When the going got rough, Spieth found his salvation
Jordan Spieth put on a clinic at the Open Championship - only it wasn’t the cliched ‘clinic’ of ball-striking so frequently schmoozed on by American golf commentators, it was a psychiatric clinic. Method and madness walked hand in hand. It is hard to remember a time when a professional sportsman has so embraced his demons on and off the course.
Spieth was in meltdown when he came to the 13th tee. He had had a horrible start, scattering shots over the first few holes. He recovered briefly but then threeputted the ninth from nowhere. He hooked his 3-wood from the 10th tee and was concerned the ball might be lost.
From the middle of the 11th fairway he pulled a short iron into the crowd.
Then Spieth drove his ball from the 13th tee.
It headed right towards the crowd, only it was the crowd watching a different hole. The ball was off the map. Spieth backed away as if entirely disassociating himself with the shot.
Spieth wanted to walk away, only you can’t walk away when you still have a share of the lead in the final round of a major. And now he had company, lots of company when he finally got to his ball. There was the bloke who Spieth’s ball had beaned. There were referees in blue and marshals in orange caps, hovering like doctors and nurses.
Spieth had found himself in the middle of the cuckoo’s nest. His ball was unplayable. Where could he drop? He walked to the top of a hill. Was the practice range behind in bounds? Apparently it was. So Spieth continued going backwards until he found a place to drop.
The drop spot was by some black rubbish bins between some huge equipment trucks. From wheelie bin to loony bin, Spieth’s career was going off the rails. What was left of his wheelie bin mind was trying to dump the memories of his collapse at last year’s Masters.
The ref said the truck was an immoveable obstruction which seemed ironic given it had the only wheels in the vicinity which hadn’t actually come off. Eventually Spieth found a place to re-drop and then discussed yardage with caddie Michael Greller. By the time Spieth eventually hit, a discarded 3-wood lying on the ground by his side, civilisations had risen and fallen.
Spieth felt guilty about all the time he had needed and ran back up the hill and towards the green. That showed class. And class was followed by a miracle. He got it up and down for a bogey, nearly holed his tee shot at the next, holed a monster for eagle on the 15th, slid in a 20-footer for birdie on the 16th and again got up and down for birdie on the 17th. He had played the next four holes in five under par.
Jamie Spence, in commentary, sympathised with Matt Kuchar who looked crushed. ‘‘He’s up against Harry Potter,’’ he said.
Doubtless all the time necessary to get the ruling had saved Spieth from himself. He had been forced to deal with other people and other thoughts. He had accidentally been granted a timeout like a pro tennis player taking a bathroom break.
The only bloke who could have beaten Spieth on the final day at Birkdale was himself and he was doing a hell of a good job at it until that moment. That was why Tiger was so good. He never beat himself. Until the Fall. And now Tiger plays golf against himself every day and just can’t find a way to win. What a game. It’s a mindmelt.
And what an extraordinary presser Spieth gave afterwards. Quote after quote will go in The Shrink’s Guide to Safe Golf. The moment he came in the door Spieth said, with a smile: ‘‘We can skip the first 12 holes right.?’’ Well no, but carry on.
Alluding to the 2016 Masters, Spieth said, ‘‘A couple of bad swings and suddenly it was in my own head - how can I not close out a five-stroke lead with nine to play?’’
‘‘Imagine the thoughts come in from my last scenario when I was leading a major on Sunday. Never mention it. But it creeps into your head. All of a sudden the wheels come off everything.’’
He talked about faith and family: ‘‘But when you’re out there you’re not thinking about the stuff that is more important to you ... it would have helped.’’
He talked of owing a lot to his caddie who reminded him of a recent holiday with the likes of Michael Phelps, Michael Jordan and Russell Wilson. Greller called Spieth back as he walked from the 7th tee and said: ‘‘You’re that calibre of athlete but I need you to believe that right now.’’
Greller talked of momentum shift as they left the 13th green. Spieth said: ‘‘His belief fed over. All I needed was a little bit of selfbelief.’’
That’s all we ever need, but sometimes it is as elusive as the Holy Grail. Tiger would rather have cut his tongue out than admit to frailty. But Spieth walks a different path and it will be fascinating to discover if this triumph over adversity and this confessional make him stronger. A win at next month’s PGA will make him the sixth and youngest to complete the career grand slam
Spieth’s coach Cameron McCormick spoke after the round of ‘‘the magnitude of rising again’’.
And the words made you wonder if Royal Birkdale, the tombstone on Tiger’s career, may just mark the second coming of Jordan Spieth.