Two days, 36 holes, one whiffed tap-in putt by Rickie Fowler, one Cameron Tringale DQ for accidentally signing for a lower score than he shot, one trip to Google to find out who Mike Lorenzo-Vera is, one more Tony Finau flirtation with winning a big one, and two days into Brooks Koepka reminding us that he’s still the baddest man in golf, one thing has come clear:
It’s nice to have major-championship golf back.
Forget that this PGA Championship has no fans on site, that face masks have become a fashion accessory and that summer is still baking the juice out of most of the United States, the first two days of golf at emerald green and enviably cool TPC Harding Park have come to life the way a major championship should.
What major championships have, whether they’re played in April in Augusta or in San Francisco’s version of summer, is a meaning and magnitude that can’t be manufactured. It’s as real as the marine layer along the Pacific coast that comes and goes but changes how things look and feel when it arrives.
It’s been 13 months since Shane Lowry won the Open Championship at Royal Portrush, sending a nation into a collective chorus of celebration, and the inordinate gap between the game’s biggest championships heightened the meaning of this PGA.
There was a time when it felt like Tiger Woods would win majors forever, but each major start feels more precious now because he’s 44, his back has been rebuilt and the sand is running out in his hourglass as he stalks Mount Nicklaus.
Tournament golf returned to our pandemic-disrupted world more than two months ago, but this is the most meaningful week since the restart in terms of shaping not just the narrative of the season but the career arc of whomever hugs the Wanamaker Trophy on Sunday evening.
Pardon the pop quiz but here goes:
Who won the Charles Schwab Challenge, the first event in the Tour’s restart?
Bueller … Bueller … anyone?
Daniel Berger.
That’s not meant disrespectfully toward Berger, who has happily regained the form that had him ticketed for stardom before a wrist issue stalled his progress for too long. It’s meant to point out how much bigger and more important this week feels because, well, it is – as Berger might prove this weekend.
It doesn’t hurt that golf fans up and down the Atlantic seaboard get the added treat of prime-time golf in what continues to be a sports-threatened landscape. Baseball keeps showing us how real the COVID-19 threat is, the NBA games being played seem meaningless at the moment and football season, particularly the college variety, feels more threatened by the day.
And here sits professional golf, halfway through a major championship that is beginning to feel special in its own peculiar way.
If nothing else, this PGA Championship has given us Tommy Fleetwood rocking an off-white cardigan with that hair of his blowing in the breeze, a star in search of a trophy that keeps playing hide and seek with him. Too bad we all can’t be as cool as Fleetwood.
It’s given us Bryson DeChambeau and his broken driver which appeared to die of blunt-force trauma, a fitting demise if ever there was one.
It’s reminded us of how good Jason Day was for a time and might be again if his fickle back will allow it.
It’s shown us that even if you’re Rory McIlroy or Justin Thomas, the birdies don’t just happen, and it’s shown us just how good someone like Haotong Li is even if his is the most unfamiliar name on the leaderboard.
Not that we needed reminding, but the first two days of this PGA Championship have rekindled the respect for what Tiger Woods has accomplished, winning 15 majors. There was a time when it felt like Woods would win majors forever, but each major start feels more precious now because he’s 44, his back has been rebuilt and the sand is running out in his hourglass as he stalks Mount Nicklaus.
Maybe the Masters, 16 months ago, was the last one Woods will win but maybe not. There’s a joy in seeing Woods playing seemingly pain free, even if the new putter in his bag is lacking Harry Potter’s magic to this point. Seeing Woods walk with purpose still inspires anticipation.
Now comes the fun part, the weekend.
The leaderboard has the requisite star power, the golf course has developed its personality and it feels like something’s brewing. Golf being the persnickety game that it is, someone may grab this championship like it’s the last doughnut and go run and hide, stealing any potential drama in the process.
Then again, this is Harding Park, named for a president and located barely a par-5 away from where the last notable duel was held in these United States 161 years ago. For a place that’s hosting its first major championship, it looks like a natural.
It’s where Gary Player, Gene Littler, Jackie Burke, Chi-Chi Rodriguez, Ken Venturi, Byron Nelson, Tiger Woods and Rory McIlroy have won tournaments. By sundown Sunday, another story will have been written.
We’ve just reached intermission. Time for the big and overdue finish.