Did you hear the one of an unknown beating the world’s best player?
PEBBLE BEACH — There’s no way around it. Dustin Johnson, the world’s No. 1-ranked golfer, got his butt kicked Sunday by the Unknown Golfer.
When Johnson and Ted Potter Jr. were waiting on the first tee of the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am on a crisp and sunny morning, tied for the lead, two strokes up on the field, Potter probably should have asked Johnson, “So, how many strokes you giving me today?”
Let’s be real: Johnson, two-time winner here, should have had this tournament in the bag by about the second hole. Ted Potter Jr. didn’t get the memo. He was busy working his way around Pebble with the methodical
relentlessness of the man who mows the fairways. Which, incidentally, is what Ted Potter Sr. does for a living at a golf course back in Florida.
Steady Teddy, who learned golf from his course-maintenance dad, took on the challenges of a strong field and won by three strokes. More accurately, he seemed oblivious to those challenges, ignoring the pressure like he was walking the course alone on a practice round.
Johnson was chasing Pesky Potter all day. Could not catch him. Weird. Although you wouldn’t exactly say Johnson choked away this one.
Johnson certainly wouldn’t say that, although after Saturday’s round, Johnson mentioned that his father had just bowled a 300 game, and he said his own best-ever game was 292. You know what that means? Dustin Johnson bowled 11 strikes in a row, then on his last roll, he knocked down two pins. That’s like slapping a 5-foot putt into the water.
There are a few notable rounds in his past on which Johnson would like to have had mulligans, but he has pretty much put any choker label well behind him. Sunday, though, was a tough one to categorize. He hit some decent shots, just didn’t quite get it done. Lost the tournament to Ted. Potter. Junior.
Johnson didn’t beat himself up.
“All in all, still a good week,” Johnson said behind the 18th green. Tied for second, “I guess, is not terrible. Yeah, I’d like to (have) put a little bit more pressure on Ted.” Shrug. That’s part of how Johnson got to be No. 1 in the world. Not easily ruffled, not highly emotional. Spanish blow-top Jon Rahm walked off the 18th green, 10 strokes off the lead, with smoke coming out of his ears. Johnson sauntered off the course with no evident emotion. Hey, he played OK. Didn’t win. Gave it a good go. Eh. Get ’em next week.
“I knew even making the turn going into the back nine, I was right there, had a good chance,” Johnson said. “The bogey on 11 really cost me, when I felt like I hit a really good shot into 11, hit it 6 inches too far, it hung up in the rough.
“It was just one of those days where nothing went my way. It is what it is. Ted played well.”
Ted played the round of his 34-year life. He’d shot 62 the day before, but the way he held onto the lead Sunday, fighting off all comers like Peter Pan dueling one Captain Hook after another, was jawdroppingly spectacular.
We should have seen it coming on the first tee. Potter dressed for success. He wore the loudest shirt on the course, a neon tomato red. Apparently, this outwardly bland journeyman wasn’t in a mood to blend in Sunday. Dead-Red Ted wore the most distinctive Sunday shirt since the old days of Tiger Woods’ power-Sunday red shirts.
It should have been choke time for Potter. The $1.3 million winner’s check is probably a month’s jet-fuel for someone like Johnson, but life-changing for a slogger like Potter.
Also, win or lose, Johnson moves to the next stop, still No. 1 in the world and treated accordingly. For Potter, a win means tourney exemptions for at least a year, and better tee times and perks, and respect like he’s never had before.
The gulf between Johnson and Potter is monumental. Sunday will be seared in the memory of the 34-year-old minor-league-golf campaigner from Ocala, Fla. For Johnson, Sunday was probably forgotten by the time the sun set over Stillwater Cove.
“It was just kind of one of those days,” Johnson said. “I felt like all day I was in-between clubs, I was either trying to hit one hard or take something off one. Never really got in a rhythm, (the pace of play) was really slow.
“I feel like I’m swinging well, just didn’t end up with good results.”
As Johnson sauntered to his getaway car, Dead-Red Ted was being VIP-chauffeured to the winner’s news conference.