Phil wants to take over the Tour — but he’s not at Riviera

PACIFIC PALISADES, Calif. — So Phil Mickelson, who’s not even here, wants to remake the PGA Tour and blocked his Twitter account.

Somebody from Golf Digest hopes the Waste Management Phoenix Open will not continue to play the last round during the Super bowl.

And there’s a story the Saudis are going to destroy pro golf as we know it with their millions.

But looking down the fairway from the elevated first tee at Riviera Country Club, there’s a better view of golf, one of old eucalyptus trees, kikuyu fairways and a tournament as competitive as it is historic.

Round one of the Genesis Invitational on Thursday offered a leaderboard that included the guy who won in Arizona on Sunday, Scottie Scheffler — yes, when you’re hot, you’re hot — Jordan Spieth and, on top, Joaquin Niemann. 

Obviously it did not include Phil, a.k.a. Lefty, who although residing maybe 80 miles south and having won here — remember the time he flew up daily in his jet? — chose not to enter.

But apparently he has chosen to push the limits of how pro golf is controlled. And also chosen not to allow critics to enter his social media platform.

Phil is always one of the friendlier, more cooperative guys in golf, full of opinions, willing to take a stand or a chance on making a tough shot.

Virtually everyone was thrilled when last summer, at almost age 51, he took the PGA Championship and became the oldest man ever to win a major.

Then a couple weeks ago, Mickelson skipped the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, which he had won five times, to play in the filthy rich Saudi event — and while there lambasted the PGA Tour for “obnoxious greed.”

While explaining why he would be open to playing in the filthy rich Saudi Golf League.

That didn’t make him overly popular with those who run the Tour or play the Tour, or with Brandel Chamblee, the astute Golf Channel commentator who briefly played on the Tour. Chamblee referred to Mickelson as a highly paid ventriloquist puppet.

Phil recently claimed that Augusta National, the club where he won the Masters three times, made $3.5 million from licensing his 2010 shot off the pine needles to the 13th green.

It’s amazing how a game supposedly built on sportsmanship and fair play can make so many people so angry, including fans and media. Of course, it’s also built on money.

According to Doug Ferguson of the Associated Press, Mickelson told a journalist writing a biography on him that he recruited three other “top players” to the Saudi-supported golf league. And his intent is to remake the Tour more than to help Saudi golf.    

The comments are from an interview with former Sports Illustrated golf writer Alan Shipnuck, who has a book on Mickelson coming in May.

“They’re scary mother-bleepers to get associated with,” Mickelson said of the Saudis. “We know they killed (Washington Post reporter Jamal) Khashoggi and have a horrible record on human rights.

“Why should I get involved? Because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to reshape how the PGA Tour operates.”    

The worry may be how Phil operates. Anger is being expressed against Mickelson in messages on the internet. He responded in kind. Off went Phil’s site.  

That’s the side of golf some prefer to ignore. Controversy sells, but so do birdie putts and success stories. They prefer beautiful locations such as Riviera, which along with Pebble is one of California’s most famous, as well as one of its best.

The pros hesitate to put too much into the opening round of any event — they tell us you can’t win a tournament on the first day, but you can lose it — but those were impressive starts on Thursday.

Niemann had an 8-under 63, while Scheffler, Spieth, Cameron Young and Max Homa shot 66.

But the question remains: With this Mickelson news, will anyone notice?

Tiger talks of a great past and doubtful future

PACIFIC PALISADES, Calif. — He was sitting behind a table instead of standing on a tee, but wherever Tiger Woods finds a place any tournament belongs to him, especially the one where he first had the chance to play against the game’s top players — before he would become the game’s best.

It’s called the Genesis Invitational now. Before, it was the Nissan Open. But we know it as the Los Angeles Open, at historic Riviera Country Club, where the stars hung out, Ben Hogan dominated and in 1992 a teenage Tiger made his pro debut.

Woods now is the host, ironically for an event on a course where he never won but where his presence as both spokesman and hero perhaps carries as much significance as any of his 82 Tour victories.

A year ago, Woods drove off a curving road maybe 20 miles from Riviera. As he reminded Tuesday, “I’m lucky I’m alive.” He had his right foot reattached, underwent months of rehabilitation, eventually was able to play with son Charlie in the PNC Father-Son tournament and at age 46 remains uncertain about his future.

Among his tasks here were to create the attention impossible for anyone else in golf. The room in the old Spanish clubhouse used as the media headquarters suddenly filled to overflowing when Woods walked in on Wednesday, first to introduce pro Adam Beverly — a college star at Sacramento State — as recipient of the Charlie Sifford Memorial exemption.

Woods recalled the difficulty he faced when at age 16 he was in the big time, and no less pertinently mused about his chances in April of playing the Masters Par-3 tournament (possible) and the Masters itself (doubtful).

“I wish I could tell you when I'm playing again,” said Woods. “I want to know, but I don't. My golf activity has been very limited. I can chip and putt really well and hit short irons very well, but I haven't done any long stuff seriously.

“I'm still working. Like at the PNC, I'm still working on the walking part. My foot was a little messed up there about a year ago, so the walking part is something that I'm still working on, working on strength and development in that. It takes time. What's frustrating is it's not at my timetable.”

There has been progress since the father-son. He is stronger, able to hit more balls.

“But as I was alluding to at the PNC, I was in a cart,” he said. “I can play weekend warrior golf, that's easy. But to be able to be out here and play, call it six rounds of golf, a practice round, pro-am, four competitive days, it's the cumulative effect of all that.

“I'm not able to do that yet. I'm still working on getting to that point.”

He is more realistic than pessimistic. He came to grips with the situation lying in a hospital bed. There is just possibility or impossibility.

The opportunity to discuss the Sifford award, presented annually to one of the country’s top minority golfers, brings Tiger back to an earlier time.

The PGA of America (which controlled tournament golf before the PGA Tour was formed in 1968) had a Caucasian-only clause in its by-laws. Charlie Sifford and other African Americans were not allowed to play. A threat by California attorney general Stanley Mosk to ban any tournament from the state forced the PGA to eliminate the clause.

When Sifford won the L.A. Open in 1961, at Rancho Park, he sent Mosk a telegram of appreciation. Tiger Woods, with a Black father and Asian mother, was well-schooled in ethnic discrimination.

“Charlie was the grandfather I never had,” said Tiger. “To me, he was Grandpa Charlie. I would see him at Firestone every year. I was telling Aaron over here that I would get these yellow texts in my locker every time I had a chance to win a tournament and I'll summarize it by saying ‘go out and win.’”

What Tiger told Adam Beverly was that playing in a Tour event for the first time would be both intimidating and thrilling.

“It was like going from playing JV baseball to all of a sudden facing — you're going to be on the bump against Nolan Ryan. That's how big a jump that felt like.”

Big or small, the jump ended beautifully.

Spieth’s 63 shows there’s nothing wrong

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — A year ago, a lot of people in golf were asking what was wrong with Jordan Spieth. The answer, in the briefest of explanations: Nothing.

Spieth shot a 9-under 63 on Saturday, his lowest ever at Pebble Beach, and bounded into contention after three rounds of the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am.

With one round to go and most of the celebrity amateurs, including the irrepressible Bill Murray, having taken their hopes and their double-bogies to other locales, the AT&T has become what many wanted: A battle among some of golf’s more recognizable players.

Maybe Beau Hossler, Andrew Putnam and Tom Hoge, the three guys sharing first with 54-hole totals of 15-under-par 200, don’t have their own line of clubs or clothing, but they’re hardly in that grouping of unheralded.

Hossler held a brief lead in the 2012 U.S. Open at San Francisco’s Olympic Club when he was a 17-year-old amateur. Hoge is the pro from Fargo, the city in North Dakota, not the dark-humor movie. Putnam has been on Tour and off.

But a stroke behind at 201 are Spieth, FedEx Cup champion Patrick Cantlay and Joel Dahmen. Another shot behind at 202 is the chap from Ireland, Seamus Power, who sadly verified what we all know: Golf can be cruel.

After 64s at two of the more difficult courses, Pebble and Spyglass Hill, Power shot 74 Saturday at Monterey Peninsula’s Shore Course.

You might think the tournament would come down to Spieth, a three-time major champion, and Cantlay, the one known as “Patty Ice.” But there’s no defense. You can’t stop the other guy, you just have to outscore him.

Not easy when Spieth has an eagle, eight birdies and only a lone bogey.

“I guess I'm one back,” said Spieth. “I think the leaderboard's pretty bunched. Pebble can yield low scores.“

A 63 would indicate as much.

“So I think I just kind of learned a little from last year,” Spieth said. “Last year I went in with the lead and I was a little tentative early and (Daniel) Berger came out firing, I think, went like birdie, eagle to start. 

“I think not being in the final group (Sunday) I just kind of approach it like (Saturday) where I feel like, you know, sometimes it can be a little easier not in the final group to go ahead and fire away. You almost just set a goal for a number for the day and pretend you’ve got to get there in order to win.”

In the pre-tournament interviews, Cantlay, born in Long Beach, was asked why he didn’t go this week to the tourney in Saudi Arabia, where entrants are being awarded seven-figure bonuses.

He said he wasn’t asked, and besides, he prefers what he called “California golf.” You can see why.

“If the lead stays at 15-under, I'm obviously right there,” he said before the last player came in. “I think I came back from more strokes behind than that. So I'm in great position and I love this golf course, and everyone will be playing on the same golf course (Sunday), so it should be fun.” 

Asked if he and Spieth would have an advantage playing Pebble in consecutive rounds, Cantlay said, “A little bit. The greens definitely were the firmest of the three places here at Pebble. With the wind up a little bit, I think it may dry out a little more.”

After all the times it’s rained during the AT&T and its predecessor, the Crosby, nobody will complain about anything being too dry.

Ireland to Pebble, by way of East Tennessee State

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — Rory McIlroy deserves some credit, in a rather convoluted way.

Rory signed a letter of intent to play golf at East Tennessee State but turned pro instead. So the State coach, Fred Warren, went about recruiting other Irish players.

Which is how Seamus Power ended up at East Tennessee, and in a way how Power on Friday ended up with the second-round lead of the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am.

An enormous lead, in relation to par if not the actual scoring totals, because two of the courses, Pebble Beach and Spyglass Hill are 72, Monterey Peninsula 71.

A lead of five, equaling the biggest for 36 holes, in the history of this tournament, now in its 76th year. Bob Rosburg was five ahead at the 36-hole mark in 1958 and Charlie Wi in 2012. Neither won.

Power had an 8-under 64 Friday at Pebble, the same as Thursday at Spyglass Hill, a 128 total and 16 under.

First-round leader Tom Hoge, Andrew Putnam and Adam Svenson are 11 under. After his 63 Thursday at Pebble, Hoge shot 69 Friday at Monterey Peninsula.

“I was a little shaky at the start,” said Hoge, the man from Fargo, N.D.

Power is the man from Waterford, the community famous for its crystal. But the only kind of glass he cares about is the type cut into golf trophies.

Hoping to get to a school in the U.S., Power was at a European junior event in Italy. So was Warren, the East Tennessee coach, still seeking someone who might be as talented as McIlroy. OK, there wasn’t anyone, but a coach needs to keep looking.

Along came Power.

“He had an American-style game,” Warren told Michael Arkush of the New York Times. “A long hitter, aggressive, trying to make birdies. I was real impressed with him.”

Warren would offer Power a partial scholarship if Power were willing to wait a year. Power agreed.

“No problem,“ wrote Arkush. “Power had written letters to other colleges in the United States but did not receive encouraging responses. In fact, if it had not been for the interest from East Tennessee State, he would have followed through on another plan: Take an accounting course at a university in Ireland.”

Counting numbers is familiar to a golfer. In fact, another Irishman of some fame, PGA championship and Open Championship winner (and Euro Ryder Cup captain) Padraig Harrington has an accounting degree.

After leaving East Tennessee, Power struggled, not unusual for almost all young golfers, playing the Buy.com Tour and something called the eTour, going from tournament to tournament in an old Toyota.

Finally, in 2019 he qualified for the PGA Tour, and in 2021 he won the Barbasol Open. That would have been fantastic except because it was the same week as the Open Championship, the British Open, it didn’t get him in a first Masters. 

It could be corrected with a victory here, of course. Power, who will be 35 in March, has paid his dues.

“That's certainly part of it,” said Power. “I've always loved playing golf. I have fond memories of playing those tours. Obviously, it's not where you want to be, but I mean any time you get to play golf for a living, like you're in a pretty good spot.

“So it's obviously satisfying, but, I mean, guys have gotten here a lot of different ways and it doesn't matter once you're here, it's how is your game going to hold up. That's kind of the fun part, trying to improve and just see where you can kind of put yourself.”

At Pebble this week, with great weather, where he puts himself could be in a special place.

The man from Fargo warms up at Pebble

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — Just for the record, it was -5 degrees on Thursday in Fargo, N.D. Also on Thursday, Tom Hoge, the best pro golfer ever to come from Fargo — at least in recent memory — was -9.

That’s because he was playing Pebble Beach, where sometimes conditions during the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am might make people think they’re in North Dakota rather than Northern California.

But not this year. If it wasn’t Maui, the temperature on the Monterey Peninsula leveling at 57 degrees, there were no clouds, no rain and for Hoge no bogies.

OK, so he isn’t as well known as guys like Tiger Woods or Phil Mickelson, and coming into this tournament he had missed 89 cuts of the previous 202 tournaments he played, but Hoge (pronounced HOAG-ey, like the sandwich) finished second in the American Express a couple weeks back.

And on Thursday he shot a 63 on one of the world’s most famous courses in some of the winter’s best conditions. Sell the umbrellas. Ditch the apres-ski boots. Bring your admiration.

This is hardly a lock for Hoge. He’s only a shot ahead of the Irishman Seamus Power, who recorded his 64 at Spyglass Hill, another of the three courses used in the first three rounds. PGA Tour champ Patrick Cantlay had a 65 and former AT&T winner Jordan Spieth a 68, both at Monterey Peninsula Country Club.

Still, for a man from a city made infamous in the black-humor flick “Fargo” a few years back, being in the sunshine and being in the lead is, well, special.

He played here in the years of chilblains and heavy rains, so-called Crosby weather (remember, the tournament was created by Bing Crosby).

“Yeah, I enjoy it,” he said. “You know, when the years have bad weather it's still fun to be out here. And then you get weather like (Thursday) and this week, and it's fantastic.”

Hoge, 32, was born in North Carolina, but his family moved to North Dakota, when he played between blizzards, and he later went to school at Texas Christian.

He started his round at 10, the hole before the course turns away from the water, with a birdie. Then he birdied 11. And 18. But it was on the front where he made the run, six birdies in a row, on holes three through eight.

“It's hard to be in a bad mood out here,” said Hoge. “I mean, Pebble Beach and perfect weather is about as good as it gets. So it was a lot of fun.

“I feel like I've been playing well. I've been excited to get out here on the golf course and feel like Pebble Beach is a golf course that suits me well, so I was excited to get out here this week.”

And get as far away Fargo as possible?

“The first reaction is usually the movie, yes,” Hoge told Helen Ross of PGATour.com, discussing the reaction to his background. “And then the second statement is that I’m the first person they’ve ever met from North Dakota.

“So I’m kind of ready for those two all the time.”

On this fine day, he was just as ready for Pebble Beach.

Cantlay chooses Pebble beauty over Saudi payoff

PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. — So Pebble Beach, despite a misquoted observation, isn’t the greatest meeting of land and water in the world, but the view on Wednesday — sun glistening on Carmel Bay — was overwhelming,

A highlight of practice rounds for the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, a sparkling, enticing invitation to a place Patrick Cantlay calls “the epitome of California golf.”

Cantlay, currently No. 4 in the world ranking, is a home state guy all the way. He was born in Long Beach, went to UCLA and chose familiarity and natural beauty over the lure of a huge payoff.

Not that he wouldn’t someday change his mind.

There’s another tournament about to start on Thursday, head to head against the AT&T some 5,000 miles away, where the setting may be less inviting unless you’re big on sand dunes, but the money is enormous — the Saudi Arabia Invitational.

The PGA Tour gave exemptions to those who chose the Saudi event — and please don’t ask about politics; “we’re only going there to play golf” — but below the surface is a bigger issue, the future of the pro game..

The Saudi tournament is part of the DP Tour, which used to be the European Tour, and because Greg Norman is maneuvering behind the scenes, the probability is there’s only going to be one tour, with the biggest names.

This time a former AT&T winner, Dustin Johnson; a former Masters champion, Patrick Reed (as Johnson is also); Tony Fine; and (gadzooks) even five-time AT&T champ Phil Mickelson are there.

But former U.S. Open, British Open and Masters champ Jordan Spieth (who endorses AT&T products) and Cantlay are here. So was defending AT&T winner Daniel Berger, until he was forced to withdraw because of a back injury.

Cantlay perhaps is the least famous of the most famous golfers on the globe. As an amateur, he was No. 1 in the world. Then last summer, he not only won the FedEx Cup but did it in a fashion, making putt after putt under pressure, which gained him the nickname, “Patty Ice” — he was that cool.

He may not yet register on a scale with Tiger Woods or Mickelson, but his colleagues know how good he is, especially around the greens, where golf is decided.

What Cantlay (who turns 30 next month, on St. Patrick’s Day), decided was to stay loyal and stay close by. Not that he didn’t pay attention to Saudi Arabia.

“I think with the amount of money they're talking about,” he said, “it's always very tempting. I think it's tempting for everybody. And to deny that would be, you know, maybe not true.”

The actual Saudi purse is smaller than the $8.7 million AT&T purse, but there are reports that golfers will be paid tens of millions in fees, illegal on the PGA Tour.

“But I'm really glad that I'm here this week,” said Cantlay, “and I love Pebble Beach and so that definitely factored into my decision.”

Golf and tennis are dependent on the recognition factor, on fame, personality — as Tiger’s presence verified. People would flock to see him, even if they didn’t know a thing about the sport.

If golf does shift toward a super tour, grabbing away the crème de la crème, where does it leave those left outside? Will anyone care about the minor leaguers, as it were?

“I think it's a complicated thing, and I don't think there's an easy answer,” Cantlay said. “If people want to be more interested in golf and want to put more money into golf, I think that's a good thing. I think definitely there's a want of the best players in the world to play against the other best players in the world, and so it's hard to quantify exactly.  

“Some move the needle more than others, and some are at the top of the game more than others.“

Right now, with the beauty of Pebble Beach as a backdrop, Cantlay can concentrate on a more specific issue, playing well.

Tour surrenders AT&T golf to Saudi event

So the PGA Tour surrendered, although no one involved would use that term. Maybe “gave in to reality” is more accurate.

Realized the big names always get their way, so why not give them what they want and avoid a conflict in what was once called the gentleman’s game.

The winners, among others, are Phil Mickelson, Bryson DeChambeau, Dustin Johnson and the Saudi International tournament.

The losers are the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, CBS television and the restaurants and shops on the Monterey Peninsula.

The AT&T, which started as the Bing Crosby Pro-Am, has been around for more than 80 years. It’s a traditional stop on Tour. But tradition has no chance when matched against oil sheiks.

They created a tournament that the Asian Tour chose to endorse after the former European Tour (it’s been re-named the DP World Tour) stepped away. It is held at Royal Greens Golf Club near Jeddah and offers a huge purse and appearance fees.

That both events are to be staged in the first week in February makes for a difficult situation. Let’s go to the past tense — made for a difficult situation.

When a Tour player wants to enter an event opposite one on the Tour schedule, he must receive approval — and agree to stipulations for the future.  

On Monday, Saudi officials sent a media release mentioning they had commitments from 11 major champions. Golf Digest asked who would blink first. We found out quickly enough.

It was the Tour. When the AT&T does get underway, they should put white flags in the cups.

Yes, I know the players are “independent contractors” and go where the money is, and I also know that in personality-driven sports such as golf (Tiger Woods, Mickelson) and tennis (Rafael Nadal, Serena Williams) the stars have leverage.

But they built their reputations and bank accounts in tournaments that enabled them to learn and improve. And earn.

The AT&T may offer celebrities and wonderful courses deep in the forest or along the bay, but it’s golf competition, and you want the top players, the ones who drive up attendance and TV ratings as well as drive a ball 330 yards down a fairway.

Long ago, when I tended to write about Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus, even if they weren’t on the leader board or in the field, a golf official suggested I focus on the little-known players, to let people know who they were.

But that infamous headline, “Unknown wins Crosby,” will get only shrugs. ESPN, for better or worse, figured it out: Names are more important than games.

It didn’t matter that Tiger before the accident was 10 shots behind. To ESPN he was the story, often the only story.

You know that over the weekend Woods and his 12-year-old son, Charlie, played in the PNC father-son tournament. There were stories and videos from here to St. Andrews. Wow!

Tiger hasn’t been in the ATT for a while, but Mickelson and Dustin Johnson not only were there but more than once finished first. This coming February, however, they’ll be in Saudi Arabia.

The longtime tournament director of the AT&T, Steve John, has to be diplomatic and measured in any criticism. He’s not going to whine about players he hopes will be back in coming years.

"We are still focused on the many highlights of our tournament week," John told James Raia in the Monterey Herald. "We will be messaging that we will eclipse the $200 million milestone in supporting deserving non-profits in and around our community."

“We have received overwhelming community support from fans showing how eager they are to see their favorite celebrities.”

Good, but Phil Mickelson or Dustin Johnson wouldn’t hurt. In fact, they would help.

Death of a Masters legend

Did Cliff Roberts literally say that no black man would play in the Masters golf tournament as long as he were chairman of Augusta National Golf Club?

That was the rumor in the press room in the late 1960s and early 70s. After all, hadn’t the qualifying standards been adjusted again and again, seemingly to exclude Charlie Sifford or Pete Brown?

But Lee Elder qualified just after the ’74 Masters ended, and at a function weeks later in New York, where the ’74 U.S. Open was scheduled, Roberts and Elder embraced while others stood and cheered.

It was as if a burden had been lifted. For Roberts. For Elder. For golf. For the Masters.

Elder, who died Monday at 87, would make history when he teed off in the ’75 Masters, even though he would not make the cut — something he accomplished three times — of the six he played.

A quiet, persistent individual, basically a self-taught golfer, Elder won several times on Tour and the Champions Tour. 

He was the legacy of men like Ted Rhodes, who in the 1940s and 50s overcame restrictions that now would be illegal as well as immoral.

Until 1959, the PGA of America, which ran the weekly tournaments, had a Caucasians-only clause in its charter. When two black pros were allowed to enter the Richmond Open — Richmond, Calif., near Oakland, not Richmond, Va. — an official came on the course and forced them to leave.

Elder knew. He also knew he had to play on the United Golf Tour, where in effect black golfers had their own league until they qualified for the PGA.

And he knew as he traveled from event to event there were places he couldn’t stay or couldn’t eat. It was the Jackie Robinson story a decade later.

It worked out well. Elder and his first wife, Rose, settled in the suburbs of Washington D.C., where a local Oldsmobile dealer became a sponsor and friend, and where some of the nation’s political leaders joined him for a round or two.

The 1976 PGA Championship was held at Congressional Country Club, and Rose and Lee Elder threw a party for contestants, a few media and at least one person who played an occasional round with Lee, President Gerald Ford.

Dave Stockton finished first, the second of his two PGA Championship victories. Elder obviously was also very much a winner.

You could say that by the time Lee played that first Masters, at age 45, time had passed him by, that he was cheated out of his best chance to win, but there was no whining.

There was just appreciation.

The days of struggling and threats from fans who sought to keep the status quo were in the past. There were black fans. The Masters would have an African-American champion, maybe the greatest golfer ever, Tiger Woods. Elder was in attendance when Woods stunned the world with his record-breaking first win in 1997.

How fortunate for the Masters and the game that the current Augusta chairman, Fred Ridley, a former U,S. amateur champ, chose this year’s Masters for Lee to be an honorary starter.

Lee joined Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player to hit the traditional early-morning tee shots that begin the round. He already was a hero to the Augusta employees, many of whom are black. Now he was a legend.

The only shame was that Clifford Roberts, who died years earlier, wasn’t there to see it.

Behind U.S. Ryder Cup win: Youth and talent

KOHLER, Wis. — This time, this renaissance Ryder Cup, Americans were left shaking hands instead of shaking their heads.

This time golfers in their 20s, and yet in their prime, overcame the nonsensical idea there’s something lacking in the character of those who play for the United States.

This time the U.S., led by Collin Morikawa and Patrick Cantlay — in truth, by all those kids under the leadership of captain Steve Stricker — snatched back the Cup in America’s Dairyland, Wisconsin, also Stricker’s home state.

It was inevitable after two days of this three-day event, when the U.S. stormed to a 11-5 lead before Sunday’s singles, that America would win. Which it did by a final score of 18-9 — the most lopsided American triumph in the last 15 matches.

Europe had been dominant in recent years, however, taking seven of the previous nine tournaments and lording it over the U.S.

When Europe won, in a rout, at Detroit’s Oakland Hills in 2006, a 24-year-old Euro team member from Spain, Sergio Garcia, gloated, “I think that this whole team and also myself, we just live for this.”

Did the Cup mean more to Europe than the U.S.? Until the pandemic, Euro fans came to America to sing and cheer. U.S. players were stung by stories saying the Euros won because they got along with each other, because they were more emotional than Americans.

It grated on the U.S. players. So did losing.

“They have run the score up on us before,” said Tony Finau on Saturday night, although as one of the rookies he had not been involved in those Cup matches. “And if we have the opportunity, we are going to run it up on them (Sunday).”

In effect they did, but golf is not like football. You just play as well as you can, hitting balls down fairways and into the cup. You only run up the score if the other side doesn’t play well.

Which was the problem for Europe. Garcia now is 41, even though he and countryman Jon Rahm teamed successfully — the Spanish Armada — and Rahm was routed in singles by Scottie Scheffler.

Paul Casey, a longtime Euro Ryder Cupper, is 44. Ian Poulter, the emotional leader, is 45.

Morikawa, the Cal grad (and British Open and PGA champ) is 24. Bryson DeChambeau is 28. And Brooks Koepka, while a veteran and winner of two U.S. Opens and two PGA Championships, is only 31. Dustin Johnson, who won all five of his Ryder Cup matches, is a bit older at 37.

And then there’s Jordan Spieth, 29, winner of three majors. He’d been on losing Ryder Cup teams overseas, heard the fans taunt and chant. On Sunday, he heard Americans, jammed on the Whistling Straits course along Lake Michigan, shout again and again, ”U.S.A., U.S.A.”

“I've only lost one other one, and it's dismal,” said Poulter. “You know, watching the guys out on 18 enjoying themselves is something that you come into this week with visions of that happening for you as a team.

“We've got a great team this week, and we were outplayed. Every session was difficult. They did their job, and they made it painful for us today, and this one's going to hurt for a bit.”

What’s going to hurt even more is the realization that a change has occurred. The old guard — yes, that includes Lee Westwood, a 1-up winner Sunday over Harris English — is finished.

The next Ryder Cup, in Italy, isn’t until 2023. Europe will need new talent. The U.S. already has that new talent.

It was a full team effort, and everyone contributed and everyone put in their full efforts to make sure this week was going to play well,” said Morikawa, part of that new American talent.

“And obviously, coming out on top feels really, really good.”

Obviously. Finally.

Stricker’s deep team closing in on Ryder Cup

KOHLER, Wis. — Even Steve Stricker, a man of measured words who offers a classic Midwestern approach, felt obliged to boast about the U.S. Ryder Cup squad he is privileged to captain.

“Yeah, this team is deep,” Stricker said Saturday. “They are so good, and they have had a great couple of years to make this team.

“Everybody came in ready and prepared. They are hitting it well. They came all on board.”

They came eager to regain the Cup, to regain the prestige that in the days of Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer was American golf. And with only one round remaining, the 12 singles matches Sunday, it seems they’ve done exactly that.

Yes, it’s not over until the fat lady sings or the slender golf pro swings, and yes, there was the Miracle at Medinah in 2012, when the Euros rallied impossibly. But this time, after two days of team play, two foursome matches and two four-ball matches, America is ahead, 11-6, although on Saturday Europe got more involved with victories.

The U.S. needs three and a half points to get the trophy for only the second time in the last six Ryder Cups.

With that deep team, loaded with major champions, Collin Morikawa, Dustin Johnson, Jordan Spieth, Justin Thomas, Brooks Koepka, and Bryson DeChambeau — and Olympic champion Xander Schauffele — it will get those points.

No more to hear the Euro fans, who take these matches seriously — and gloriously — with that irritating chant, “Ole, ole, ole.”

It’s an issue of manpower. You go down the line and eventually someone produces, that is if everyone doesn’t produce.

Jon Rahm and Sergio Garcia, the Spaniards, were undefeated on the Whistling Straits course the first two days, Garcia earning a Ryder Cup record 24th victory.

But it’s been two against too many.

In foursomes, how about a U.S. grouping of Morikawa, a British Open and PGA Championship winner, and Johnson, who has a U.S. Open?

Or a team of longtime pals Jordan Spieth, who’s won the Masters, British and U.S. Opens, and Thomas, who has a PGA Championship?

Dustin smashes the tee shots. Collin follows with balls on the green. Team play to the utmost.

No bickering, no sniggering, just golfing — and good times.

”We are playing really good golf as a team,” said Spieth, although he and Koepka lost Saturday afternoon to the guys nicknamed the Spanish Armada.

“Everybody is pretty confident in each other,” said Spieth. “And we said it from the get-go. We have all known each other for a long time. Other than a couple of us, we have known each other since high school or even grade school. We are having a blast off the course, and that's feeding into the lightness in our rounds as well.”

All 12 of the American team members earned at least a half point the first two days, a fitting example of balance.

“Obviously, the conditions have been pretty difficult,”  said Johnson about morning chill and constant wind off adjacent Lake Michigan. “But I feel like I've just played solid. Not trying to do anything too crazy.

“Just keep the ball in play, especially in foursomes where we're out there and pars are good scores, especially on a lot of these holes.”

Stricker was not displeased splitting the Saturday four-ball matches.

“This afternoon session was an important one,” he pointed out. “If they blank us, they get right back in the game. Splitting the session was a good outcome for us.”

The best outcome is yet to come.

“You know, we'll have an hour once we get in to kind of put our lineup out and get ready for (Sunday),” he said.

“But you know, it's about getting these guys some rest. It's a long two days when they are out here all day playing 36, some of these guys, and yeah, so get back to the hotel, eat and rest.”

Then go out for a very big day in American golf.

U.S. Ryder Cuppers get along — and get ball into cup

KOHLER, Wis.— So the first day of the Ryder Cup, American golfers disproved the idea they can’t get along, or more importantly can’t get the ball into the cup.

Maybe our culture isn’t all that bad at that. It’s obvious our golfers are quite good.

Not only did the U.S. build up a 6-2 lead — you need 14½ points to claim the Cup when play finishes
Sunday — but in the process, American players scored wins over a couple of nemeses from the European team who once were unbeatable, Rory McIlroy and Ian Poulter.

In the foursomes matches on Friday morning, team rookies Patrick Cantlay and Xander Schauffele combined to win each of the first five holes and overwhelmed McIlroy and Poulter, 5 and 3.

“I don't know if anyone could have beat Xander and Patrick today,” said Poulter. ”They played really good, four birdies in a row. Geeze, yeah, they played great.”

Geeze, yeah, so did every American playing in what could be described as a home game, on the Whistling Straits course along Lake Michigan, north of Milwaukee and south of Green Bay.

U.S. golfers — meaning golfers who have U.S. passports and not those who just live and play in the U.S. — have been spoiling for a day like this.

Team Europe had won the Cup four of the last five times, the American failures blamed on everything from a lack of team chemistry to a reliance on power over finesse.

Euros, we’re told, are better at communication, although how this helps when you’re alone on the tee is a mystery.

The way Bryson DeChambeau hits a ball is no mystery, however. On the 581-yard, par-5 fifth hole, teamed with Scottie Scheffler in the afternoon better ball, DeChambeau smashed a 417-yard drive. Seventy-two yards from the pin, he wedged close enough for an eagle 3.

DeChambeau and Scheffler halved that match with Jon Rahm and Tyrell Hatton. Rahm, the Spaniard who won the U.S. Open — and went to Arizona State — was responsible for half of the Euros’ two total points.

The American players were, well, pleased and wary. Things can turn quickly, although it’s doubtful they will. This U.S. team is young but experienced.

Asked about the inability of he and DeChambeau to close out a match in which they were 1-up with a hole to play, Scheffler said, “Yeah, especially in best-ball you have to hit good shots and make birdies down the stretch.

“Bryson made a good par on 15, which was more like a birdie. Made a nice birdie on 16. Got out of position on 18. Overall I’m pleased with how we played. I think we played really solid. A few mistakes here and there, but other than that, a really solid day.”

Emotions were pouring out as the pro-American crowd chanted. DeChambeau was asked how he could keep calm.

“It's going back to your bubble when you're about to hit a shot,” DeChambeau said, “doing your best to control your emotions in that way. I learned from Phil (Mickelson) in that, and I have a great partner and loved every minute of it and hope we can do it again soon. We are a good team, and we're going to dominate.”

Which for a day the U.S. squad also did. Criticism be damned.

No hate for Paul Casey in this Ryder Cup

KOHLER, Wis. — Paul Casey never said, “Stupid Americans, I hate them.” That was a headline in The Mirror, a London tabloid.

But Casey did say during the 2004 Ryder Cup matches that he learned to “properly hate Americans and U.S. fans can be bloody annoying.”

Which was an interesting observation because Casey, while English, played at Arizona State (winning three consecutive Pac-12 championships, breaking Tiger Woods’ scoring record); previously was married to an American woman; lives most of the time in the United States (Scottsdale); and after competing on both sides of the Atlantic now limits himself to the PGA Tour.

He’s also playing the Ryder Cup for a fifth time, still for Europe, and at age 44 is wise enough not to make statements that can be considered as controversial as that historic remark.

Casey insisted he was not so much misquoted as misinterpreted — or was it an intentional mis-read by journalists seeking something not there?

A few months after the quote or misquote appeared, Casey was sitting in front of a couple of California sportswriters at Riviera Country Club in L.A. (Tommy Bonk and yours truly), contritely explaining his innocence.

He got carried away when discussing how important the Ryder Cup was to the Euros. And certainly the 43rd edition of the matches, Friday through Sunday at Whistling Straits along the shore of Lake Michigan, will keep him involved as much emotionally as physically.

The interesting part is so many members of the European squad, Jon Rahm, Sergio Garcia, Ian Poulter and Casey, play most of their golf in America. So, despite all the nationalism, the Ryder Cup is not much different than another week on Tour.

You have the weird stuff, the Euros acting like Packers fans — Green Bay is about 65 miles north — posing in cheeseheads and a group of Americans tromping along wearing Viking outfits. Not the Minnesota NFL team, but Leif Erikson-type attire. You also have cheering for missed putts, which is opposed to all the stuff we’re taught about sportsmanship in golf

At times, the event seems like a midnight party in New Orleans. But for the most part, it’s the same game that millions play, hitting a ball with a club, and not a club like that wielded by Erik the Red.

“It’s a lot of fun,” said U.S. team member Bryson DeChambeau of the Cup.

No question, it’s different with two days of team play, at both four balls and foursomes, the latter a style rarely seen in the U.S.

”I think the British always spent lots of time playing foursomes as kids,” said Casey. “It's just something we did in matches. It was always foursomes in the morning and singles in the afternoon. It's just something you do in club matches, county matches, even up to the international level.

“I don't believe there's any sort of tricks and tips or anything. It's just something I think we are a bit more used to. There are certain golf clubs in the U.K. where foursomes is a thing. You have to play foursomes if you want to go play. I don't know what to tell you.”

What he did tell us was how appreciative he is to be here — meaning the matches as well as the United States.

“There was a time pre-Paris,” he said. referring to the 2018 matches, “I thought I might never play another Ryder Cup, having missed a couple — more than a couple.

“I was quite emotional in Paris because of that gap. The form I had been through, and to be part of that great team in Paris, was just one of the most special moments of my career.”

The bloody, annoying Americans welcome you back.

DeChambeau: Big hitter with a big chance in the Cup

KOHLER, Wis. — There’s a saying in baseball: any manager who can’t get along with a .340 hitter is in the wrong business.

Let’s modify that opinion: any golfer who can’t get along with a 380-yard driver is on the wrong Ryder Cup team.

Yes, Bryson DeChambeau, the not-so-incredible bulk, is occasionally a problem, perhaps a trifle egotistical and apparently feuding with Brooks Koepka.

But if he seems a disruption for the American team, the way he hits the ball DeChambeau should be a major disruption for the opposition, Europe.

Of the five matches in the Cup, four are team competition — either better ball, when scores of each player count, or alternate shot. Who wouldn’t want the chance to hit the approach after Bryson hits the tee ball out there around 400 yards?

We’re told one reason America has done so poorly in recent Ryder Cup play is that we’re a nation of individualists, each preferring to go his own way. Yet how important is it to love your teammate if you love the way he putts?

Besides, there’s no open hostility among the U.S. Cup players. They aren’t the Oakland Athletics of the 1970s — or the San Diego Padres of 2021.

When they swing at something, it is white with dimples, and Titleist or TaylorMade printed on its cover.

DeChambeau is as intriguing as he can be bewildering. He grew up in Clovis, Calif., near Fresno, also the home of quarterback Daryle Lamonica. And while Lamonica went to Notre Dame (understood for a football player) before the Raiders, DeChambeau went to Southern Methodist (surprising for a golfer) before the PGA Tour.

There was no question DeChambeau could play. In 2015, he became the fifth golfer to win the NCAA and U.S. Amateur in the same year. Five years later, after adding muscle and thus hitting to the outer limits, DeChambeau won the U.S. Open — which observers said with his style, emphasizing distance over accuracy, could never be accomplished.

So who’s to say anything is impossible for the 28-year-old DeChambeau? No matter with whom he might be paired in team play, even Koepka. Both of the men involved in the mini-antagonism insist they will be supportive teammates during the Ryder Cup.

“I'd say first off I feel like I'm a player that can adapt to anything if I have to,” said DeChambeau, “and I feel like there are certain players on our team that can mesh really, really well with my game, and you guys could probably figure that out.”

One guy who has to figure it out before play begins Friday is Steve Stricker, the U.S. team captain. In his more effective younger days, Stricker became a willing and able partner of Tiger Woods.

DeChambeau played in the Cup three years ago in France and lost all of his three matches. But, hey, Tiger never had much success when he played in the Ryder Cup.

“Leading into this event,” said DeChambeau, “I think part of hitting it far is some of why I am so successful and how I could utilize my length on this golf course to potential advantage.

“As well as I've been working on my wedging and putting nonstop. Thinking about how to roll it better, thinking about how to control my distances better with this new speed. It's definitely a delicate balance, but one that I am strictly advised pretty well on to do my absolute best in the Ryder Cup.”

Which certainly is all you could want of DeChambeau. Or anybody else.

”As we look at it, we have an amazing team that has an opportunity to do something special here this week,” said DeChambeau.

Big talk from a big hitter who has the opportunity to be a big man in the biggest of international matches in golf, the Ryder Cup.

Wherever Ryder Cup is, wrong place for U.S.

KOHLER, Wis. — Wait a minute on the dateline for the Ryder Cup. You did read Kohler, Wis., but technically it’s not a postmark. And Haven, the place you enter on the road to the tournament, is unincorporated.

So, the Associated Press, official judge of such geographical decisions, says we’re in Sheboygan.

Maybe it’s all a trick to keep the European team from finding its way here, although if history is any yardstick the Euros will arrive and thus whip the good ol’ U.S. of A. as it does often in this international golf competition.

Or, with so many new kids on the roster, players such as Harris English and Tony Finau, the region known as America’s Dairyland will be the site of America’s revival.

True, the U.S. won the Cup the last time it was held in the U.S., 2016 near Minneapolis, but it has lost six of the previous eight, even with team members named Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson.

There are as many theories for the U.S. failures as there are bunkers at Whistling Straits, the course along Lake Michigan where the Cup matches will be played — a course that exists because of a rich man’s wishes.

We’re told Americans can’t play team golf. (You mean they don’t pass the ball around?) Or the Ryder Cup isn’t as important in the U.S. as it is in England, Spain and France and the other nations that make up the Europe team. Or, it isn’t as important as the Super Bowl. Or — and this one has traction — the Euros just outplay the U.S. when it matters.

One thing is definite: Whistling Straits is like no other course.

Herb Kohler, the wealthy individual who knows how to turn on and off the faucets of his plumbing supply company, went to Scotland, played lines courses and decided he would like to have his own.

The fact that linksland was formed by a receding sea thousands of years ago proved no limitation fo Kohler. He owned land along Lake Michigan a bit north of Milwaukee (and south of Green Bay), hired architect Pete Day and had his minions dump 5,000 truckloads of dirt.

A luxury hotel was built as part of a complex that now includes three courses, and for big events — the PGA Championship has been at the Straits three times — tournament big shots stay there.

The media, however, is based 60 miles away in Green Bay, where there is a football team that is known to perform more efficiently than American Ryder Cup teams.

Some caustic types have suggested that the Packers’ quarterback, a fine golfer his ownself, be put in charge of the U.S. Ryder Cuppers, but Steve Stricker, a native of Wisconsin, is the man this time.

“Europe brings a strong team, and they play well and are tough, and we always have tough matches that seem to have gone their way more times than ours lately,” Stricker said candidly.

"But we look to try to change that this week and move on. We are worried about this one, and just trying to win this one.”

As they should be.

Most of the top Euros have been at Whistling Straits. As have most Americans, including Dustin Johnson.

If you recall, Dustin Johnson had a chance to get into a playoff for the 2010 PGA Championship at the Straits, but he walked through a bunker and was penalized.

Johnson thought it was a waste area — a term that some might apply to many recent U.S. Ryder Cup performances.

At the Fortinet, they should offer a toast to Phil

NAPA — Golf and tennis are constructed on reputation, on celebrity. If you don’t have home games, you better have big names.

May we offer a toast, then, to Phil Mickelson, if with something other than the $30,000 bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti he once was privileged to drink.

Phil wasn’t leading the Fortinet Championship after Saturday’s third round — although at 10 under par after a 5-under 67 he’s in a respectable position — but he was keeping himself involved.

No less importantly, keeping us involved.

Remember how in every tournament, people would ask, “Where’s Tiger?” As we know too well, Tiger is recovering from his auto accident and never may play again.

So the sport should be grateful to Phil, who months after taking the PGA Championship at age 50 and becoming the oldest man to win a major, keeps playing — especially in tournaments struggling for recognition.

Which if you saw the fans — or rather lack of them, with nobody along the gallery ropes — would be the Fortinet, previously the Safeway and before that the Fry’s.

The PGA Tour has a problem. It’s the Julian calendar. There are 365 days, and golf can be played on every one of them. That works for many of the pros, but not necessarily for the public.

The week after the 2021 schedule concluded with the Tour Championship, the 2021-22 schedule began. Not only did the calendar year remain unchanged, 2021, so did the month, September.

But there is a sport called football, which dominates television from September through January, leaving golf to survive with tournaments that sometimes go unnoticed, if not unwatched.

But Mickelson always gets noticed, deservedly. Sometimes it’s for the wrong reasons, his pretension, his demands. But usually it’s for his golf: the uninhibited way he plays the game, his achievements (six majors), his misses (six seconds and no wins in the U.S. Open).

“Lefty,” he’s nicknamed because he swings left-handed — even though he’s right-handed. He’s known for the difficult (last week as a gimmick, he hit a flop shot over Steph Curry) and for the miraculous (Friday after his 2-wood broke, he used a driver off the fairway to save par at Silverado’s 18th).

He was on the cover of Golf Digest hitting shots backward when still at Arizona State. He was on top of the world winning a major at 50, something neither Jack Nicklaus nor anyone else could accomplish.

Arrogant? To the extreme. A few years ago, at Torrey Pines at the tournament now known as the Farmers, he ordered his caddy to pull the pin when the ball was 150 yards from the cup.

Competent? He is out there beating people young enough to be his son.

On Saturday, he got rolling on the back nine, making five birdies in a row, 13 through 17. Vintage Phil, an appropriate phrase here in the Napa Valley wine country.

“I finished up well,” Mickelson confirmed. “Had a nice stretch with the putter. I had a chance the first eight holes to get the round going, and I let a few opportunities slide, but I came back with a good, solid round.

“I’m in a position where a good round (Sunday) will do some good, and it’s fun to have a later tee time and to feel some of the nerves and so forth.”

He’s at 206 after 54 holes, four shots behind. “I know I’m going to have to shoot probably 7, 8, 9 under par to have a chance,” Mickelson said, “but either way, it’s fun having that chance.”

Fun for Phil. Fun for all of pro golf.

McNealy shows us how good those guys are on Tour

NAPA — You’ve been there. Some middle-aged guy will toss in 30 points in a pickup game and then say he could play 12th man on an NBA team. Or one of your buddies will make three or four birdies and suggest seriously he could play on Tour.

To all of the above I respond: no chance. You don’t know how remarkable those guys are.

You want to find out? Go play Silverado, where the Fortinet Championship, the first event of the PGA Tour’s 2021-22 schedule, is underway.

Any other week, the course will be available. Just pay the greens fee. Then, in a matter of speaking, you’ll pay your dues.

Compare your score to that of Maverick McNealy in Friday’s second round. He shot an 8-under-par 64. And at one stretch made three straight bogies.

Of course, in another stretch of six holes he had four birdies and an eagle. Overall he played nine holes 10-under-par (8 birdies and the eagle 3 on the ninth hole).

Maverick McNealy is a fantastic golfer, a former world No. 1 amateur while at Stanford. And in four years, he’s never won on Tour, an indication of how accomplished those Tour golfers are, how difficult the Tour is.

That one-time Tour slogan, “These guys are good”? That’s an understatement.

These guys are great. They power the ball 300 yards, sink 25-foot putts or, like the 25-year-old McNealy did on Thursday and Friday, shoot 68-64—132 and still is a mere two shots ahead with two rounds to go.

So be careful what you wish for, wary of your self-belief. Think of batting against Max Scherzer or going one-on-one against Steph Curry. That’s what it’s like on Tour — not that you could even get on Tour.

And some people wonder why Maverick is on Tour. Not that he doesn’t deserve to be — it’s just that he doesn’t need to be.

He has a degree from Stanford. His father, Scott, was one of the creators of Sun Microsystems, which he then sold for a billion dollars or so. Yes, billion with a “b”.

The British tabloid, The Sun, did a mammoth feature: “Meet Maverick McNealy, super-rich golfer and heir to $1.4 billion fortune that you’ve probably never heard of.”

We’ve heard and read about Maverick for a good while now, heard the dad grew up in Detroit, car country, and so named his sons after various vehicles. Ford built the Maverick.

What Maverick the man (he’s now 25) has built is a reputation as a golfer with panache and potential. He may be wealthy, but he knows well how golf can humble anyone from board chairman to peasant.

“The goal every year, I think, is to make East Lake,” McNealy said about the Atlanta location where the end of the season Tour Championship is held. “I think that’s a fantastic benchmark for the elite players in this game. But I also want to win.”

He’s been close, a second at Pebble Beach, but no closer. He understands how hard and challenging golf can be, even when talented (and don’t you dare say rich).  

At the least, McNealy was brilliant Friday at Silverado. He started on the back nine, which meant the eagle 3 came on the closing hole, something to stay with him until the Saturday round.

“It was crazy,” he said of the day. “It was a tale of two nines. I played flawlessly the front nine, hit it where I wanted to, felt like I was always on the wide side putting for a birdie. Made the turn, and it’s funny how things go.

“I’m the guy that has to earn my own confidence. You just don’t wake up and feel confident. I get up early and get to work.”

Which is only part of the reason these guys are good.

Sports off the edge: tennis bathroom breaks, golf harassment

No, it’s not your imagination. The sports world has gone off the edge.

Tennis players are unable either to control their bladder or their manners.

Golf, which didn’t have spectators for a year, may ban some of the ones now allowed.

And a few baseball players are acting like the spoiled rich kids some observers have long accused them of being.

This didn’t happen in the days of wooden racquets and iron men (and women), but sometime in the last few years the most important part of a major tennis tournament became something called the bathroom break.

You know, you’re out there on the main court at Arthur Ashe Stadium, just you and your opponent and 23,000 impatient spectators, when suddenly you need to go.

The problem isn’t an issue of when nature calls. It’s when out of sight, you possibly do the calling, on a cell phone, to your coach in the stands for advice or when you simply stall away — no double entendre implied.

Please don’t (ha-ha) mention the location of the U.S. Open Billie Jean King tennis complex, Flushing Meadows, N.Y.

Maybe, the way accusations flew, it should be Sing-Sing.

After he was beaten Monday night by the young Greek star Stefanos Tsitsipas in a first-round match that lasted nearly five hours, Andy Murray complained about Tsitsipas’ several and lengthy breaks.

The rule is that players are permitted a “reasonable” amount of time, obviously a subjective view.

Commenting for ESPN, Chris Evert, winner of 18 Grand Slam tournaments, had a valid point about the maneuvers that perhaps helped Tsitsipas get some of his points.

“It’s so vague. Another vague rule in tennis. And I think that’s what Andy was complaining about,” said Evert on Tuesday,

"Let me tell you, eight to 10 minutes, that gives the player time to sit with himself, to figure out what he needs to do, to reset if he needs to, to reach into his bag and get a phone call. Or reach into his bag and read a text. It opens the door to a lot of things that maybe aren’t fair in tennis.”  

There are no secrets in golf. And almost no restrictions on spectators, who because of the game’s nature literally can stand next to a player to cheer him. Or harass him.

This supposed feud between Brooks Koepka and Bryson DeChambeau became so worrisome to Steve Stricker, captain of the U.S. Ryder Cup team for which both will play, that a detente was reached.

Among the players, if not the fans.

That was great competition between DeChambeau and Patrick Cantlay, who went six extra holes Sunday in the BMW Championship. DeChambeau had his chances, but Cantlay finally won with a birdie when DeChambeau missed his.

Then, as DeChambeau headed up a hill to the clubhouse, a fan shouted, "Great job, Brooksie!"

DeChambeau made a move toward the fan and angrily shouted, “You know what? Get the f--- out.”

A day later, the PGA Tour announced it might eject fans who taunt the players by acting disrespectfully. “Fans who breach our code of conduct are subject to expulsion from the tournament and loss of their credential or ticket,” said the Tour commissioner, Jay Monahan.

That sort of regulation has long been in effect in baseball, where fans traditionally are loud and nasty. It’s understood by the guys on the diamond they must suffer the slings and arrows of the people in the stands.

This realization finally came to Francisco Lindor and Javier Baez, two members of a New York Mets team that several weeks ago went into the tank and, in fine East Coast fashion, was booed loud and long.

The heartbroken young players responded by offering a thumbs down sign when the Mets finally won a game. Management put a stop to such nonsense.

The players apologized, and everyone lived happily ever after. Didn’t they?

An old nemesis is ready to go after Tiger

So there’s Tiger Woods, in full rehab, learning to walk again with a foot reattached after that accident last March, and along comes his old nemesis, Rachel Uchitel, looking for a little publicity and a lot of money. Or should that be the other way around?

But you knew it would be like that. So did a gentleman named Shakespeare, who long ago told us in quintessential Shakespearian dialogue that sorrow comes not in single spies but in battalions.

For Mr. Woods, there’s not only the physical pain after the vehicle rollover, which experts said very well could have been fatal, but also the renewed mental anguish of being confronted by what he and his attorneys thought would remain hidden forever.

Which, as we have learned, whether the subject is literal royalty or a symbolic version, never is the case. Someone always talks or writes.

If you thought, we — and Tiger — were done with those tales from the early 2000s of Tiger and his lady friends, including Uchitel, so did most of us.


Uchitel signed an NDA, or nondisclosure agreement, something attorneys of the frequently rich and usually famous create to keep details of their clients’ peccadilloes away from prying eyes.

But a few days ago, there was a mammoth story in the New York Times, the publication offering all the news that’s fit to print — as opposed to the New York Post, which offers the juicy stuff — about Ms. Uchitel and Tiger.

The article, by Katherine Rosman, just short of 2.900 words and headlined “This is Rachel Uchitel Representing Herself,” doesn’t have much to do about saving pars but a lot about saving face — and earning a few bucks.

Somehow all that maneuvering and legalese, the decision by Tiger’s lawyers and agent, the doggedly loyal Mark Steinberg, wasn’t worth the paper it isn’t written on, to borrow that wisecrack about an oral agreement.

The timing of all this is interesting, maybe — you should excuse the word — accidental.

Uchitel, to use a golfing analogy, seems like someone in match play, 2 down with 2 to play. Might as well pull the driver out of the bag and go for broke. Which she claims she is, the millions paid to silence her eventually going to taxes or lawyers.

These celebrity cases have a life of their own. Politicians, actors, athletes remain vulnerable — not that the issues aren’t of their own creation — and remain fascinating.

That Woods has suffered the indignities, as well as suffering the crash, has been compared to a Greek tragedy. The hero has fallen.

Rachel Uchitel doesn’t want to pick him up — just pick herself up.

Wrote Katherine Rosman in the Times, “In 2009, days after the dramatic revelation of her affair with the golfer Tiger Woods, then married, Ms. Uchitel signed a nondisclosure agreement more than 30 pages long, prohibiting her from talking about Mr. Woods with anyone. She was represented by the famed Hollywood lawyer Gloria Allred.

“In return for her silence, under pressure to protect a powerful man’s reputation and brand, she got $5 million and a promise of $1 million annually for three years to follow. ‘His lawyers are saying, “We want all your text messages and here’s the price,”‘ she recalled, ‘and you’re like “screw you” and you move into deal-maker mode and all of a sudden, it’s the rest of your life.’

“Now, at 46, Ms. Uchitel — tired of not being able to defend herself against continued insinuations from tabloids and gossip websites — is ready to blow it all up.”

Woods and his legal team have had no response to Uchitel’s tactic. One guesses that their immediate concern is Tiger’s medical situation. What a mess. Greek tragedy indeed.

Rahm: From holding his face to holding the Open trophy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rory plays Torrey like the champion he is

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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