On Whistling Straits and Dustin Johnson

I predicted this would happen. Well, not exactly this. But back in January I wrote ...

Someone (perhaps [Padraig] Harrington) will blow a final-round chance to win the PGA Championship by posting a big number on the brutal 18th at Whistling Straits.

I certainly didn't predict that it would be because he grounded his club in a bunker that he didn't think was a bunker to incur a two-stroke penalty to miss a three-way playoff after missing a seven-foot putt that he thought at the time was to win the championship! Unbelievable. (As far as  Harrington is concerned, I was a little bit right: He posted a double-bogey 6 in the second round to miss the cut by a stroke.)

     After reflecting on the tournament for a few days, the one overriding reaction I have is a certain sadness that Whistling Straits is getting beat up because of what happened. Alan Shipnuk, for instance, wrote the following in his "Hot List" at golf.com (Whistling Straits was #4 in the "Not" column):

All the flaws of this monument to artifice and excess were revealed on Sunday. If the best players in the world can't birdie a hole, then it can't be very good. The bevy of contenders combined to make exactly one birdie on 17 and 18, the latter of which might be the worst finishing hole in golf. And it's fitting the tournament was tainted by the contrived faux-bunkers which serve no purpose other than to look good on TV. On the to-do list before '15: 1) blow up 18 and start over, 2) fill in, oh, 400 or so useless bunkers, 3) create some safe, smooth walkways for fans, as dozens were injured on the extreme terrain.

A couple of things ... are the blossoming fruit trees at Augusta National "useless"? I know it's not exactly the same thing. But many, many of those trees never come into play and are certainly there only for "cosmetic" reasons. In fact, they are essential to the aesthetic of The Masters. Same with the bunkers at Whistling Straits. The course wouldn't be the same without them. It wouldn't play any different if you filled in 400 of them, but the course would lose much of it's "wow" factor. And what's wrong with wanting the course to look good on TV? Not to mention give on-site spectators something to be amazed by.
     I would agree that the 18th needs a little more tweaking. But I have mixed feelings about making it more walkable for spectators. Some improved pathways might be a good idea, but I wouldn't want them to come at the expense of "extreme terrain," which again is a big part of the course's essence.

     As far as being a monument to "artifice and excess," let's focus on the excess, and again make a comparison with Augusta. Other criticism I've read is that Herb Kohler, the course's owner and primary visionary, is an ego maniac who just wanted to have a visually spectacular course unlike any other in the world with more bunkers than you could imagine. I say, "so what?"

     The complaint is that Whistling Straits was absurdly expensively to build and is absurdly expensive to play and maintain. If he wants to spend the money to build it, and people want to spend $350 or so to play it, I say more power to 'em. The course is truly one-of-a-kind, the kind of experience you go home and tell your friends about. Should every golf course take this approach? Of course not. But this course is a wonder, completely surreal. Not the kind of course you'd want to play on a regular basis, but the kind of course you put on your bucket list.

     I have no idea how the course does financially. For all I know it may be bleeding Herb Kohler dry. But if that's what he wants to do with his fortune, that's his choice.

"Hazards" vs. "waste bunkers."  I was there on Friday and spent an amazing day with the Golden Bear Cub, 8, along with reader RobT and his son "Big Nate," who recently turned 9. When we decided to take the boys, I resigned myself to the idea that we might spend only a few hours there before the boys got sick of it, but I am still astonished that we there for a full 10 hours – almost the entire time that golf was being played that day, thanks to the fog delay in the morning. And the only complaints we got all day were that we didn't get to see Tiger Woods (who didn't tee off until 5:45 p.m. and only played six holes) and, even more catostrophic, that by the time we walked back to the car the little parking lot shuttle carts had shut down for the day. ("But Dad, you PROMISED, that we'd get to take a shuttle back to the car!!!!!!" "No, son, I said we'd take one if we could.")

     But I digress. The big reason we were able to keep the boys engaged so long is that the extreme terrain, including the useless bunkers, provided a welcome diversion when they grew bored at times with the golf. They climbed hills, jumped in and out of sand traps, had races, and, on one occasion, chased one another with "sand bombs" (OK, it was my son chasing Big Nate, an activity I quickly put a stop to). Providing entertainment for the kids was certainly not Pete Dye's intention with the course design, but the extreme terrain certainly added to the richness of our experience that day. It was a heck of a lot of fun.

     And as we traversed the course and watched the kids cavort, we noticed all the out of play bunkers and wondered if they would be considered "waster bunkers." We came to the conclusion that yes, they probably were. Because some of them had grass and weeds growing in them, and many of them were trampled nearly beyond recognition. Some were in such odd spots that we speculated that certainly no one would ever hit into them! ("I don't know, I'll bet Keith could find this one," Rob speculated. (Sorry, Keith. Rob said it, not me.))

     But as the world now knows, every bit of sand on Whistling Straits was to be considered a "hazard," and played according to the rules so governing it. A local rules accommodation was made, however, for removing loose stones from the bunkers. I nodded when I read this later, as I had noticed that some of the sand in the bunkers looked a little rocky. All the more natural, I suppose.

Which leads us now to "the big question." That is, was Johnson done an injustice? After much consideration, I have to say "no," unequivocably. Here's why ...

     The biggest thing for me is simply that the players were informed beforehand, in the clearest possible terms, that all the bunkers would be played as hazards, no matter their condition. Johnson admitted that he didn't read the rules sheet – though he also said he was aware of the rule, but simply didn't recognize his lie as having been in a bunker. He thought it was just a bare spot worn down by the crowd. So the question then becomes, should he have recognized it as a bunker?

     The biggest outrage seems to be coming from players and others who think it's ridiculous that the crowd would be allowed to stand in a bunker. How could he know it's a bunker when all those people are there? And there were no rakes, why would he think it might be a bunker? Again, the whole bunker situation should have been top of mind for the players. Much of the talk about the course all week was about the sheer number of them. The fact that it never occurred to Johnson that he might be in one smacks of mental laziness. Can you imagine Tiger or Jack ever making such a mistake?

     The whole point of major championships is that it's supposed to be a mental challenge as well as a physical one – perhaps even more so. Many golfers have the game to win a major, but far fewer have the mental fortitude to actually do it. As Nicklaus once said, he always thought he had a better chance to win majors than regular tournaments because at least half the field is essentially eliminated before they even tee it up.

     Then there's the argument that the walking rules official should have alerted Johnson that he was, in fact, in a bunker. Frankly, I don't like this argument at all. Before this all happened, it never would have occurred to me that a rules official would ever proactively remind a player about a rule. In fact, it seems to me that this ought to be forbidden. According to the rules of golf as I understand them, only a caddy may assist a player in any way during the course of play. No coaching is allowed, and players aren't even allowed to ask or tell each other what club they hit on a given shot. Why would a rules official be allowed to assist a player in such a way? The rules of golf being as complex as they are, I'm all for having an official on-hand to clarify and interpret the rules, but only at the player's request.

     If rules officials are allowed, or even expected, to remind players of rules in certain situations, where does it begin and end? It brings a lot of outside judgment into play, and could certainly create a situation where differing styles and tendencies among rules officials could potentially give one player an advantage over another.

     Over at Free Drop, a blog by USGA rules official John Vander Borght, in a post titled "Should [PGA official] David Price have said something?", John writes that "Decision 34-2/3 tells us that a referee has no obligation to warn a player and prevent a breach, but there is no problem with him doing so as long as he does it for all players." Again, this just reinforces what I think. If one referee does it for "all players," and another chooses not to do it for any, that creates a potentially uneven playing field.

     There's also the argument that the marshals did a lousy job getting the crowd out of the way, and that if they had cleared a wider space Johnson might have been able to recognize it as a bunker. Again, I say, "so what?" I will grant that it looks like the crowd control could have been better, but this is just one of the "hazards" of playing the 72nd hole in a major tournament.

     Also lost in this discussion is that Johnson got a tremendous break with his lie. If he had found himself in a deep footprint in the bunker and not allowed relief, I would likely be a little more sympathetic. According to the TV announcers, Johnson hit his drive some 40 yards to the right of where he was aiming. He was way outside the limits of where he could have been expected to have a reasonable lie. If it weren't for the crowds, he might have been in knee-deep fescue. Or if he had hit into a "properly maintained" bunker, he might have found himself plugged behind a deep lip. Fact is, he got a huge break, a lie he didn't really "deserve," and failed to take advantage by committing a huge mental blunder.

     It's also interesting to note that announcer Jim Nantz recognized Johnson as being in a bunker and identified it as such on the air (hat tip: Free Drop):

And if you watch the video above, and look where Johnson's ball is, it's hard to imagine that it didn't even occur to him that he might be in a bunker. Again, a mental error of monumental proportions.

I mentioned Nicklaus above, in the context of it being hard to imagine him ever making such a mental blunder. But the fact is that a young Nicklaus did once screw up in a major, in a way that may have ultimately cost him a chance at the title. In the famous 1960 U.S. Open at Cherry Hills, Nicklaus, then a 20-year-old amateur, was paired with the legandary and intimidating Ben Hogan for the final two rounds. Late in the final round, Nicklaus found a ball mark between his ball and the cup on a short putt. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to fix it (he was) and was too afraid, in Hogan's presence, to ask him or anyone else if he was allowed. He missed the putt, and it rattled him enough that he fell apart a little bit after that.

     Johnson is young, just 26 – which is very young to have contended so seriously in two majors in the same year. Everyone marveled how he bounced back from his final-round collapse at Pebble Beach in June. And Johnson himself says he's already moved on from his crushing loss at Whistling Straits. And that's great. A demeanor like his can be a great help in playing great golf. But you also have to wonder if his laid-back style – some would call it "lack of intensity" – will hinder him in clutch situations.

     The greats of the game are at their mentally sharpest in clutch moments. So far, Johnson has not demonstrated this trait. He'll need to if wants to make the leap from being a highly-talented young player who's won a few times to one of the elite players in the game.

     He has the talent. Only time will tell whether his major experiences this year will make him or break him.


UPDATE: Regarding crzsabas's comment below, please enjoy this word from the e-Trade Baby (a.k.a. "Nigel"?) himself:

UPDATE 2: Here is a good article at golfdigest.com talking with David Price, the PGA rules official, about what happened at 18.

A Caddie's Perspective

During the Father's Day blowout at the House of Whiffle that kept me from fully engaging in the final round of the 2010 U.S. Open, I had an interesting discussion with my sister-in-law. Though she's not a golfer, she was curious about the events unfolding on the TV in the kitchen (where I was in charge of the food preparation). In particular, she was asking about the role of the caddie: "Do the players have their own regular caddies, or do they have different ones every week?" Most full-time touring professionals have their own caddies who travel with them, I explained. Though they sometimes change from time to time.

     "Do they tell them which club to use?" Not exactly, but they do usually provide input. And certainly the yardages. A lot of it depends on the player, and how much he expects from the caddie, and what kind of a relationship the two of them have.

     "Is the caddie like a coach?" Well, a little bit, sometimes. They won't typically give the player advice on their swing, but they often help them read the green and make strategy decisions. More than anything – again, depending on the player – they're like an on-course sports psychologist. At least the good ones are.

     After the tournament, a couple of caddies got some extra attention in the press: Steve Williams, because of how Tiger Woods seemed to blame him, at least in part, for a couple of poor decisions made during Sunday's disappointing final round; and Bobby Brown (no, not that Bobby Brown), Dustin Johnson's caddie. Brown's role was notable because he had previously spent three years as a full-time caddie at Pebble Beach – and because Johnson had won the two previous AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am titles. Certainly, it seemed their combined experience at the famous course would help Johnson carry the day on Sunday.

     But, as we all now know, it was not to be. Johnson, who began the day with a three-shot lead, shot a disastrous 82 to finish in a tie for 8th. (Image: Johnson and Brown embrace after Johnson won the 2010 AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am . Stuart Franklin/Getty Images, via Seattle Times.)

We don't know what Williams thinks about Tiger's comments or his final round (at least not yet, as far as I know). Tiger's long-time looper would likely go the way of Fluff Cowan if he spoke out. But we do know what Brown thinks, thanks to an insightful interview by Kevin Merfeld of the Monterey Herald. Here's just a taste, where Brown addresses the left-handed chip Johnson attempted from the deep greenside fescue on the second hole (where Johnson scored a triple bogey 7):

"I was a little bit shocked to see him go at that thing left-handed, because the first thing I thought he was going to do was take an unplayable, or chip it back into the bunker," Brown said. "It all happened so fast. I was about ready to say something, and he kind of told me to get out of the way and said, 'I got this.' At that point, you kind of get out of the way. Maybe next time I won't get out of the way. I'm not sure." [Hat tip: golf.com]

And there's the rub. How hard should a caddie push when he thinks his golfer is making a bad decision? If Jim "Bones" McCay had gotten his way at Augusta earlier this year, Phil Mickelson would have laid up on that now-famous 6-iron from the between the trees on 13. But Bones has been with Phil ever since he turned pro in 1992, and he knows by now just how hard to push – and when to step back and say, "OK, you're the boss, now give it a good rip!"

     In the Golf Channel documentary "Caddy for Life" (based on the book by John Feinstein), Tom Watson tells of a time when his long-time caddie Bruce Edwards cursed him out in the middle of the round. It seems a discouraged Watson was dithering about whether to go for it or lay up on a par-5. Edwards felt strongly that Watson should do the former – and that his golfer needed a good kick in the pants, as well! So Edwards read him the riot act (including a few expletives), threw Watson's 7-iron and 3-wood at his feet, and then stormed down the fairway with the bag, leaving Watson to make up his own dang mind. Again, it takes a special relationship for something like this to transpire – without a subsequent termination. (Image: Watson and Edwards. Martin/Getty Images, via newyorkdailynews.com)
     Maybe Brown should not have been so quick to "get out of the way" on the second hole. But it's impossible to say. If he had talked Johnson into trying something different, and it hadn't worked out, it might have rattled Johnson just as much. It's kind of a no-win situation: Caddies are often quick to get the blame but rarely get proper credit when they contribute to a win.

     Swing coach? No. Sports psychologist? Absolutely. Scapegoat? Sometimes. No doubt about it, a successful tour caddie is a special breed.

Note: As far as I can tell, "caddie" is the preferred spelling for the word describing a golfer's bag-toting assistant, though "caddy" is the spelling used in the title of Feinstein's book. Either is considered correct.