Back At A Classic

What’s next at winged foot?

- David Owen

In JUNE 2006, my wife and I flew west with our kids for what we figured would be our last big family vacation. I was bummed that I’d be missing the final round of the U.S. Open, at Winged Foot, but when we boarded the plane I discovered that I could watch it on my seat-back TV. The leaders hadn’t even teed off. Six hours later, Phil Mickelson arrived at the 18th hole with a one-stroke lead—and just at that moment our plane descended below 10,000 feet and the broadcast cut out. Good for Phil, I thought. He’s finally got his Open. The next morning, in our hotel room, I turned on Golf Channel to see how he’d wrapped things up—but the guy holding the trophy wasn’t him; it was some Australian kid. My first thought was that JetBlue had been showing a replay of an earlier round and that, like an idiot, I hadn’t caught on. But then I saw, on tape, how Mickelson had self-destructed: He sliced his final drive into a corporate tent to the left of the 18th fairway, then hit a tree, a greenside bunker, an elementary school, a fire hydrant, a UPS truck, a cow, I don’t remember what all.