Team USA is full to the gunwales with talent, but there’s something a little strange about how that talent is currently performing. It turns out, through a fluke of bad luck, that three of the biggest American stars from the last two Ryder Cups happen to be showing the worst form of anybody on the 2018 team. That presents a problem, and it’s a thorny one for U.S. captain Jim Furyk.

Phil Mickelson, Patrick Reed, and Jordan Spieth were three of the top five points-earners in the 2016 victory at Hazeltine, and three of the top four at Gleneagles two years earlier. Spieth and Reed weren’t around at Medinah in 2012, but Mickelson was, and he was once again one of the team’s stars, netting three points in a dynamic pairing with Keegan Bradley. It just so happens that as the Americans get ready to do battle in Paris, hoping to win their first Ryder Cup on foreign soil in 25 years, these three U.S. stalwarts are playing some pretty rough golf. Along with Bubba Watson, they are—without a doubt—slumping in a way that the other eight players are not.

U.S. captain Jim Furyk on the possible Tiger-Phil Ryder Cup pairing: ''I won't ever say it wouldn't happen, but it's probably not too likely" https://t.co/iGHb9EZuND

— Sports Illustrated (@SInow) September 26, 2018

It had to be strange for Jim Furyk to see the bottom of the leaderboard at last weekend’s Tour Championship, where positions 28-30 in the 30-man field looked like this:

Patrick Reed: +9

Bubba Watson: +10

Phil Mickelson: +13

Spieth, whose troubles this year are well-chronicled, wasn’t even there—he’s made exactly one top ten since the Masters, and he didn’t qualify for the Tour Championship.

To add to the conundrum, Spieth and Reed are a famously strong pairing, having amassed a 4-1-2 record over the last two competitions. To break them up would be a dramatic, almost reactionary move, but keeping two ice-cold golfers together runs even greater risks. If they can’t re-discover their magic together, it’s like handing a free point to the Europeans.

As if the situation wasn’t tricky enough on its own, Thomas Bjorn made a very smart move by deciding to play four-ball in the Friday morning session. That means the alternate shot pairings will happen in the afternoon, and the last thing you want to do if you’re Jim Furyk is stick a struggling golfer out there in alternate shot, where he can’t be rescued by a hot partner and could potentially submarine an entire match.

This puts the stress squarely on Furyk’s shoulders. Assuming he’s trying to avoid playing his four coldest players in afternoon foursomes, it leaves two choices: He can either play Bubba, Phil, Spieth, and Reed in the morning, or sit them out for an entire day.

He can’t sit them for an entire day. It’s just not plausible, even if it’s arguably the smarter move on paper. As such, you can expect to see all four golfers on Friday morning. Judging by the Tuesday practice groups, Furyk may be planning to break up the band and have Spieth and Reed play with different partners—it may be that Spieth doesn’t want to play with him anymore, considering the “interesting” comments Reed has made this year, from the denied drop at Bay Hill (“I guess my name needs to be Jordan Spieth”) to the trash talk at the WGC-Match Play (“my back still hurts” from carrying Spieth at the Ryder Cup), all of which preceded Reed beating a frustrated Spieth at that WGC. Or maybe they’re completely fine. In any case, it’s easy to imagine Furyk seeing the benefit in giving himself other options if the two aren’t playing well on Friday morning.

But those other options carry a price, and that’s where diplomacy comes in. Patrick Reed wants to play all five sessions. The last time Phil Mickelson had an issue with playing time, he instigated a full mutiny and threw his captain to the wolves. Jordan Spieth is an immensely popular figure, to both his teammates and fans, and any attempt by Furyk to sideline him comes with risks. Of the four, only Bubba Watson—not a very popular figure, relatively speaking—is easily cast aside. Davis Love III felt no compunction at leaving him off the team in 2016, and Furyk can bench him without worrying about the consequences. Bubba even showed at Hazeltine in his vice captain role that he can be a team player under adverse circumstances.

When it comes to the other three, Furyk’s job gets tough. How do you manage those extremely large personalities? How do you disappoint them, in service of winning, and not risk a PR nightmare inside and outside the team room?

The answer comes down to personal management, of course, and there’s no way for anyone besides Jim Furyk to know exactly what notes to sing. Yet it’s an incredibly vital part of his job.

Paul McGinley had a terrific system in Gleneagles, when he paired Lee Westwood and Graeme McDowell with rookies Jamie Donaldson and Victor Dubuisson, respectively, and cast the veterans as sherpas whose role was to win foursomes points with their young charges. It worked, but it may not be the perfect model for Furyk, because Mickelson and Bubba are not playing well, and Bubba in particular is not well suited to being anyone’s guide. It looks like he might try out the shepherd strategy with Mickelson and Finau, but it would likely have to come in morning four-ball. The ideal situation is that they win, sit for the afternoon, and play again on Saturday morning, but that assumes that Finau doesn’t crack under the Ryder Cup pressure, and that Mickelson is happy with playing just one session per day.

As for Reed and Spieth, Furyk is mostly reduced to hoping for the best. If they struggle, he’ll have to deliver the bitter news and hope they’re both mature enough to accept an unlikely demotion.

Furyk is the rare golfer who thinks deeply about every question he’s asked, and brings a curious mind to his sport. Journalists love him, players respect him. He’ll be the same as captain, and you can bet he’ll have considered almost every angle on the course. His greatest challenge, though, will be managing expectations and personalities off the course, particularly when his team hits the inevitable patch of adversity. If he can’t prepare his struggling stars for the prospect of sitting out a crucial session—or perhaps an entire Saturday—he’s in trouble. He must discover how to make them accept his decisions with equanimity while remaining supportive of the team and staying inspired for Sunday singles. Otherwise, his exacting preparation will crumble around him.

There are extremely strong players on Team USA, and they need to be playing in the crucial moments. Identifying them is the easy part. Keeping everyone happy while making the tough choice is where the road gets rocky, and Furyk’s ability to solve this riddle could define the outcome of the Paris Ryder Cup.

Source: golfdigest.com

ST. LOUIS — It produces a hodgepodge of winners. That’s the stigma associated with the PGA Championship. Compared to other majors’ ignominies—like the weather predicating who captures the claret jug or USGA officials unnecessarily intervening at the U.S. Open—the PGA’s alleged stain is relatively innocuous. But that belief is real, and Golf Digest’s own Brian Wacker set off a firestorm for reflecting that sentiment in a recent column, one that drew blowback from some past champions.

But is it fair? Or more importantly, correct? We know there are a host of names engraved on the Wanamaker Trophy that won’t sniff the Hall of Fame, yet every tournament boasts such a roll call. Which got us thinking: Which major—year in, year out—produces the “best” and “worst” winners?

For our investigation we used OWGR data from 2000 to 2017, giving each major 18 submissions for 72 winners total. Why 2000? That year Titleist’s Pro V1 and Nike’s solid-core Tour Accuracy golf balls were introduced, which from an equipment perspective is viewed as the parcel in how the game was played, and how it is today. Plus, manually charting this test became time-consuming, and 18 and 72 seemed apropos golf numbers.

Mentioned above, we pulled a player’s Official World Golf Ranking the week before their major triumph, giving us a snapshot of their stature in the game pre-victory. OWGR does have its critics, but it’s the best barometer available to illustrate this idea of a player’s standing.

So what does that equation reveal? This century, the Open Championship produces the “worst” winner, with an average OWGR rank of 42.55. The Masters has the highest average OWGR winner at 15.77, followed by the U.S. Open with a 21.83 mark and the PGA at 33.22.

That the Masters is decidedly lower than its major brethren is not a surprise. Only 85 to 90 players tee it up at Augusta National, a limited field compared to the competitions at the other three majors. The green jackets want to ensure a “name” entity join their ranks, and—judging by these numbers—that endeavor’s been a success.

However, there are outliers, so what happens if we subtract the highest OWGR winner from each tournament? Call this the Ben Curtis Corollary, because without his Cinderella story in the mix, the Open Championship jumps the PGA, 21.94 to 25.23. (The Masters remains the lowest at 12.65, the U.S. Open trailing at 18.41.)

There is another part to this equation. Chiefly, how often does a championship cater to the best in the world? Amazingly, the PGA Championship comes out on top, with nine of its last 18 winners—Tiger Woods three times, Rory McIlroy twice, Vijay Singh, Phil Mickelson, Padraig Harrington and Jason Day—ranking inside the top five in the world. That’s three more than the Masters and the British, and four better than the U.S. Open.

Moreover, only five times has the PGA Championship winner been ranked outside the top 30 this century. That’s equal to the U.S. Open, with six British Open victors outside the top 30 (the Masters has just two such instances: Zach Johnson and Angel Cabrera).

Mentioned above, the OWGR data provides only a glimpse before a player’s win, failing to showcase what followed. For example, Justin Thomas enters Bellerive as the defending PGA champion, ranked No. 2 in the world. A ranking markedly better than his No. 14 standing the week before his Quail Hollow triumph. Conversely, every major battles this issue, which somewhat negates its wrath.

Still, the OWGR numbers give us an idea of the merit of each event’s winner. And, at least this century, the PGA more than meets the standards of a major champion.

Source: golfdigest.com

Steve DiMeglio, USA TODAY Published 8:15 a.m. ET July 17, 2018

CARNOUSTIE, Scotland — As a skinny lad back in the day, Tiger Woods got his first taste of links golf at venerable Carnoustie. Not on the course, mind you, but on the practice round.

A student at the time at Stanford University, Woods quickly got an education in how to play the ball under the wind and on the ground of the ancient links. He was an amateur playing in the 1995 Scottish Open, but he was a kid at heart who fell in love with this style of golf on that first day at Carnoustie.

“It was one of the cooler things, just staying on the range and hitting the ball at the 100-meter sign. I was hitting 9-irons and 4-irons and 5-irons and just having a blast trying to hit that sign,” a smiling Woods said Tuesday at Carnoustie ahead of Thursday’s start of the 147th British Open.

“I remember my dad on the range with me saying, ‘Are you ever going to hit the ball past the 100-(meter) sign?’ And I said, ‘No, I’m just enjoying this. Are you kidding me? This is the best,’” Woods said.

It was a two-hour tutorial before he finally headed to the course, and on the second hole used his putter 120 yards from the hole.

“That was one of the cooler moments,” Woods said.

Since then, he’s had some big moments in the Open, winning at St. Andrews in 2000 and 2005 and at Hoylake in 2006. He’s back at Carnoustie for his third Open — he finished in a tie for seventh in 1999 and in a tie for 12th in 2007 — and his inner child has once again emerged.

“I’ve always loved playing links golf,” Woods said. “It’s my favorite type of golf. I enjoy this type of golf because it is creative and you have to use your mind. We’re not going to get the most perfect bounces. A certain shot that is hit where you think is a wonderful shot down the middle of the fairway could bounce some weird way. That’s just part of it.

“That’s the fun challenge of it.”