Phil in horrors after early ‘breakfast ball’

Not quite ignorant enough to think that we invented golf, we Americans have taken disconcerting liberties with the game.

Island greens. Manicured fairways. Thick, hack-out rough. Greens that appear to be burial grounds for elephants. Oh, and the infamous “breakfast ball,” an American golf staple that once left a British friend speechless at the first tee on one of his first trips to the states.

“A what?” he asked, after an American peeled a drive miles right and declared he was entitled to “a breakfast ball,” as if it were etched into the Rules of Golf.

Aghast, my British friend was perhaps six holes into his round before he could get over what he considered a massive transgression.

He is right and you needn’t be a golf purist to feel the shame of accepting a mulligan. But oh, how Phil Mickelson is perhaps wishing it were a part of the landscape. Having waited all year for another chance to chase a US Open title that has agonisingly eluded his talented hands, imagine the anguish when the lefthander discovered that his opening tee shot to the 112th US Open at The Olympic Club was not only miles right, it was lost.

Imagine how long, lonely, and laborious the walk back to the ninth tee was, though it was tempered by Mickelson salvaging bogey. In some respects it might have been seen as a positive – he had avoided a double – only what followed was an inexplicable stretch that left Mickelson reeling – bogeys at 10 and 11, then at 14 and 16, a ferocious par 5 that seemingly runs the length of California. When he had played his first 10 holes in 4-over, Mickelson stepped to the first tee and it was if you could sense his exceedingly high championship hopes weighing him down.

The pressure was on, for what now faced the lefthander was arguably the most demanding six-hole stretch in major championship golf. He wasn’t up for the challenge, playing them in 2 over to shoot 76, eons from the lead.

For years, Mickelson was the posterboy for big-stage heartache and seemingly he was going to forever own the label “best player never to have won a major.” Then he slithered home an 18-foot birdie putt at the 72nd hole to win the 2004 Masters, which he followed with a PGA Championship a year later. Two more green jackets have come his way and while that can soften a lot of major heartache, the guess is it doesn’t put a dent into the disappointment of falling short at the 1999 US Open or the 2002 edition, or those in 2004 or 2006.

He is, above all, about winning, and that he’s never done that in his country’s national championship gnaws at him.

“Could have, should have won a few of those,” Mickelson conceded.

He remains the consummate glass-is-half-full type of guy, so Mickelson remains passionate about this championship. His close calls at Pinehurst and Bethpage, Shinnecock and Winged Foot “give me the belief that I can compete and be in contention on Sunday in this tournament.”

Nothing about his start indicates such a situation will occur, for Mickelson scripted a blueprint that is a recipe for disaster in a US Open. He missed the fairway badly at his first hole, did likewise at his second, and by the time he played the course’s first par 5, the 670-yard 16th, he was playing Army golf – left, right, left, right.

As stellar as Tiger Woods was (10 fairways, 11 greens, a round of 69), Mickelson was a mixed bag of shaky (30 putts), bad (seven fairways), and horrible (eight greens). So is a 22nd chance to win his first U.S. Open already done and finished? Solemn and clearly crushed by his start, Mickelson sounded like it was. Instead, he had a less lofty task.

“I’ve got to put this round aside,” he said. “I’ve got a tough challenge just to get to the weekend.”