In It For The Long Haul
The USGA's full-bore (some say boring) method to break ties isn't entirely popular, but don't expect it to change anytime soon
Those fascinated by the tradition of golf, the fact that amid so much change some things do remain the same, loved the Tiger Woods-Rocco Mediate playoff at the 2008 U.S. Open. It wasn't just because of the superstar-everyman dynamic, the ebb and flow of the play and the clutch shots by both men, or that Woods won despite a left leg more seriously injured than most people were aware. Golf's three other Grand Slam events break ties more swiftly, but after 72 holes Woods and Mediate had to (try to) sleep on it and come back the next day to settle things with another full round, the same way U.S. Open deadlocks have been broken since Willie Anderson defeated Alex Smith in 1901.
The Woods-Mediate playoff, which Woods won with a par on the 19th hole to end a dramatic day that riveted golf fans as few others have, was the 33rd in 108 U.S. Opens. By going to an extra day, eschewing sudden death or a few holes of aggregate overtime long since adopted by the other major championships, the U.S. Open's enduring format is a five-course meal in microwaveable burrito culture.
It is a stipulation that spans more than a century, linking the hickory, steel and graphite eras, icons from Bobby Jones to Ben Hogan to Jack Nicklaus, journeymen from Jacky Cupit to Lou Graham to Mike Donald. A full round (or more) was magical for Francis Ouimet in 1913, heartbreaking for Arnold Palmer (1962, 1963 and 1966), and overwhelming for Al Espinosa, who lost to Jones by 23 strokes in 1929 in one of the several years a 36-hole playoff was held at the U.S. Open.
The person with the best perspective on playoff formats may be Greg Norman, the only golfer to have lost major championships in every playoff style—18 holes, 1984 U.S. Open; sudden death, 1987 Masters and 1993 PGA Championship; multiple-hole aggregate, 1989 British Open—and he believes the U.S. Open has it right. "Any major championship should have an 18-hole playoff," says Norman. "Your whole tournament is based on 18-hole rounds. If you tie somebody, why not make the playoff 18 holes?"
U.S. Open playoffs have often been up-and-down affairs, going back to the first one at Myopia Hunt Club in 1901. Smith took the first lead and had a five-shot advantage through 13 holes but finished poorly and was overtaken by Anderson, whose 85 was good enough for the first of his four national titles after Smith missed a four-footer on No. 18 to force another 18 holes.
Of the nearly three dozen playoffs, the eventual winner assumed the lead first 16 times, meaning an early advantage is hardly a predictor of ultimate success. In four of the 10 best U.S. Open playoffs of all time (see ranking, page 42), Espinosa (1929), Sam Snead (1947), Palmer (1966) and Nicklaus (1971) all got out in front first but ended up losing. So did players ranging from Jones (1925) to Byron Nelson (1946) to Loren Roberts (1994). "My mind was free from care for defeat meant no loss of prestige," Ouimet later wrote of the 72 he shot to record a comfortable victory over British stars Harry Vardon and Ted Ray even though Vardon took an early lead.
Casper consoled Palmer after handing him his third Open playoff loss.
Ouimet's five-stroke triumph is the third-largest margin in 18-hole U.S. Open playoffs, after Fuzzy Zoeller's eight-shot bulge (67-75) over Norman in 1984 and Dick Mayer's seven-shot win over Dr. Cary Middlecoff in 1957. Starting with Hogan's victory over Lloyd Mangrum and George Fazio at Merion GC in 1950, playoff winners have averaged 70.75, the losers 74.10. "Don't write too much nasty stuff about us," winner Ernie Els told reporters after his 20-hole decision over Roberts and Colin Montgomerie at Oakmont in 1994, which he began by playing the first two holes four over.
The relatively wide margins and over-par scores by the losers have been influenced by several things, including courses that generally got tougher as the week went on, as the rough grew and greens got harder and faster. The 1991 U.S. Open at Hazeltine National, where Payne Stewart beat Scott Simpson, 75-77, was a prime example. "It got breezy, plus it just dried out so much more than it was in the first 72 holes," says Simpson. "Even Sunday, the ball was holding on the greens. It was a lot different. On the second playoff hole I remember hitting a 9-iron that landed by the pin and went 40 feet by. I was thinking, 'Oh my gosh, this is different.' "
