gotta love new yorkers

The 106th US Open -- one of the PGA's most telling tournaments -- is being held at the picturesque Winged Foot Golf Club in Mamaroneck, NY (which is about a 20-25 miles north of New York City). As of today the leading score is a painful two over par, which is not reflective of the abilities of the players; instead, the scores are indicative of the grueling nature of the course itself. The commentators of this particular open are quietly wagering bets that the winning score will not fall below par in tomorrow's final round. If Phil Mickelson, however, has a round like he did today; the commentators may have to dish out the cake. We'll see.

The real reason for this particular blog was prompted by the final approach of the third-to-last pairing of today's round -- Phil Mickelson and Graeme McDowell. As the two made their way to the green of the 18th hole, in typical NY fashion, there was explosion of excitement and appreciation -- mostly for NY's adopted spokesgolfer Phil Mickelson -- that was probably heard throughout the entire Club (if not over the yelling of Paul Sr. down in Orange County). Mickelson's approach shot was aggressively beautiful -- landing just a couple paces away from one of the toughest hole locations for the whole tourney. McDowell's approach, however, came up a bit short of the green.

The front of the 18th green is anything but inviting -- especially for players who like to play it safe. (The slope of this frontage might as well be redefined as being a wall). The hole placement for today's round was slightly beyond a crucial "ledge" on this green; a ledge that could easily make or utterly destroy someone's round. The margin of error on this ledge is almost non-existent -- it's do or die. McDowell's ball was at the bottom of the wall, on the initial upslope, with just a short pitch to the hole. For some unknown reason, McDowell was trying to be tenderly aggressive with his shot by attempting a little pitch and run; yet, his shot rolled to the infamous ledge, hesitated, and then proceeded to roll backwards. The ball not only rolled back to in front of McDowell's feet, it actually settled itself back its own divot.

*editorial comment: if it isn't apparent by now, I sometimes take a longer route between two points in order to make one. In the words of Chevy Chase, in Caddyshack: "Sometimes the shortest distance between two points is a straight line . . . in the opposite direction"*

The moment the ball stopped its roll in the divot, a smile emerged on McDowell's face which then prompted a respectful wave of laughter throughout the stands. Then, once the response started to subside, a fan unashamedly shouted: "Hit it harder!", to which McDowell smiled again. Now on his fourth shot (on a par-four hole), McDowell has to regain his composure and essentially hit the exact same shot -- only harder. He takes his stance, makes his swing, and watches his ball fly on the same trajectory to the same location on the green; only this time, it held on the ledge and stayed put. The moment the ball stopped moving, the crowd errupted into an applause that would be expected had McDowell holed the shot from 200-yards out.

This type of response is indicative of a New York audience . . . they are passionately involved with what they're watching and they feel unhindered in manifesting such passion -- especially if you're an underdog (or, have underdog-like tendencies, which was apparently the case for McDowell today). They love the games they watch, and they love the athletes that play them. I can only dream of what the players are feeling when they hear such unhindered passion errupt on their behalf.