Shinnecock Hills is one of my favorite places in the world, and unquestionably my favorite golf course I’ve played more than once. One of my college golf teammates was a member there, and if I could relive one 48-hour period of my life, I would choose the weekend I spent playing 72 holes at Shinnecock. Fully 25 years later, I can still transport myself to specific locations on and within many of its fairways, bunkers and greens and precisely recall what I saw and felt there, and my untrammeled delight at being there. Proximity to true greatness, in any form, amplifies your senses and expands your consciousness.
Overexposure to greatness, however, can chill this effect. We see this in critics who can denigrate acknowledged masterpieces of art, theater and music, and in foodies who learn to find fault in Michelin star-worthy cooking. And at Shinnecock during the 118th US Open, several villains who ought to know better nearly managed to befoul the course and the championship before the greatness of both reasserted itself on a compelling Sunday.
I feel for the USGA sometimes. Golf’s ultimate cattle-herder tries to thoroughly examine the best golfers in the world, always creeping as close to the edge of fairness as possible. But the US Open for the USGA is like The Price Is Right: if you go over that edge, even by only one dollar or one stimpmeter inch, you lose. After banking on winds that never came to Erin Hills last year and seeing the sanctity of par endlessly violated, the USGA didn’t account for the unexpectedly strong breezes that overly dried out Shinnecock’s Saturday surfaces; the splotchy aesthetic of half-dead poa annua greens would make any course feel body conscious, and several hole locations did become borderline farcical.
More farcical still, however, were the reactions of many players and pundits to this. Sky Sports’ UK commentary team attacked the Saturday course setup with such unrelenting fury, I had to remind myself I was watching golf and not listening to Fox News pontificate about Hillary Clinton. The delicate snowflakes who teed off on Saturday afternoon – typically spoiled by easy venues and technology that helps them hit the ball much further and spin it far more than even great golfers should be able to – mostly failed to adjust to the conditions and then complained like trust fund babies having their allowances docked. (How about this, guys: maybe play to the center of a few greens, even after wayward approach shots when necessary, instead of always attacking the pin?)
And then there’s Phil Mickelson. When I did the most regrettable thing I’ve ever done on a golf course – accidentally taking a chunk of turf out of a green during a tournament when trying to knock my ball away from a hole in anger – I immediately withdrew from the event and walked back to the clubhouse, making whatever amends I could by personally apologizing to every group I encountered and to the club professional and secretary. But after Mickelson chased down his wayward putt on the 13th hole on Saturday and hit his moving ball back at the hole like a three-year-old playing crazy golf, he remained defiant and combative, and his only apology was to anyone offended at his taking advantage of the rulebook. The USGA chickened out, citing a technicality to not disqualify him, but Mickelson treating a Shinnecock green like professional soccer divas treat a penalty area stains both his character and his legacy to the game.
Despite all of this, and the many rowdy New Yorkers behaving as though seated in Ryder Cup grandstands (or possibly Yankee
Stadium), the majesty of Shinnecock Hills could not be denied. Brooks Koepka’s closing 68 blended great putting, stunning iron play and nerveless scrambling to deservedly make him the first man
to defend any major title since Padraig Harrington won the 2008 Open at Royal Birkdale. Tommy Fleetwood’s 63 may have been the best Sunday round in major championship history that did not lead to
victory. Everyone loved Shinnecock’s Sunday setup, even while acknowledging the USGA had overreacted to Saturday. And while the tournament wasn’t perfect, in the end it turned out to be pretty
great. Shinnecock Hills deserved nothing less.