Separation Anxiety

After a dispiriting week in Augusta, Phil Mickelson faces a tough decision: leaving longtime friend and swing coach Rick Smith for Butch Harmon

Mickelson's long swing, part of victories in 2004 and '06, produced a mediocre T-24 last week.

By Jaime Diaz

Photo By Stephen Szurlej

April 13, 2007

After Phil Mickelson ended his Masters defense last Sunday with a closing 77 that marked his highest score in 58 official rounds at Augusta, his step stayed light.

He calmly recounted for the media how a shocking first-hole triple-bogey 7 took him out of contention and into an eventual tie for 24th, 10 strokes behind winner Zach Johnson. He happily accepted hugs from his assembled family and friends, and would smile broadly while slipping the green jacket on Johnson during the closing ceremony.

In no way did Mickelson betray the weight of one of the toughest decisions of his career—replacing his longtime swing instructor, Rick Smith, with Butch Harmon. Indeed, although it's become clear to close observers that Harmon will soon take over as Mickelson's main coach, the player himself denied that any change has been made.

"No, nothing has happened, everything's the same," said Mickelson before exiting the grounds. "Rick's still my guy, but I will keep having Butch check me now and then for 15 or 20 minutes at a time. That's where it stands."

It was Mickelson's attempt to have it both ways—delaying a public blow to a friend, while not precluding an impending transition. But the explanation conveniently ignored the fact Harmon and Smith have long had a frosty relationship, emanating mainly from Harmon's belief that Smith broke the instructor code when he helped Tiger Woods with his swing at the 1996 U.S. Open when Harmon was Woods' coach (Smith says he was simply responding to Woods' request to have a look at his action). Smith made it clear how he feels about Harmon's forays with Mickelson when he saw Harmon on the practice putting green at the Masters and said, sarcastically, "Hey, thanks for looking after my buddy for me."

Of course, no amount of aplomb or denial can reconcile the conflict that confronts a professional golfer when forced to choose between a personal relationship and what he believes is best for his game—particularly when that golfer has exhibited the kind of loyalty to his inner circle like Mickelson has to his.

Smith, short-game coach Dave Pelz, manager Steve Loy and caddie Jim Mackay have all worked for, and with, Mickelson for at least a decade. Smith is a partner with Mickelson in several off-course business ventures, and their wives are extremely close friends. But Harmon, who coached Greg Norman and later Woods on their separate ascents to the No. 1-ranking in the world, is eager to work with the left-hander and seems to possess the exact qualities Mickelson most needs, particularly a precise (and, most would say, correct) idea of how to improve his game, and a firm, direct style in delivering the message.

From the perspective of Mickelson the golfer, the choice is clear: In order to win the major championships that will give him the historical prominence he covets in the Age of Tiger, Mickelson must improve his swing. While Pelz has made the left-hander's short game more efficient and trainer Sean Cochran has made him more fit, Mickelson's ball-striking, under the guidance of Smith, has remained suspect. Even while winning three majors in three years beginning with the 2004 Masters, that ball-striking has too often been on the fritz, his extra-long backswing suspect under pressure. Mickelson's obsession with the whiz-bang of technology has produced some advantages—carrying two drivers, for example—but mostly it has masked the real issues of his technique. The former wunderkind is now 36, and clearly it's time to deal with root causes. With Smith, inertia has set in. With Harmon lies the promise of a breakthrough.

The issues have crystallized quickly in the last 12 months. After impressive victories at Atlanta and Augusta, Mickelson appeared on the verge of supplanting Woods as the top player in the game. Instead, he came back from a two-week break after winning the Masters with no feel for his golf swing and didn't have another good ball-striking tournament the rest of the year. Although he prepared intensely for the U.S. Open at Winged Foot, ultimately even magical scrambling couldn't make up for persistent erratic driving. His final, severely flared drive on the 72nd hole, and an even more lethal push with a 3-iron on his first recovery shot, produced a double bogey for perhaps the most heartbreaking one-stroke loss in the championship's history.