Sundays at the US Open: Memories and How to Watch a Golf Tournament

This week the United States Golf Association is putting on the 113th US Open golf tournament at the classic Merion East Course, with its distinctive red wicker basket topped pins, located along the Philiadelphia Main Line in Ardmore, Pennsyvania. The favorite is Tiger Woods.

I've had the pleasure of attending three US Open golf tournaments -- 1997 at Congressional in Bethesda Maryland, 2004 at Schinnecock Hills on the tip of Long Island New York and in 2011 at Congressional again. The victors of those events were Ernie Els (who held off Tom Lehman), Retief Goosen (who staved off Phil Mickelson) and Rory McIlroy (who lapped the field). By that cycle, God willing and if the creek don't rise one might think I would be aiming for 2018, but that means going back east to  Shinnecock.  Now from Montana more likely I will attend the 2115 Open scheduled for Chambers Bay in Washington, just south of Seattle, or the 2119 event scheduled for Pebble Beach Golf Links on the Monterrey Peninsula south of San Francisco.

A golf tournament is like no other event. The stage is spread out over 150 or more acres and the actors are constantly on the move.  And a US Open is a spectacle like no other tournament.  The course set up is extraordinarily difficult.  The stakes are high and the choke quotient is off the charts. 

Ernie Els leaps out of the bunker to mark his
ball on the 7th green at Shinnecock in 2004
before it can start to roll back.

Spectators have a choice of staying in place and watching the show go by or tagging along with a favored pairing or pairings.  In my experience it is best to do some of both. There are parts of a course that present the most interesting challenges or noteworthy vistas and then there are the players you just have to see. Take for example the infamous Sunday round in 2004 at Shinnecock.  USGA staff pushed the Redan green on the par 3 7th hole beyond its limits.  It couldn't hold a ball.  Uphill chips or putts stopping a few inches from the hole would merely pause before beginning to roll backyards down the slope, off the green, and frequently into an adjoining bunker. It was a fiasco not to be missed.  The same day, drama followed Phil Mickelson as he played out his usual Sunday afternoon US Open swoon. Phil and the incredibly supportive "Happy Birthday" singing New York crowd had to be seen and heard to be believed. If pure will and emotion were all that counted there was no way Lefty would have lost.

Payne Stewart at the 1997 US Open

Getting back to the my first Open, the biggest challenge in 1997 was to compete with 40,000 spectators to get a clear view of Tiger Woods.  He had turned pro to outsize hype the previous fall and then surpassed the hype and surged to international acclaim that spring with a record triumph in the Masters at Augusta National. Few in attendance at Congressional had seen Tiger in person before. Everyone wanted to see him now. One way to see players up close and personal is to hang around the practice putting green. I did. I remember watching Jack Nicklaus putt.  Payne Stewart walked by in his distinctive plus fours, ivy cap and wearing a brightly colored flower pattern shirt. Nicklaus noted Stewart's presence by pointing to the shirt and letting loose with a big "Achoo!" Two years later Stewart won his second US Open.  Four months after that Stewart died in a tragic plane accident.

Woods was working with instructor Butch Harmon at the time. Butch drilled Tiger on one handed putts, to ingrain keeping the hands ahead of the ball and taking wrist action out of the stroke.  Tiger's caddie, Fluff Cowan, was a human ball return. Tiger was serious, focused and seemingly oblivious to all that surrounded him. Back and forth, it was an incessant joyless grind, until Woods spotted a lone amateur qualifier at the other end of the putting green practicing out of a stand bag. The amateur was a college kid who had no more chance than I did of actually winning the tournament.  His name was Joel Kribel. He attended Stanford where he was Tiger's teammate until Nike beckoned with tens of millions of dollars to initiate his debut "Hello World" ad campaign. Woods came alive. His eyes lit up. He grinned ear to ear and tossed balls over at Kribel to get his attention. Woods strode over, gave Kribel a big bear hug and talked animated and free like I have never seen Tiger Woods act before or since. From that point forward I understood there were two Tiger Woods, the controlled and disciplined icon for public consumption and the real untamed spirit beneath it all.

As for watching Woods on the course, I learned quickly you could follow him for 18 holes, but could only really see him for 9.  Trying to keep up with Woods on every hole meant being behind 10, 20 or 30 people deep galleries, and even with my 6'3" height I could only spy the top of a swing or a quick glint of his profile. I learned the way to actually see Woods was to skip a hole ahead and wait for the group to come to you. Then it's possible to set up where the gallery is 2, 3 or 4 deep with relatively unobstructed views. Then repeat, skipping another hole ahead. 

The Sunday afternoon inward nine in 1997 came down to a duel between Tom Lehman and Ernie Els, with Lehman clearly the crowd and sentimental favorite. But Lehman sealed his fate on the par 4 17th hole (now the 18th) when he rinsed his approach slot with a slight pull to the left of the green.  In my mind's eye I can still see Lehman fishing his ball out of the pond.

Galleries tend to congregate around the tees and greens. You can get good views from either if you show up early or late on Thursdays or Fridays, or at any time if you work your way forward and then stick to your ground. On the weekends I shy away from the tees and greens except if I can get a bleacher seat on a par 3, which usually affords a great view of the hole plus another nearby green or teeing ground. Moving around the course I like to set up about a hundred or so yards short of a green. That usually affords a clear view of the putting surface, lets you see descending drives land (on par 4's) or layups (on par 5's) and be closeup to players hitting their approach shots.

I had a friend who worked for the IRS (outside of a work environment they can be decent folk). He recommended following the first group out on a Saturday or Sunday to get a feel for how the course was playing and to help decide where you want to set up when the contenders come through later in the day. That's what I did Sunday morning at Shinnecock in 2004, following Kevin Stadler and J.J. Henry, who were young struggling players, first out because they had the highest scores among those who had made the cut.  I didn't know it yet when we set off along the first hole, but the USGA and tournament staff had lost the greens -- they were baked, hard as a rock and almost impossible to hold. The sharply sloped 7th hole mesa-like "Redan" green, was the worst.   

Said NBC's Johnny Miller: "The first two groups had to take it in the shorts, to be perfectly honest." 

Henry's playing partner, San Diego native Kevin Stadler, shot 85. He had only a 2-foot putt for his par at No. 7, but the ball caught the lip and eventually rolled into the bunker. From there, he made 6.

"It kind of knocked me off-kilter," said Stadler, who played the last 12 holes in 14-over after playing the first six in 1-over.

I saw the first group carnage close up. After Stadler holed out I detected a familiar voice just behind.  It was Johnny Miller kneeling on the flatbed of an NBC truck. I yelled up, "There will be no 63's today, will there Johnny?"  He chuckled. Miller had once took advantage of soft greens to shoot 63 at Oakmont on a Sunday morning to win the US Open with the best final round in Open history. After teeing off on No. 8 Kevin Stadler stopped by and talked with Miller, engaging in the only on course in progress major tournament interview I have ever seen or heard of. It was a day that defeated every golfer but one. Later, Stadler didn't mince words.

Watching his two-foot par putt at No. 7 drift 60 feet into a bunker was well beyond the last straw for Kevin Stadler.

"Saturday and Sunday were the longest, most miserable days of my life," Stadler said. "The last 10 holes I just wanted to walk off the golf course."

Later that afternoon I set up close to 300 yards out on the par 5 16th hole which was a double dogleg that most of the players tried to cut off with their drives. Many of their shots landed within feet of where I stood. There were chances for birdies and eagles, but also penal lies that invited bogies or worse. A USGA photographer caught me in the background after one shot.

I am the guy in the red shirt four people to the left of Mike Weir, who had just sculled a shot off the unpaved path, and was looking down, as golfers often do, to blame the lie.

Late in the day I followed Phil Mickelson in the second to last group on to the par 3 17th hole where he did his usual play himself out of the Open routine by wiping his tee shot into a bunker and then three putting for a double bogey from ten feet. He has lost about as many as Tiger has won.

Phil Mickelson planning his bunker shot at the 17th at Shinnecock. 
 I am one of the heads appearing just barely above the ridge behind Lefty's right leg. 

Fast forward to 2011 -- the morning of the first round of the US Open at Congressional in 2011 I walked on to the Blue Course from a rear entrance and crossed the berm next to the 17th fairway. Below I spied the distinctive profile and swing of Phil Mickelson hitting his approach on to the green. Then the next player, who I did not immediately recognize, hit his approach. It was the smoothest, most rhythmic and effortless swing I had ever seen. The sound of ball striking club was pure. There was a lot of buzz about Rory McIlroy's potential. In that instant I understood why.

McIlroy & Lefty, 2011 US Open

The 2011 Open was all McIlroy all the time. The 22-year old led by 3 strokes after the first round, built the lead to 8 strokes after the second round and maintained that lead to the end of the tournament. On Sunday I hopscotched around the front nine to observe McIlroy and then jumped ahead to join the crowd in the cavernous amphitheater surrounding the par 3 10th. Playing partner Y.E. Yang hit a fantastic tee shot to within 5 feet.  Then McIlroy stiffed a 6 iron to less than a foot. The crowd roared. And I knew I had witnessed the emergence of the next great golfer, someone who would take on Tiger Woods, and whatever legacy Woods would leave in his wake.