#1 The Woods-Mediate Playoff

By John Hawkins
Illustrations By Dale Stephanos November 28, 2008

A butterscotch sun had the sky all to itself on the morning of June 16, rising over the coastal hills north of San Diego without a cloud in its presence. From a stretch of North Torrey Pines Road that runs along the Pacific Ocean, one could see the early light striking the water on a flat trajectory, topping the giant sea in a sublime orange sheen. It was a Monday with the perfect beginning, and for golf, the perfect end.

Modern history has not been polite to the 18-hole playoff, a tiebreaker format discontinued by three of the four major championships between 1967 and 1985. Rare is the dinosaur that grows old and even more unpopular. "We've had some real stinkers," says USGA executive director David Fay. "Competitively, it's valid, and it's fair to call it unique, which may be the most overused word in the English language."

Sometimes, things really are different. "Take two other players and put them out there," Fay adds. "We would have been lucky to get 2,500 people."

Instead, the atmosphere dials were turned up by 8 a.m. as thousands passed through security, the drum roll of anticipation heard throughout the Big Ballpark by the Pacific. Torrey Pines hadn't been on anybody's short list of potential sites when it was chosen to host the 2008 U.S. Open. In the six years since, the South course had been lengthened and redesigned by Rees Jones, but from an agronomic standpoint, it remained problematic, certainly not up to USGA specifications and far from the conditions presented at Oakmont or Shinnecock Hills.

You want unique? Southern California's first national championship in 60 years would be held on a public course with soft fairways and greens recently converted from bent grass to Poa annua. There wasn't much the PGA Tour could do about the squishy grounds when it played the Buick Invitational at Torrey Pines in mid-winter, but in the final week of spring, especially in a push-button climate, there could be no excuses.

"For months leading in, [the mentality] was, let's forget about trying to make it perfect and just try not to embarrass ourselves," admits Mike Davis, who was overseeing his third U.S. Open as senior director of rules and competitions.

It's funny how things work out. For all the times this tournament has been contested on premium layouts in pristine shape, few, if any, have produced the wall-to-wall drama or more unforgettable moments than the mutt. A lot of that had to do with the One-Legged Wonder, the human memory machine, but Tiger Woods had won 13 major titles before Torrey Pines, only one of which could rightly compare itself to the 108th U.S. Open.

That 2000 PGA was awfully good, but Woods didn't show up with a torn knee ligament, microfractures in the same leg and two months of competitive rust after surgery on the knee in April. "He had the MRI [May 31], and afterward, the doctor's explaining it all, but Tiger's not really paying attention," says swing coach Hank Haney. "He wasn't even looking at him, did not want to hear what he had to say, so the doctor starts talking to me. I'm like, 'Hey, Doc, it's not my knee.' "

Woods was advised to spend four weeks on crutches, then remain inactive for two weeks before beginning rehab. "Right after the doctor tells us this, that's when Tiger looked up," Haney adds. "He looks the guy straight in the eye and says, 'I'm playing in the U.S. Open, and I'm gonna win.' He bends over to put on his shoes, turns to me and says, 'Let's go, Hank. Let's go practice.' We knew people would be shocked when they found out what was wrong with him."

That 2000 PGA also had an oversize underdog, a guy who took Woods deep into a playoff before losing, a defeat that instantly would define his career in a positive sense. Bob May was every bit as tough at Valhalla as Rocco Mediate was at Torrey Pines, but May couldn't match Rocco's charisma or parlay a seize-the-moment mentality into a legitimate asset.

Mediate's willingness to connect with people during his rounds went a long way toward defining his popularity at Torrey Pines and beyond. In post-round interviews he birdied the Tiger Factor, speaking of Woods in glowing terms without compromising his chances of beating him. By week's end that opportunity had presented itself. The lunch-pail longshot was more than just glib, self-deprecating or direct. Rocco was bulletproof.