive into Carmel Bay, but out of bounds in the other direction — Berger burst out with an eagle on the second hole.

Sixteen holes later he had another eagle 3, on the famed finisher — the 18th, the same hole where he had the 7 a day earlier. Yes, he can power the ball.

On Saturday, Berger became the second person in 4,000-plus shots to drive the green of Pebble’s 403-yard, par-four fourth. Good for a one-putt eagle.

Berger is the son of Jay Berger, who played tennis well enough to reach the quarterfinals of the 1989 French Open. Daniel once swung a racket. Then he started swinging 5-irons.

The 18th at Pebble is a 540-yard par-5 with water all along the left side and a few of those elegant (and expensive) mansions along the right side, thus the OB Berger recorded on Saturday. The last time anyone eagled it in the AT&T was back in the 1980s.  

 “Any time you do anything historical here at Pebble Beach, you know you accomplished something special,” Berger observed after his fifth win on Tour.

“(Saturday) I just kind of flared it. Today I stepped up there, and I wanted to be as aggressive as possible, and I would rather go down swinging than making a conservative swing that doesn't end up really well.

“Today I hit one of the best 3-woods in my life. I wanted to win. I didn't want to lose it on the last.“

Spieth lost it earlier. He birdied two, then bogied three and five. The unwritten rule at Pebble is get birdies and pars on the front — then hang. Unless you’re Daniel Berger, of course.

”It was just a really poor first six holes,” said Spieth. “And out here, that's where you can score. I talked about getting off to a good start, and standing on the 7 tee it was nice to birdie that hole, but all in all, I really knew that I needed to have a couple birdies to withstand anything that could come on the back nine. 

“I needed to be a couple under through 6, and I was 1-over — and really that was the difference.”

 Along with Daniel Berger’s play.

In a round of wrong shots, Jordan Spieth makes the right one

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — So many shots in a round of golf, maybe 60-something or 70-something. So many chances to go wrong, particularly on a winter’s day along the central California coast when there’s morning rain and afternoon wind, and those poa annua greens have more bumps than a bad road.

So many chances to make the wrong shot. Or, in the case of Jordan Spieth, wobbling, bogeying, headed for disappointment once more, to make the right shot, the miracle shot, the shot that oh-so-suddenly changed the direction of this year’s AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am.

It came on Pebble’s 16th, the hole that slopes down a slight grade full of bunkers. There’s a distant view of the water and the tee of the famous 18th. The 16th is a 403-yard, par-4 where in the 1970s, Johnny Miller shanked a ball that would turn into a win for Jack Nicklaus, back when the tournament was named the Crosby.

Miller won this tournament twice, and Spieth on Saturday put himself into position to do same when he holed his second shot on 16, an 8-iron from 158 yards that bounced, spun and dropped into the cup as an eagle two.

Spieth had bogied 10, 12 and 14. He was falling apart again on the back nine. Then, plunk, he was back together.

“It's a good lesson to learn for (Sunday),” said Spieth, “How quickly things can change out here. Make that turn on the 12th tee and you’re just trying to hold on for dear life into the wind.”

The AT&T is far from over. Spieth saved himself, shot a 1-under-par 34-37—71 for a three-day total of 203, 13 under. But he’s only two shots ahead of five others, Patrick Cantlay (71 on Saturday), Russell Knox (69), Nate Lashley (68), Tom Hoge (68) and Daniel Berger (72).

Berger had his own tales of brilliance (he became only the second golfer besides Davis Love, in more than 4,000 shots, to drive the green of the 403-yard fourth hole, making an eagle 2) and agony (tied for the lead, he drove out of bounds on 18 and had a double-bogey 7).

Indeed, anything can happen, and since Spieth won the 2017 British Open, his third major, what’s happened to him has been not been enjoyable — or satisfying. He’s gone winless. Which is why that shot, and maybe this tournament, could be momentous. As the 27-year-old Spieth concurs.

“I would say definitely more so,” he responded when asked if that eagle boosted his confidence.

“I feel that I've left quite a few shots out on the course, whether it was — not really on Thursday, but definitely Friday and (Saturday), and I'm in the position I want to be in.”

Berger, a Tour winner who is the son of tennis pro Jay Berger, has similar optimistic thoughts, despite that double-bogey on his last hole of this long day. “I mean, it's a hard day when it blows at Pebble,” said Berger, as if it doesn’t always blow at Pebble.

“So overall I'm pretty happy. Obviously I would like that swing back on the last hole, but I'm not going to let it ruin my week, for sure.”

The week has been ruined for golf fans, who through the decades of an event that was started by Bing Crosby in the 1930s were attracted by celebrity amateurs such as Dean Martin and Bill Murray. Because of Covid-19 restrictions, there were no amateurs or fans.

What there was, then, was an event packed with plenty of drama and the continuing question of when and if Jordan Spieth will again win a tournament.

“I don't really care about the timeframe stuff,” Spieth insisted. “I'm really just going to throw that out of my head because I'm finally consistently doing things over the last two weeks that I've wanted to do for a long time.

“I think, obviously the more you continue to do that, the bounces go your way, like the hole-out did today on 16. Someone may do that to me (Sunday) or come shoot a 64 or something. I mean, it's golf and it's Pebble Beach — and you can go low, and it can also be really challenging.”

Or, as indicated by that magical shot on 16, really rewarding.

Phil in the water and out of the AT&T; John Daly looking like Moses

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — So Dustin Johnson withdrew and Tiger Woods rarely enters, but let’s not dwell on the negative, which golfers and journalists seem to emphasize, even when the sun shines — which it did Friday afternoon on the Monterey Peninsula.

True, Phil Mickelson hit two balls into Carmel Bay off Pebble Beach’s 18th and another into the backyard of one of those mega-million-dollar mansions along the 14th.

And John Daly, with a long white beard that made him look like Moses, missed the cut. And first-round leader Patrick Cantlay was 11 shots higher than the first round.

But think about Jordan Spieth, out front after 36 holes and in great shape to win for the first time in three and a half years.

Or the city manager in adjacent Carmel, who will collect a $100 fine, as the signs warn, from anyone reckless enough to appear on the streets of the formerly quaint little burg without a face mask.

Yes, Covid-19 times everywhere you wanted to wander, whether to the course, where there are no amateurs, celebrity or otherwise, or to the Hog’s Breath Inn, formerly owned by Clint Eastwood, who formerly was mayor of Carmel — and before that, a movie star.

If Clint, a longtime AT&T tournament board member (and formerly an entrant) will no longer play “Misty” for us, well, the mist is supposed to return for Saturday’s third round — Crosby weather.

Unfortunately Mickelson, who won the tournament five times (as did Mark O’Meara), will not return for the third round. For what was announced as only the fifth time in 2,507 tournament rounds as a pro, Phil failed to break 80. The 80 he recorded along with his 74 on Thursday at Spyglass Hill gave him a 154. The cut was 143.

Mickelson has been doing better on the Champions Tour, guys 50 and over. Phil turned 50 in June. Daly, 54, has been on the Champions Tour full time, even after being diagnosed for bladder cancer.

“I’m not shaving until I’m cured,” said a courageous Daly. Against the younger guys here at Pebble and Spyglass, Daly shot 80-77 — 157.

That was one stroke lower than Kamaiu Johnson, 27, who was playing in a Tour event for the first time. Johnson was found outside a course in Tallahassee, Fla., swinging a stick, invited to take lessons and won on the Advocates Tour. Johnson next will play in the Honda.

The Tour can be difficult, even when you’re a champion. Spieth won the Masters and U.S. Open in 2015, other events including the 2017 AT&T and then in July 2017 the British Open at Royal Birkdale.

But nothing since, and so he’s been asked again and again when the drought will end. He shot a 61 in last weekend’s Waste Management Phoenix Open, and even if he did not win — Brooks Koepka did — Spieth was satisfied.

As he was on Saturday after a 67 at Spyglass for 132. Daniel Berger, a winner on Tour, shot 66 at Pebble for 133. Henrik Norlander was at 64-70—134, while Cantlay, starting off the 10 at Spyglass with a lost ball and a bogey, had a 73 — compared to his 62 Thursday at Pebble.

“I'm in great position after the midway point,” said Spieth. “So I feel a little bit improved, getting better each day. Yeah, I made a ton of longer putts, like in order to be in the lead like normal, which is probably a really good sign that I'm keeping the ball in front of me and striking it really nicely, and a couple mistakes here or there. Other than that, it was really clean.”

Said Cantlay: “It wasn't that bad after that first tee shot. I didn't make very many putts, hit a lot of good putts, and the greens, like always, are just bumpy and I wasn't able to get many to go in. But all in all, I played pretty good today.

“Just obviously two shots worse, just not finding the golf ball.”

Not all golfers emphasize the negative — unlike all journalists.

Cantlay takes advantage of Pebble: 10 birdies, no bogies

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — This was a day to play Pebble Beach, a day, gray and quiet, for tourists to wrap themselves in sweaters and dreams, a day for a golfer to go after a course that without the elements virtually begged you to make birdies.

Which on Thursday, in the opening round of the 2021 AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, is what Patrick Cantlay did. Not that he was alone.

Cantlay is one of those guys just on the fringe of fame, and this week on the fringe of the world’s top 10 — he’s No. 11, the highest ranked player in the field and, after 18 holes, the highest placed player on the scoreboard.

Ten birdies and no bogies for Cantlay, which of course is 10 under par at a course that through the ages has become as famous for wind and rain — and gallows humor — as for the people who have won here.

People named Nicklaus, Palmer, Woods, Mickelson and, way back in the ‘40s and ‘50s, Hogan, Snead and Demaret. First names are not needed for those guys, although everyone knows Woods by his adopted first name, Tiger. And someday, a first name may not be required for Cantlay.

In the last two tournaments he’s entered, Cantlay has a 61, 11 under, in the American Express down in Palm Desert and then, 400 miles north and a couple of weeks apart, the 62 at Pebble.

“Yeah, especially a continuation of the desert on the weekend,” said Cantlay of his golf Thursday along Carmel Bay. “My swing feels really good right now. The ball's starting on the line that I'm seeing, and then my distance control has been really good, which is key out here.”

Cantlay was two shots ahead of Akshay Bhatia and Henrik Norlander. Another shot back at 7-under 65 were Nate Lashley, who you may not have heard of, and Jordan Spieth — who you also may not have heard of lately other than for his struggles.

Which finally may be over.

When it comes to overcoming struggles, the 28-year-old Cantlay is the unfortunate poster boy. Ten years ago, at UCLA, he was the nation’s top college player and for more than a year the No. 1 amateur in the world.

But he incurred a stress fracture in his back and couldn’t play for months.

Then, after he recovered, in February 2016, he watched from a nearby curb as his caddy and pal from high school in Anaheim, Chris Roth, was struck and killed by a hit-and-run driver in Newport Beach.

Cantlay was so shaken he couldn’t play. “For a while, I couldn’t care less about everything,” he said at the time. “Not just golf. Everything that happened in my life for a couple months didn’t feel important. Nothing felt like it mattered.”

The healing process took weeks. Cantlay returned, with a boom. He won the 2019 Memorial and then, near the end of 2020, the Zozo at Sherwood in southern California, about a hundred miles from where he grew up. Now two scintillating rounds in his home state.

“I always like being up here in Monterey,” he said. “Even though it’s cold this time of year, I like playing Pebble Beach. I like Spyglass (where he and Spieth play Friday).

“So I’m excited for this year. It looks like we’re going to get some rain, which isn’t uncommon, but I always like being here, and I like the golf courses and I like the California golf.

Because of Covid-19 restrictions, there are no amateurs this year in the AT&T. No spectators either for an event as well known for celebrities such as Bill Murray and for the fans who tend to be as excited to watch them as, say, Patrick Cantlay.

“Yeah, we did play a lot quicker, which is nice,” said Cantlay. “Anytime you play this tournament and get finished under five hours, it's a good day.”

Anytime you shoot 10-under at Pebble, believed to tie the course record for a round in the AT&T, it’s a great day.

Kamaiu Johnson at Pebble: A Hollywood story

By Art Spander

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — The shame is none of those high-powered Hollywood types who usually fill the amateur slots will be playing in the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am. They’d love the Kamaiu Johnson story.

Then again, who wouldn’t?

It seems more fiction than fact, a kid from nothing, who dropped out of school in the eighth grade, starts swinging a stick near a golf course in Tallahassee, Florida, catches the eye of the course general manager and works and putts his way to the big time.

Kamaiu is 27, an African-American who — could this be any more perfect? — in Black History Month will make his own history when he tees off Thursday in the AT&T.

All that beauty and wealth of Pebble, where it costs just to get through the gates, where the waves crash and seagulls sweep. And where Johnson will make his first start on the PGA Tour.

Is it redundant to say he came up the hard way, winning an event on the Advocates Professional Golf Association Tour, a circuit created to “bring greater diversity to the game by developing African Americans and other minorities for careers in golf”?

Sure, there’s Tiger Woods, who remains the face of the game if at age 35 he doesn’t remain atop the standings. Harold Varner III, Joseph Bramlett and Sacramento’s Cameron Champ — who won the Safeway a couple of years ago — are the other black golfers on Tour.

None came up the way Kamaiu Johnson did — or overcame the same obstacles.

“Golf saved me,” Johnson told Tod Leonard of Golf Digest.

Johnson was an athlete, a baseball player, but as one of four children in a fatherless family, he couldn’t afford to play on a club team. So there he was taking big swipes with a branch outside Halman Golf Club in Tallahassee when Jan Augur, the GM, invited him inside to hit balls on the range with a real club.

Obviously he had talent. And finally he had an opportunity. There were lessons. And there was progress. He won the Advocates, and that gained him a place in the Farmers Insurance Open at Torrey Pines at the end of January. But he was never able to enter, withdrawing due to a positive Covid-19 test.

But he had come too far to be discouraged or depressed, even with his mother in the hospital in Orlando because of breathing difficulties. Word traveled. Johnson was invited both to the AT&T and, a couple weeks from now, the Honda Classic in his home state.

“I thought I was going to get my first PGA Tour event this week,” he told USA Today’s Steve DiMeglio, before the Farmers. “But God had other plans for me.

“I’m just so thankful for the support I’ve gotten over the way I was treated. I’m thankful to the AT&T and Farmers and Honda for all they’ve been doing for me. It’s been amazing how many people reached out to me.”

Johnson had to quarantine outside San Diego. He’s now cleared, of course. His mother has improved.

“I feel absolutely back to normal. I tried to stay active.”

Staying active is not staying in the groove, however. And even when a golfer is prepared, those Monterey Peninsula courses — Pebble Beach and Spyglass Hill this year; no amateurs, no need for Monterey Peninsula — can intimidate.

Even veterans know the tales of grief, balls in the water on so many of Pebble’s holes, balls in the bunkers at Spyglass — so a first-timer will have to be particularly defensive.

Then again, after what he’s gone through to get here, no golf course, no matter its reputation, should worry Kamaiu Johnson. When you begin by swinging a stick, the rest is a joy.

At Pebble, a Pro-Am without any “ams,” including Bill Murray

By Art Spander

It was created by a man who could swing a 5-iron as impressively as he could hold a musical note. In time, his tournament, the Bing Crosby Pro-Am, became the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am. What didn’t change was the last part of the label, “Am.”

The pros, from Snead and Hogan to Palmer, Nicklaus and Woods, had their place and their victories, but what made the Pro-Am special were the amateurs: entertainers, athletes and politicians as eager to compete and as we were to watch them. 

Now the event, a mid-winter festival on the Monterey Peninsula, has fallen victim to Covid-19, as have so many other attractions. They’ll hold the AT&T in February, as always, but not like before.

According to a release from the PGA Tour, the AT&T will be played “without the traditional multi-day format,” which means it won’t be the traditional Crosby/AT&T.

Inevitable, perhaps, the way the virus has surged, chasing the 49ers and the Sharks to Arizona and forcing the suspension of so many NBA and college basketball games, but still disappointing.

The courses are the same, although only Pebble Beach and Spyglass Hill will be used, Monterey Peninsula Country Club unneeded for a greatly reduced field.

The charity beneficiary is the same, the Monterey Peninsula Foundation, which Crosby told me in the early 1970s, when some of the pros didn’t like the format, was the only reason he didn’t withdraw his support.

The threat of inclement weather will be the same, although the Pacific storms are as unreliable as were Jack Lemmon’s tee shots.

Lemmon, of course, was a regular, a good guy if not a good golfer, who tried for years without success to make the cut but even in his unfulfilled attempts made us appreciate his persistence and sense of humor.

Sure, we were thrilled by Greg Norman and Phil Mickelson, but we were no less enthralled by Huey Lewis — who might break out in song at every tee box — or Tom Brady.

Back in the ’50s, when the world was naïve, the guy who kept us attuned and laughing was Phil Harris, who had a ton of one-liners and also more than a minimum of one-putts.

In one rainy Crosby, he slopped off the inundated 17th green at Pebble and told the press, “I can’t wait to get out of these wet clothes and into a dry martini.” If you’ve heard that before, well, jokes survive.

The routines by Harris, Dean Martin and even Crosby himself have been taken over by Bill Murray, who has done everything from pull a female spectator into a bunker to hurl a frozen fish at spectators.

If the tournament occasionally resembled a variety show, well, how many times could you remind the audience that every putt breaks toward Carmel Bay?

Murray was a player as well as a comedian. He grew up near Chicago, caddying with his brothers, and in the 2011 AT&T he teamed with D.A. Points, who won the pro section. Murray won the pro-am.

On the 16th in the final round at Pebble, Points, getting into the spirit of things, yelled at Murray loud enough to he heard, “It would help if you made a putt.” Which Murray then did. “His being funny helped relax me,” said Murray, who hardly needs help at relaxing.

No Murray this winter. No quarterbacks — Tony Romo has been a consistent entrant, and Peyton Manning an occasional one — no wisecracks, no entrants sitting near the 17th tee being interviewed by Jim Nantz.

No crowd at the 15th tee, “Club 15” the description, chanting before the golfers hit their tee balls.

There will be golf played at Pebble next month, but not the golf we’ve come to expect. How can it be a pro-am without the “ams”?

Phil implied there would be trouble — and there was

By Art Spander
For Maven Sports

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

Read the full story here.

Copyright 2020, The Maven