Saturday, June 19, 2004
Daily Herald
Mickelson, Woods have switched roles
By Tim Dahlberg AP Sports Columnist
Posted Saturday, June 19, 2004
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. - Phil Mickelson finally listened. Maybe it's time Tiger Woods did, too.
What was evident at the Masters came into even sharper focus on a steamy Friday at Shinnecock Hills Country Club, where the new Phil Mickelson took the halfway lead in the U.S. Open by playing 21 holes while looking a lot like the old Tiger Woods.
Woods, meanwhile, was hitting wild shots out of the rough, missing short putts and looking, well, a lot like the old Phil Mickelson.
When he was finished early Friday evening, Woods patiently explained as he has so often in recent months that he was really close, and actually he was. Instead of spraying it to all sides of the course, he had his misses down to one direction.
"The good thing is I know where I'm missing it," said Woods, as optimistic as ever.
Mickelson was long gone by then, probably having some ice cream with the family or maybe doing some early handicapping on the upcoming NFL season.
He left Shinnecock with a wide grin on his face, giddy expectations for the weekend and a growing confidence that finally, at age 34, he has it all figured out.
"I can't wait for the upcoming majors now because I feel like I'm on to something to play well in the big tournaments," Mickelson said.
That something eluded Lefty for 42 major championships, baffling both him and those who sensed he was destined for greatness ever since winning a PGA tournament while still a junior in college.
A different Phil approached each major, from the one who wanted it so badly he jabbed at 3-footers to the one who pretended he didn't care when he hit it in the woods.
One thing was for sure, though. He wasn't going to let anyone tell him how to play the game. Mickelson was determined to pull out the driver and bomb it, then slash his way to the green the rest of his career.
"I won't ever change. Not tomorrow, not Sunday or at Augusta or the U.S. Open or any tournament," Mickelson vowed two years ago after being asked about another self-induced implosion. "I may never win a major that way, but it doesn't matter to me. That's how I play my best golf."
Actually, it did matter to him. It mattered more than Mickelson would ever admit.
It mattered so much that he swallowed his pride and turned for help after a disastrous season last year, allowing instructor Rick Smith to help him fashion a cut shot to keep the ball in the fairway off the tee. He also began relentlessly practicing his short game, making 100 3-footers in a row before quitting every day.
The changes got him over a hump that once seemed insurmountable, and he caught Ernie Els on the back nine to win the Masters.
On a late April afternoon in Augusta, he gleefully jumped in the air, then hugged everyone around before picking up his daughter and giving America a moment to remember him by.
"Daddy won!" he told 4-year-old Amanda Mickelson. "Can you believe it?"
It seemed Mickelson barely could. He slept in his new green jacket that night, then made a round of appearances on late night talk shows to share his new fortune.
He arrived this week at Shinnecock Hills with the confidence of someone who knows he can win, and has proven he can win. He made only 1 bogey in two rounds, and on Friday he played nearly flawlessly on his way to a 6-under 66 that left hi•tied for the lead with Shigeki Maruyama.
The former "best player to never win a major" has now shot in the 60s in his last five major championship rounds.
"I feel as though I'm not having any surprises," Mickelson said. "I know that if I hit it over here, I'm OK; if I hit it over here, I don't have a chance, and so forth. And that has given me a lot of confidence playing the course."
While Mickelson oozes confidence, Woods keeps searching for some. After flirting with the cut for much of the day, he righted himself with a strong back nine Friday, finishing with a par save on the final hole for a 69 that for any player without his short game would have been a lot worse.
Woods' game isn't the only thing that seems fickle these days. The fans who used to roar with every wondrous shot are now firmly attached to the Mickelson bandwagon, something that would have been unthinkable only a year or two ago.
Early Thursday night a group of 50 or so autograph seekers ran after Mickelson as he strode out of the fog like a larger-than-life figure, wearing the half grin that always seems to be on his face. On his final hole Friday, the crowd rose as one in tribute as he approached the 18th green.
Woods clings to the idea that he will do things his way, which means he won't go back to Butch Harmon, who modeled the swing that won seven of 11 majors in one stretch. He keeps hitting wayward shots, but scoffs at the television analysts who like to dissect his swing and tell him what's wrong.
Still, he hasn't won a major since the Open at Bethpage two years ago, and he goes into the weekend seven shots behind Mickelson.
Maybe he should look at the leaderboard and understand that the tables have been turned mostly because Mickelson wasn't afraid to take some advice.
Mickelson, Woods have switched roles
By Tim Dahlberg AP Sports Columnist
Posted Saturday, June 19, 2004
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. - Phil Mickelson finally listened. Maybe it's time Tiger Woods did, too.
What was evident at the Masters came into even sharper focus on a steamy Friday at Shinnecock Hills Country Club, where the new Phil Mickelson took the halfway lead in the U.S. Open by playing 21 holes while looking a lot like the old Tiger Woods.
Woods, meanwhile, was hitting wild shots out of the rough, missing short putts and looking, well, a lot like the old Phil Mickelson.
When he was finished early Friday evening, Woods patiently explained as he has so often in recent months that he was really close, and actually he was. Instead of spraying it to all sides of the course, he had his misses down to one direction.
"The good thing is I know where I'm missing it," said Woods, as optimistic as ever.
Mickelson was long gone by then, probably having some ice cream with the family or maybe doing some early handicapping on the upcoming NFL season.
He left Shinnecock with a wide grin on his face, giddy expectations for the weekend and a growing confidence that finally, at age 34, he has it all figured out.
"I can't wait for the upcoming majors now because I feel like I'm on to something to play well in the big tournaments," Mickelson said.
That something eluded Lefty for 42 major championships, baffling both him and those who sensed he was destined for greatness ever since winning a PGA tournament while still a junior in college.
A different Phil approached each major, from the one who wanted it so badly he jabbed at 3-footers to the one who pretended he didn't care when he hit it in the woods.
One thing was for sure, though. He wasn't going to let anyone tell him how to play the game. Mickelson was determined to pull out the driver and bomb it, then slash his way to the green the rest of his career.
"I won't ever change. Not tomorrow, not Sunday or at Augusta or the U.S. Open or any tournament," Mickelson vowed two years ago after being asked about another self-induced implosion. "I may never win a major that way, but it doesn't matter to me. That's how I play my best golf."
Actually, it did matter to him. It mattered more than Mickelson would ever admit.
It mattered so much that he swallowed his pride and turned for help after a disastrous season last year, allowing instructor Rick Smith to help him fashion a cut shot to keep the ball in the fairway off the tee. He also began relentlessly practicing his short game, making 100 3-footers in a row before quitting every day.
The changes got him over a hump that once seemed insurmountable, and he caught Ernie Els on the back nine to win the Masters.
On a late April afternoon in Augusta, he gleefully jumped in the air, then hugged everyone around before picking up his daughter and giving America a moment to remember him by.
"Daddy won!" he told 4-year-old Amanda Mickelson. "Can you believe it?"
It seemed Mickelson barely could. He slept in his new green jacket that night, then made a round of appearances on late night talk shows to share his new fortune.
He arrived this week at Shinnecock Hills with the confidence of someone who knows he can win, and has proven he can win. He made only 1 bogey in two rounds, and on Friday he played nearly flawlessly on his way to a 6-under 66 that left hi•tied for the lead with Shigeki Maruyama.
The former "best player to never win a major" has now shot in the 60s in his last five major championship rounds.
"I feel as though I'm not having any surprises," Mickelson said. "I know that if I hit it over here, I'm OK; if I hit it over here, I don't have a chance, and so forth. And that has given me a lot of confidence playing the course."
While Mickelson oozes confidence, Woods keeps searching for some. After flirting with the cut for much of the day, he righted himself with a strong back nine Friday, finishing with a par save on the final hole for a 69 that for any player without his short game would have been a lot worse.
Woods' game isn't the only thing that seems fickle these days. The fans who used to roar with every wondrous shot are now firmly attached to the Mickelson bandwagon, something that would have been unthinkable only a year or two ago.
Early Thursday night a group of 50 or so autograph seekers ran after Mickelson as he strode out of the fog like a larger-than-life figure, wearing the half grin that always seems to be on his face. On his final hole Friday, the crowd rose as one in tribute as he approached the 18th green.
Woods clings to the idea that he will do things his way, which means he won't go back to Butch Harmon, who modeled the swing that won seven of 11 majors in one stretch. He keeps hitting wayward shots, but scoffs at the television analysts who like to dissect his swing and tell him what's wrong.
Still, he hasn't won a major since the Open at Bethpage two years ago, and he goes into the weekend seven shots behind Mickelson.
Maybe he should look at the leaderboard and understand that the tables have been turned mostly because Mickelson wasn't afraid to take some advice.
