Here is a description of the 18th hole at Winged Foot’s historic West course, complete with nickname and original comments from course designer Albert W. “Tillie” Tillinghast, as provided in the official program from the 106th United States Open championship:
Par 4, 450 Yards
“Revelations”
“The closing hole at Winged Foot is a classic. The sweeping, dogleg left likely will be played with a 3-wood off the tee. . . . Exciting moments in U.S. Open history seem to be commonplace at this superb finishing hole.
“Tillie’s Take: `Revelations at last. Certainly one of the most attractive greens of them all, requiring a drive placed on the right followed by a high-drifting iron to the elevation of the cup. A pulled tee shot brings trouble.'”
Here is how Phil Mickelson played the 18th hole Sunday:
Tee shot: With a driver, not a 3-wood. Sliced far to the left, off a hospitality tent.
Phil’s take: “I tried to go to my bread-and-butter shot, a baby carve slice. . . . It was still OK, wasn’t too bad.”
Next shot: A 3-iron. Which turned out to be a tree-iron. His shot hit a tree.
Phil’s take: “I had to go through it. Instead it hit a branch and went right back at me.”
Third shot: Into a trap to the left of the 18th green. With the ring it made in the sand, it looked like a fried egg.
Phil’s take: “It was buried.”
Fourth shot: Over the green, into a thatch of high grass beyond the fringe.
Phil’s take: “I don’t know what happened in those bunkers (all week). I’ve never seen so much sand.”
Fifth shot: Past the pin by a good 8 feet.
Last shot: A putt for a double-bogey, a 74 and a loss by one shot in the Open.
Phil’s take: “I am such an idiot.”
There you have it, the climax–thrilling climax, anti-climax, shocking climax, whatever you care to call it–to one of the goofiest golf tournaments you ever will see, with first Colin Montgomerie and then Mickelson making every colossal blunder a man could possibly make to hand 29-year-old Geoff Ogilvy a silver trophy on a silver platter.
Lovers of good golf will talk, laugh and express amazement about this one for years.
About how all either Montgomerie or Mickelson needed to do was make a four, whereupon each stepped up and made a six. About how all Ogilvy had to do was stand and watch while the comedy duo of Monty and Lefty staged a golf scene as funny as any since Ed Norton demonstrated to Ralph Kramden how to address the ball: “Hello, ball.”
Somewhere in front of a TV, Tiger Woods must have busted a gut over this.
It is common knowledge that Woods is not Mickelson’s greatest fan. So whatever sting the former must have felt Friday after missing a cut in a major tournament for the first time and catching a private jet out of New York, it had to have been assuaged a bit by Mickelson’s major collapse.
Day after day, Mickelson had been the darling of Winged Foot’s rowdy crowds. He loped to the tee slapping palms along the way as if he were Jay Leno. He grinned from ear to ear throughout much of the tournament, basking in a newfound popularity that a New York Times writer called greater than that afforded to Alex Rodriguez of the Yankees.
Spraying the ball to all fields, Mickelson missed fairway after fairway.
On one rip, he practically swung and missed.
On dozens of others, he hit the ball in every direction but straight.
And still his first U.S. Open title was in the bag. Second-place paychecks were a thing of the past. This was the all-new Mickelson, the one who won the Masters, the one who knew how to win the majors, the one whose 35-35 scorecard for Thursday’s first round came just before he turned 36.
“This is a tournament that I dreamt of winning as a kid, that I spent countless hours practicing for,” he said. “I came out here weeks and months in advance to get ready and had it right there in my hand, man.”
Winged Foot was the winner.
It whipped the professionals again, the way it had in four U.S. Opens of the past. It teased everybody from Montgomerie to Steve Stricker to Ken Ferrie to Jim Furyk into thinking that he would be the exception to the rule, the chosen one who would survive the late Mr. Tillinghast’s obstacle course.
Some hated it. Some loved it. Wishing to be counted among the latter was Hinsdale’s Jeff Sluman, whose blistering 32 on the front nine Sunday made it look briefly as if he might be the one to bring “the Foot” to its knees.
Sluman called it “the fairest, best setup I’ve ever seen.”
Mickelson thought the same. He loved every inch of the course. Unfortunately he saw every inch. His shots went every which way, over hills, over dales, off of trees, off of tents. The last one did go into a hole, but it was too little, too late.
“It was right there and I let it go,” he said. “I just cannot believe I did that.”
Revelations.
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mikedowney@tribune.com
