In The Eye Of The Beholder

By John Hawkins
Photo by Chris McGrath/Getty Images July 2, 2009

It is the dirtiest word in golf, a one-syllable indictment of a player's ability to handle pressure. To choke or not to choke? More than just a question, sentences built around the C-word can serve as accusations or stand as brave admissions. Curtis Strange once told me you're not really a golfer until you've choked, but let's not get carried away. Too much of a bad thing definitely isn't good.

Strange took it like a man at the 1995 Ryder Cup, after he bogeyed the final three holes and allowed Nick Faldo to steal a crucial point in America's painful-to-watch loss to Europe. Several U.S. players proved less than clutch down the stretch in their singles matches that afternoon, adding a chapter of dark drama to the event most likely to cause contraction in the windpipe.

The U.S. Open isn't far behind, however, with last month's final round at Bethpage offering the latest pile of evidence. A significant amount of post-tournament discussion focused on Phil Mickelson's sloppy finish, which short-circuited the heroic rally that immediately preceded it and left Lefty a runner-up for the fifth time at our national championship.

Did Mickelson choke? A lot of people wouldn't need to think twice about it. He bogeyed the 15th hole from the back fringe to fall out of the lead he shared with Lucas Glover, then failed to get up and down from a relatively harmless spot just short of the 17th green, which basically ended any chance of his forcing a playoff.

No assessment of Mickelson's performance can ignore the health issues involving his wife, Amy, who has since begun medical treatment for breast cancer, or the overwhelming vocal support he received all week from the New York fans. Both factors formed a powerful emotional backdrop that accompanied Mickelson from start to finish at a tournament full of stops and starts. In that context, the burden presented by the last four holes only becomes greater.

That doesn't mean he couldn't handle the heat, or that his most recent failure to claim a U.S. Open title was undone by nerves. I think Mickelson's problem down the stretch was a function of his competitive disposition. He is most comfortable when forcing the issue, when playing aggressive golf regardless of the situation, which is a tough way to win major championships, especially those decided late in the game.

A relevant example occurred on that par-4 15th. Mickelson got a bit unlucky when his superb second shot trickled through the green, leaving him a 30-footer with a pronounced right-to-left break. A difficult putt? Absolutely, which only made it more important for Philly Mick to leave his ball in as harmless a spot as possible, take his par and move on. Instead, his birdie attempt was left all the way, stopping four feet above the cup, meaning Mickelson would have to deal with a tricky downhiller on what was widely recognized as the toughest putting surface on the course.

In baseball parlance, it was the kind of mistake that doesn't show up in the box score. Mickelson's par attempt rolled three feet past the hole, which is basically where he should have been a stroke earlier. "I played for a lot less break than it [broke]," he would explain. "I just thought it was going to stop breaking, and it broke a little more."

Which is all the more reason to play to the high side of the hole, leave yourself an uphill putt and practice caution when caution begs to be heard. A five- or six-footer from below the hole is a lot easier than a four-footer on ice. As it turned out, Mickelson's momentum had been stifled, his rally over, and in final analysis, his faulty strategic process was to blame, not an inability to handle extreme pressure.