Rally Killer

END OF A REMARKABLE RUN: Without a win since the 2001 British Open, Duval was in the hunt until missing this five-foot par putt on the 71st hole.
Photo: Dom Furore

The last green he missed was the one that ended his run. A 4-iron at the 17th left Duval just short of the putting surface, where he faced a seemingly harmless chip from a lie better than the one Mickelson had dealt with a few yards away and a few minutes earlier. Duval's aggressive shot almost hit the flagstick, then scooted five feet past the cup. His par try was halfway down before fate spat it away.

"Lipped out twice on that hole today," he joked.

In his reinvented state, Duval might best be described as a part-time golfer and full-time father. He and his wife, Susie, had a full boat of kids with them at Bethpage, while Mickelson, the tour's ultimate family man, was there by his lonesome.

There's that irony thing again. "It will be a quiet ride home," said Steve Loy, Mickelson's longtime manager. But Loy thought the presence of Lefty's family would help cheer him up. "They'll go to Chuck E. Cheese's, and the kids will be all over him. Everything will be just fine."

Dealing with failure hasn't been as easy for Glover in his six years on the PGA Tour, and even he was surprised to end up with the trophy in his first time in contention at a major. "I hope I don't downgrade it or anything with my name on there," said Glover, now 18th in the World Ranking. "I'd never been there in a major and maybe that was motivation for me to prove to myself I belong. I played well under pressure, and I'm happy with myself."

Glover isn't a dance-in-the-end-zone type of guy, which was fitting, because this U.S. Open wasn't exactly a celebration of all things wonderful about pro golf or events that really matter. Mike Davis, the USGA's senior director of rules and competitions, estimated four inches of rain fell on Bethpage in the five days it took to play 72 holes.

All the precipitation didn't ruin the year's second major, but it came pretty close. Officially, there were three weather-related suspensions and two rounds that carried over a second day because of darkness. Things had fallen 24 hours behind schedule by the midway point, and if the 36-hole cut hadn't landed on the minimum number of 60 players, a Tuesday finish would have been a distinct possibility. There were 12 wet days in the two-week stretch leading into the tournament, then a biblical downpour that brought the opening round to a halt three hours and 15 minutes after the first drive was airborne.

You can blame it on the USGA's shameless Northeast bias, but the law of averages was a more logical culprit. This was the first time since 1983 that the final round of the U.S. Open didn't end on Sunday, but what made this particular weather pattern even more impressive was its insistence on making Tiger Woods' life miserable. Throughout the first half of his career, Woods perfected the art of landing on the sunny side of the draw at any major where weather became a factor.

Things began to change after the inaugural visit to Bethpage in 2002. Tiger's second U.S. Open title had been aided at least partially by his second-round tee time, which sent him out before the heavy showers that made it so tough on everyone -- most vocally Sergio Garcia -- who played that afternoon. You half-figured the golf gods might show up this time to collect their debt. What nobody could have figured was that Woods would actually pay it.

Of the 23 players at par or better after 36 holes, 18 came from the late-early side of the draw, including Glover, Mickelson, Duval and Barnes. Lee Westwood was the only guy from Tiger's half in the top 10, and though Woods would finish T-6, four strokes behind Glover at even-par 280, you can add this U.S. Open to the growing list of majors he let get away.