ONE GOOD SHOT IN A ROW

It took a while for MAX HOMA to get his groove on. For years, he was up against it: missed cuts, flagging confidence, Korn Ferry Tour exile. Then, a funny thing happened. He found a philosophy and a grit more winning than his hilarious Twitter feed.

-  DYLAN DETHIER

"For a while, with the social media stuff, people were all like, 'Man, I'd love to have a beer with that guy,"" he says. "Well, I don't know if you really would."

We're not getting beers, but we are having lunch at Whisper Rock, a Scottsdale, Ariz., oasis frequented by the area's A-listers, from pro athletes (think Michael Phelps) to pro golfers (think Jon Rahm) to pro caddies (think Jim "Bones" Mackay), plus a slate of golf-mad local businessmen with both the financial wherewithal and connections to belong. There are two 18-hole courses at Whisper Rock: the Upper, designed by Tom Fazio, and the Lower, designed by Phil Mickelson. There's also an egg-roll salad, Homa's favorite, that has just been placed in front of him. It looks delicious.

I'm curious how Homa-who grew up in Los Angeles County, went to his hometown Valencia High School, attended Cal-Berkeley and still bleeds Dodger Blue-likes living here. He admits that he still sees himself as a Californian, but Homa and his wife, Lacey, have been in Scottsdale for four years. They have roots here now too: They welcomed their first child, Cam, just a couple weeks before our mid-November lunch. So why Scottsdale? By way of explanation, he tells the story of his first Arizona haircut.

"The lady asked what I do for work," he says.

"I'm a professional golfer," he said, expecting follow-ups.

"Oh, man," she said. "Another one."

At lunch, Homa grins. "It doesn't make you cool or special to play golf here," he says. "That's what I like about it." 

Away from the golf course, normalcy is Homa's instinct.