Solana Beach, California, Saturday June 13, 10:30pm
Well, three rounds of the US Open have been played, and I've seen some pretty incredible things in the last couple of days. For the first two rounds, Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson were grouped together along with Adam Scott (who is no slouch either). Thursday's round was a seesaw affair, with neither Tiger nor Phil being able to accomplish much. As I watched from the grandstand on the 18th green, a par 5, they both hit their second shots onto the green. Phil was able to 2 two putt for a birdie, but Tiger three putted for par (three putting sucks ass). Phil finished one stroke ahead of Tiger for round one.
Then came Friday. Phil continued to struggle, but Tiger was able to mount a very impressive second nine, and ended up shooting 68, a very good score, to end the day at two under par and within one shot of the lead. Phil ended up at four over par, still within reach but he would have to play exceptionally well to be in contention.
That brings us to today. I would have to say that what I saw today was definitely worth the price of admission. I had followed Mike Weir's group and Phil's group in the morning, since they teed off much earlier than the leaders. When I got to the 13th hole, I planted myself in the front row on the green and thought about staying there for a while. The 13th hole is a monster, over 610 yards long and having a huge hill just before the green, making approach shots very interesting for the spectators, but not so much fun for the pros.
Then came the Phil Mickelson meltdown. First, he drove his tee shot into the deep right rough, then whacked it out into the left rough, just at the bottom of the big hill. Now, this is a par five, so he was in okay shape, all he had to do is hit his approach onto the middle of the green, two putt, and get the hell outta there with par – no damage done, right?
Instead, he decides to attack the pin, which was carefully placed at the very front of the green and just over the crest of the hill. His first attempt came sailing over the crest, bounced once, and then rolled back down the hill, basically coming to rest where he had had just hit. Attempt two was no better, he again tried to hit the ball close to the hole, but instead came up just short and and again the ball rolled back down the hill. I think at this minute Phil had a Tin Cup moment. He loaded up a third time, and again hit it short, ball rolls back down the hill. There was a collective gasp from the gallery each time he missed, it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion, horrifyingly surreal but fascinating at the same time. On his fourth attempt, he finally just hit the ball to the middle of the green, and there was cheering from the crowd, but I think it was partially relief and partially a Bronx cheer. In any event, Phil went on to three putt from 25 feet, and ended up with a QUADRUPLE bogey nine. In the four hours or so that I sat watching the 13th hole, there were only 2 other bogeys, and a lot of birdies. W-O-W, was all anyone could say. I figure that if I played this hole 10 times, I might not card a nine on any of the attempts. Incredible.
Then came the Tiger magic. Now, I'm not a Tiger fan, in fact, I'm usually an ABT, or Anyone But Tiger fan, but even I have to admit that his back nine was incredible. I was still sitting at the 13th hole, and we could see him tee off in the far distance, and then all of a sudden this huge group on people start running towards the port-a-potties to the left, it was pretty clear that Tiger had hit his ball into the cluster of port-a-potties (how poetic, I thought). After walking over there, he realized that because the TV tower is in his way he asked for and got relief from the rules official, and was able to move the ball. There was considerable muttering in the crowd about another “Tiger ruling”, but he was able to move the ball out of the toilets and into the rough. He then proceeds to hit an amazing shot onto the back of the green, lying two at this point. Now, all he has to do is two putt for birdie and move onto the next hole.
Now comes the ironic part. Up to that point, no other golfer had read the putt correctly, the vast majority of them had missed the putt to the left. Getting fed up with everyone missing left, for one group I yelled out “it breaks more than it looks!” The two golfers in that group promptly stepped up and missed both putts to the right! They took my advice, but a little too much. There were a lot of snickers from the people around me.
As Tiger starts to line up his 50 foot putt, someone behind me asks “aren't you going to offer up some advice?” “Nah,” I replied, “he doesn't need my help!” Of course, I really don't want to help Tiger get an eagle. So doesn't he step up and hit the putt, more to the right than anyone previous. Internally I was groaning, I had a very baaaad feeling about this putt. With about 10 feet to go Tiger's caddie starts to gyrate wildly, and inexorably the ball continues its track, like a radar guided missile, right into the hole! The crowd went absolutely nuts, and it took about five minutes before any semblance of order was restored, it was deafening.
As the crowd dissipated (Tiger's army resembles a herd of sheep, bleating “go Tiger” incessantly and following him over the entire course, everyone struggling to stand on their tippy toes or peer through a mass of crowded bodies to catch a even a quick glimpse), I made my way over to the 17th hole, knowing that in a few minutes the leaders would come through again. As I stood on a small hill just beside the 17th green, each of the leading groups played through. Then Tiger's group arrived, and it seemed that the entire 17th green was swallowed up with his supporters. We watched as his tee shot went way right, then his approach shot out of the rough landed short and to the left of the hole. He calmly stepped up, took a couple of practice strokes, and then promptly one-bounced his chip shot into the hole for birdie! Again, the crowd went bananas, and it took another five minutes for the howling to subside. All during the applause, Tiger had this sheepish grin on his face, obviously knowing that he got a gift from the golf gods.
At this point I'm sick to my stomach. I've watched him for two holes, and he's three under for those two holes! I decided to not follow the now massive crowd to the 18th hole, and instead began to make my way to the exit. I didn't want to bring Tiger any more good fortune. As I made my way to the exit, which was about a 10 minute walk, I heard another massive roar, and I found out that Tiger had made another eagle on 18. I was thankful I wasn't around to watch that, and was secretly relieved to know that I wasn't Tiger's magic charm, I might have had to quit watching golf.
Well, that's what's happened thus far at the US Open. I guess I'll have to wake up early tomorrow to go watch the inevitable crowning of Tiger as the champ. But there's still plenty of golf yet to play, and who knows what could happen...
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