MONTREAL — They had a chance. Incredible as that seemed Thursday evening, improbable as it was as late as an hour before Saturday sunset, the Internationals had a chance to do something they’ve done just once in 30 years as the third day of the Presidents Cup was coming to a close in front of an increasingly spirited Canadian crowd. But as the sun ultimately disappeared over Royal Montreal it became apparent that fate cannot be willed into existence, and there is no invisible energy between crowd and players that can influence results.
The Internationals had a chance at victory, and to be fair they still do. But thanks to a 34-minute window that chance has turned slim.
After falling behind by two points, 8-6, at the conclusion of the morning session, the Internationals had a shot to tie things up in the afternoon, and perhaps even take the lead heading into Sunday singles. Taylor Pendrith and Adam Scott dispatched Brian Harman and Max Homa in the first foursomes match to cut the Internationals’ deficit to one. Corey Conners and Mackenzie Hughes were tied against Collin Morikawa and Sam Burns, and Si Woo and Tom Kim evened up against Xander Schauffele and Patrick Cantlay. In the caboose match, Scottie Scheffler seemed like he was out of gas and was having the damndest time with the putter again. You didn’t have to squint to see a leaderboard covered in yellow by night’s end, a sweep that could clear the stage for just the second win in this event’s three-decade history.
The fans, many of whom had been on property for 12-plus hours and clearly had spent some of that time enjoying adult libations, saw it too. They began hooting and hollering and acting like crowds do at hockey games. And given who they were showering that love on often returned the favor—with the Kims turning celebrations into interpretive dances and the Canadian duo of Conners and Hughes raising their arms to the heavens—it sure seemed like momentum belonged behind the Internationals’ shield. Indeed, given how the Americans seemed to visible grow weary of hearing unrepeatable things said about their games and their manhood and their family, it sure seemed like the U.S. was over this Presidents Cup turning rowdy.
But the rules of momentum do not apply in match play, especially in alternate shot. Rowdy crowds can be a factor, but not the factor. And whatever forces or powers of energies that exist are mercurial and do not genuflect to any alter besides their own.
It started at the end with Scheffler and Henley. The American pair was down 3 through six holes, and for a second you were forgiven for thinking Scheffler was doing his best to get Henley home in time for the Alabama-Georgia game. But the duo was square with six to play and took a 1-up lead after Scheffler nearly dunked his approach at the 14th. Sungjae Im proceeded to his tee shot in the water at the 15th; within two swings separated by seven minutes, a toss-up turned into a win for the Yanks, which they made official with a par at the 16th. Scheffler, who faced the brunt of the crowd’s catcalls, was emphatic when the final putt dropped, shoving Henely in delight with a demonstrativeness the stoic giant rarely reveals.
Ahead, Conners and Hughes had brought their battle to the 18th against Burns and Morikawa. But Hughes sprayed his tee shot and Conners’ approach was just short. With Morikawa safely on the green, Hughes needed a chip-in for a potential win and something to tap-in range at worst for the tie. Instead Hughes, one of the better short-game players in the world, flubbed his chip, the ball barely reaching the green from five yards away as Hughes collapsed, his hands on his knees and his hat lifted halfway up his forehead. The weight of his country and his team was palpable, and Hughes struggled to return upright knowing he couldn’t rid it off his shoulders. Conners could not clean up the mess; the Americans stole another point, with Morikawa adding a fist pump and slapping Burns in the chest for good measure.
The Kims. It had to be the Kims. Their display through three days in Montreal has been less of a golf performance and more of performative art, every putt and shot punctuated with pumped arms and primal screams and chest pounds. The fans knew it too, which is why they turned hostile over the final holes, yelling things like “Sorry you have to play with Patrick, X!” and “Remember you’re not getting paid for this!” The scene culminated in Si Woo sinking a flop shot at the 16th, and when his ball disappeared Kim proceeded to run around the green with his hands clapped in a sleeping pose, which would have made sense if the shot had won the match instead of what it did, which was tie it. That was the score over the next 20 minutes after the teams exchanged pars on 17 and reached the 18th green, both Cantlay and Si Woo with birdie tries at their feet.
The Americans went first and Cantlay proved he remains ice cold, dropping a 20-footer with an ease you’re not supposed to have at a moment like that. Si Woo could not repeat his feats at the 16th, his birdie putt not coming close, forced to watch in dazed resignation as many of the American caddies and players and family waved their hats in Cantlay’s direction as a nod to his Ryder Cup heroics.
Worse for Si Woo, just two holes after his “night-night” celebration, a number of Americans repeated the move to each other and towards the crowd, letting everyone know it was them—not Si Woo—who turned the lights out. What could have been a tie, what could have been an International lead just 34 minutes before, was now 11 to 7, Americans.
It was emotional, it was memorable, it was tiring. It was everything the Presidents Cup hopes to be. One problem: Saturday has essentially made Sunday irrelevant, the Americans needing just four-and-a-half points out of 12 to close this baby out.
Even playing in foreign territory the advantage belongs to the Americans, as singles rewards frontline firepower and tests a team’s depth. It’s not to say a miracle can’t happen. Friday showed this team has fortitude and can’t be counted out. But unless the tournament moves to Medinah and Rory McIlroy discovers he has Canadian citizenship, that prospect is highly unlikely.
This is not the Internationals fault. They are the underdogs, and bouncing back after a disastrous 5-0 sweep was an exercise in gumption and grit. To even have the opportunity that they did on Saturday evening was something special. But that’s the problem with moments; sometimes they’re gone before you realize they were even there.