Philly Mick and the Curse of the U.S. Open
SAN DIEGO - It's Poe's raven, sitting on his shoulder, croaking, “Never! Not ever!” It's a owl sitting up in a tree on a dreary night, quietly hooting, “Whooo? Not youuuu!” It's the thing that lurks under the bed when the thunder rolls and the rain lashes the windows in the dense dark outside.It's the U.S. Open. For Phil Mickelson, it's the U.S. Open, an exercise in eerie catastrophes. Most guys lose the Open. Mickelson falls on it, like an old sword, like an exercise in arcane honor. It's the death wish with a dimpled ball.
It's clear now, if it wasn't earlier, that for Mickelson, the U.S. Open is something t conjured up by a shriveled old lady in a swamp outside New Orleans, cackling over a bubbling pot. It's an enchantress of celestial beauty, and when he reaches for her, she turns into a faceless, nameless gunk in his arms.
Mickelson reached for her again Saturday, in the third round, at Torrey Pines' par-5 13th. He perished.
“Well, gosh,” said Mickelson, the only player who can say “gosh” after being skewered by the fates. “It's a birdie hole. I felt like if I could get birdie there on 13, I could get back to even for the day.”
Actually, he made 9. His first, he recalled, since he was 8, a kid growing up playing Torrey Pines. This time, he should have been wearing a wig and a rubber nose.
This man with one of the storied short games in golf lay two at the foot of the hill, facing a simple little wedge up to the elevated green, with the pin sitting enticingly close to the front. His first wedge fell softly, and the ball rolled back down the hill to him. He hit again, and again it came back down. He hit again, and again the ball came rolling back down. Finally, resolutely, he flipped the ball about 15 above the pin. It held. His first putt went about 6 feet past, but it stopped short of rolling off the green and down the hill. He two-putted coming back
for the 9.
“I hit L wedge the first time, from 80-something yards,” he said, “and then I hit the 64 [degree wedge] the second and third and fourth.”
Maybe it was just a coincidence. The 13th, revamped for this Open, was the hole he ripped so harshly earlier. Maybe the hole heard him and remembered.
It will be recalled that Mickelson made one of the greatest gaffes in U.S. Open history in 2006 at Winged Foot. Among other things, that one served to obscure the earlier one, killers all.
Consider the 1995 Open at Shinnecock Hills. Mickelson's deathwish was focused on the par-5 16th. He played it in 6 over par. He double-bogeyed it twice, the second time in the final round just after he got within a shot of Corey Pavin, who went on to win.
Then there was the 1999 U.S. Open at Pinehurst. Mickelson made only one bogey in the final round, at the 16th, and fell into tie with Payne Stewart. Mickelson missed a 10-foot putt at the 17th, and at the 18th, Stewart holed a par putt from 20 feet, gave his famous lunge of victory, then rushed to a glazed-eyed Mickelson and told him how great it was going to be, being a father.
At Bethpage Black in 2002, the collapse came in the third round. Mickelson made three straight birdies from No. 7, made three more birdies over the last six holes, then blew away his drive at the 18th and bogeyed. This put him in front of Tiger Woods for the final round, and he went 2-over in a hurry, and it was over.
Back at Shinnecock in 2004, he was tied with Retief Goosen coming to the par-3 17th, and so how did he resolve this opportunity? By bunkering his tee shot and making 5.
But Winged foot in 2006 was the marquee gaffe. Yes, he hit only four fairways in the final round, and the 18th, where he was still leading was not one of them. It was, however, the only exhibition tent he hit, well off to the right. A simple air-mail shot into the grandstands to the right of the green would have set him up with a free drop near the green, but he drew a blank, opted for an artistic finish, and hit tree and bunker, and double-bogeyed, leaving a surprised Geoff Ogilvy to win.
The fates struck early in 2007. He went to practice at Oakmont, damaged his wrist trying to hit out of the awful rough, and that was that.
So Mickelson can retire to the relative comfort of the final round Sunday, knowing that nothing can befall him. The fatal damage has already done, and this time it's a blessing in disguise. The fates didn't wait till the final round, till he was reaching again for the big cup, to nail him.
For his well-being and peace of mind, it's time to summon up Shakespeare, and that harsh observation that the fault is not in the stars, but in ourselves.
In Mickelson's case, it's the stars.
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