Decorum par for course
BROOKLINE, Mass. — Historic moments are common at the U.S. Open, which is to be expected for a championship first held in 1895. But Thursday, in the opening round of the 122nd playing of the event, there was a notable first that would have been unthinkable even a month ago.
Fifteen golfers who recently spurned the established PGA Tour to align with an upstart, Saudibacked circuit that has recruited new members with hundreds of millions of dollars in inducements would compete alongside the players they had just deserted.
The setting had all the elements of a stirring, emotional clash: an underlying sense of betrayal, accusations of soulless greed, the prospect of transformative change and a popular, beloved figure trapped in the cynosure of the firestorm.
But it turns out elite golf has too much decorum for all that.
Consider the scene as Phil Mickelson, the sixtime major champion and the best-known defector to the LIV Golf Invitational series, prepared to begin his round. Last weekend, Mickelson, who turned 52 on Thursday, was reportedly paid $200 million to be the star attraction of the rebel LIV Golf tour, whose major shareholder is the Private Investment Fund, the sovereign wealth fund of Saudi Arabia.
As Mickelson walked past a corridor of fans toward the course, he was enveloped in applause. The reception was not as zealously enthusiastic as it was a year ago, when he won the PGA Championship to become the oldest major champion ever, but it was passionate and animated.
By the time Mickelson stepped onto the first tee, there were whoops and whistles that had Mickelson tipping his cap. When the applause would diminish slightly, Mickelson turned to his trademark gesture — a smile and a hearty thumbs-up — that would reignite the ovation.
The considerable majority of players who have remained loyal to the PGA Tour had privately wondered in recent days if the players now working for LIV Golf might hear booing at the Country Club. That did not occur. Not when Dustin Johnson, the top-ranked player to join the new league last week, teed off in the group before Mickelson. Johnson’s greeting was muted but still affectionate.
Earlier, on the practice range, any sense that there would be a bristling division between the LIV Golfaligned players and those still devoted to the PGA Tour evaporated as well.
Webb Simpson, the 2012 U.S. Open champion and a PGA Tour stalwart, approached Mickelson with a wide smile and offered a fist bump. They conversed easily for a few seconds. Hitting balls to the left of Mickelson was Shane Lowry, who would be playing in the same group Thursday. Lowry has been emphatic — insistent, really — that he will not join the rival tour. But Thursday he was also chatting pleasantly with Mickelson and the third member of their group, Louis Oosthuizen of South Africa, who has also joined the LIV Golf series. If the underpinnings of professional golf are indeed on the verge of being upended, as some have feared in recent days, it was not evident through the easy banter of this group, who have each won at least one major championship.
As Mickelson’s round unfolded, it was obvious his game, which has been unsteady for many months, had not improved. He bogeyed the first and third holes and barely recovered, shooting an 8over-par 78, which left him 12 strokes behind the firstround leader, Adam Hadwin of Canada. Mickelson’s fans groaned after his misses, clapped as he left the green and called out his name. One of those fans loudly encouraging Mickelson was William Sullivan of Woburn, Mass.
Asked if he was surprised, or disappointed, when Mickelson chose to play last week in the inaugural LIV Golf event near London, Sullivan shook his head and said: “Not really.”
Around the golf course Thursday, 12 groups were a mix of LIV Golf and PGA Tour players. One comprised Jon Rahm of Spain, the defending U.S. Open champion; Collin Morikawa, winner of the 2020 PGA Championship; and James Piot, the 2021 U.S. Amateur champion who played last week in the first LIV Golf tournament.
The group moved briskly and civilly around the Country Club layout, exhibiting all the usual courtesies that golfers do — remaining quiet when an opponent is over the ball, staying out of sight when others are putting, moving a ball mark if it is in someone’s line.
It looked like any other threesome in any other first round of a major championship.