If this was Phil Mickelson’s final U.S. Open, it ended with a bittersweet thud
The fans who remained to follow Phil Mickelson late on Friday at Oakmont loved him, despite everything, and even though there weren’t many of them. The overcast early evening skies made it look at least an hour darker than it was, and scoreboards flashed an ominous yellow message: Dangerous weather is approaching. Prepare to take shelter or return to your vehicles. Then there was his score—four over as he stood on the 15th tee, with the cut settling at seven over. If it was true that this was Mickelson’s last U.S. Open—the words he used were “high likelihood,” now that his exemptions into the one major that eluded him in his World Golf Hall of Fame career have run out—it at least didn’t feel like this would be his last day.
They shouted his name behind the ropes on 15, threadbare in numbers. A woman lifted both hands, to make herself bigger, and Phil, in his green shirt with a white collar, nodded. The feature that has always stood out most are the eyes, wide and fervent, and even now, with his 55th birthday coming on Monday, they give him a sheen of youth. Mickelson yanked his drive right, pushed his second left, and then unleashed a quintessential Mickelson recovery, a pitch from the deep rough that landed in the perfect spot and trickled down the slope and onto the green, 12 feet away.
And then he three-putted. Two of the three buffer strokes between him and the cut, gone in a hole.
“Keep it going Phil!” a man shouted from the near-empty grandstand. “We’re with you!”
The air, though cooler now, was heavy with humidity, heavy with the storm hidden somewhere behind the haze that always seems to hang over Oakmont. A light breeze touched the tops of the fescue, and the one stroke keeping him in the tournament would have felt so much more secure anywhere but here.
On 16, he gave himself a birdie chance from 17 feet and tapped in for an easy par.
Two holes remained
The story of Phil Mickelson’s denouement is so well-told by now, in books, in article, among fans, and everywhere, that it’s ingrained gospel in those of us who follow the sport—the defection to LIV after years of enmity with the PGA Tour, the description of his new bosses as “scary m**s,” the strange silence after, the surprise second-place finish at the 2023 Masters and, after that, the odd muted quality of his existence after decades of a presence within the sport that walked a tightrope between colorful and tawdry. It was the ringmaster subdued, aside from an occasional re-emergence to make ridiculous predictions (“Scottie won’t win in 2025”).
major, in which he finished runner-up an agonizing record six times, the gambler never won, his national open, and thus in some ways closest to the renegade heart.
His drive on the short par-4 17th just rolled into the rough near the green, and either he tried to be too perfect with his chip over the bunker, or the Oakmont grass grabbed his club and refused to yield. Regardless, the ball dipped limply into the sand. He played his next shot over the imposing face conservatively, but his par putt gathered disastrous speed and rolled eight feet past. He had yielded his last bit of security, and when he missed the bogey comeback, he was now outside the cut line and staring at the anticlimactic end.
It could have been a more dramatic scene, but everything felt unplanned and unpolished as Mickelson’s 34th U.S. Open ended unexpectedly. His reaction was minimal, almost unnoticeable, as he simply walked away. USGA officials told the group of reporters near the clubhouse that they would try to get him to stop. A moment later, as he reappeared, one reporter bravely called out, “Phil, can we ask you a few questions?”
“I’ll pass,” he replied gently, without stopping. Still, as he glanced back, his eyes held their familiar spark.
