Oakmont an open wound for Phil Mickelson
Then again, what’s left for either man to say about this major championship? It has left each of them heartbroken, deflated, bitter, and deserving of more.
At least “deserving” in their minds, and probably in the minds of some fans, though truth be told the game owes nothing to any competitor, professional or amateur. If trophies were handed merely for being the best players, then surely Sam Snead would have won a few US Opens, rather than none, and Colin Montgomerie’s resumé would not be devoid of even one Claret Jug.
Oh, how the list could go on and on. Arnold Palmer never won a PGA, ditto Tom Watson, and somehow Ernie Els’ closet doesn’t include a green jacket. Snead’s heartache likely stirs the emotions of the oldest of fans, though you can debate which US Open was more deflating: Making triple-bogey at the 72nd hole to lose his lead or falling in a playoff to unheralded Lew Worsham in 1947.
Chances are, Snead was never able to separate the two, probably lumping them into one massive headache.
Reported to have said, “You not only have to be good, but you also have to have two horseshoes up your rear end. You’ve got to be lucky to win the US Open,” Snead as he grew older never liked talking about the one major he never won. Which sort of explains, perhaps, why neither Mickelson nor Johnson were seen sprinting to the interview room here at Oakmont CC.
Bad enough they have to live with the remnants of their US Open stumbles; why continue to answer questions about heartaches of yesteryear? While it’s Johnson’s disappointment that is freshest in the history books — a 12-foot eagle putt at the 72nd hole would have won, a birdie putt would have tied, only he three-putted for bogey to finish T-2 — the Mickelson saga resonates more.
After all, who chooses to be in the record book for a dubious distinction? Yet that’s where Mickelson is, under the heading “Most Times Runner-up.” What follows are six — count ‘em, six — entries and let the beer-room banter commence as to which leaves the biggest scar.
My gut tells me that the memorable 2006 US Open at Winged Foot will score the biggest hit and if you’re a Mickelson fan you will feel a sting at the recall. He led by one standing on the 72nd tee, pushed his drive left and behind a tree, then played a risky shot out, only to hit another tree. An ensuing double-bogey left him tied with Montgomerie and Jim Furyk, all of them one behind the winner, Geoff Ogilvy.
“There are more bogeys in the last nine holes of the US Open than in any other tournament in God’s creation,” is how Raymond Floyd once explained this championship and surely Ogilvy’s opponnets discovered that at Winged Foot.
Still, Mickelson’s 2013 failure at Merion rates higher in many respects. There were two three-putts early, a late bogey at 13 to cough up the lead, and in the end Justin Rose wiped out a two-shot deficit and beat Mickelson by two. Shooting 74 to Rose’s 70 left Mickelson stunned.
“Very heartbreaking. This could have been the big turnaround for me on how I look at the US Open . . . after having had so many good opportunities,” Mickelson said moments after that bitter ending to Merion.
By nature, Mickelson is a guy whose glass is always half-full, though outside of Philadelphia that Sunday he sounded very much like someone who knew his cup had run dry. If there’s a limit to the number of chances a golfer has to win a championship, it would surprise no one if the left-hander had reached his.
There wasn’t any sort of spirited run in 2014 (he finished T-28) and last summer’s effort out at Chambers Bay in the Pacific Northwest was a particularly weak performance, despite an opening 69. When rounds of 74-77-73 followed, Mickelson probably turned his 2016 attention to this week’s stop at Oakmont. Unfortunately, this beast of a golf course is where Mickelson shot 79 in the fourth round in 1994 (he was T-47) and missed the cut in 2007.
So Mickelson is 0-for-2 at Oakmont, which offers plenty reason to expect him to be 0-for-26 in the US Open when this year’s championship concludes. Which brings to mind what Cary Middlecoff once said: “Nobody wins the US Open. It wins you.” If you are prompted to ask, “Why didn’t it ever choose Phil Mickelson?” you are not alone.







