A little man with a big heart won the 95th U.S. Open Sunday. Corey Pavin did it his way, by feel.
While golf’s heavy hitters attempted to strangle Shinnecock Hills before Shinnecock Hills smothered them, Pavin gently massaged the venerable course, playing it instead of allowing it to play him.
At 5 feet 9, 140 pounds, Pavin can’t make the ball scream. But he does make it talk.
“Hopefully, what I lack in distance,” he says, “I make up for elsewhere. This round today was one of the most intelligent I’ve ever played.”
Pavin shot 68 to finish at even par, two strokes ahead of Greg Norman, who was stranded at the altar again. All week, Pavin hovered. He does that well. But not until Norman bogeyed the 12th hole Sunday did Pavin, two groups ahead, claim a share of the lead.
Thereafter, Pavin showed vintage stuff, separating himself from the pile of contenders with the guts of burglar, hands of a surgeon and a 4-wood approach on the 72nd hole. That’s the same par 4 that Norman, about 20 minutes hence, used a 7-iron to reach.
You get the idea. Last year, on a PGA Tour with an exempt list of 125 players, Pavin ranked 158th in driving distance. But he was seventh in scoring average. Of the 73 golfers who made the Open cut, Pavin tied for 66th in brute strength off the tee. But the trophy is his, and he’s the only one President Clinton called after the round.
“Corey might not be pretty,” admired Phil Mickelson, one of the beaten and more gifted favorites. “But he’s effective.”
Pavin is in a league of his own for shaping the ball. He’ll cut it, draw it, hit it straight, low or high, depending on the conditions, terrain or situation. In this sense, his game was ideal for Shinnecock Hills and its fickle, though occasionally ferocious winds. The course rewards the inventive golfer, while robots perish.
Consider Nick Faldo, the great Brit who left family behind in Europe to pursue his dream, golf’s grand slam. He joined the U.S. tour, all the better to prepare for America’s Open. But if Faldo has a flaw, it’s that he’s too mechanical and not creative. At Shinnecock, he was no factor. He said he was uncomfortable chipping to these unfriendly greens.
The argument about Norman blowing another major could be stoked, too. It seems to violate the Shark’s nature to aim anywhere but directly at the flagstick, yet Shinnecock emphatically endorses a battle cry of the uppity Hamptons. Everything is location, location, location.
Twice this weekend on No. 5, a par 5 playing downwind, Norman drilled irons with too much gusto, beyond the green. The hole was the easiest of any. It yielded nine of the 13 Open eagles. But Norman birdied it only once in four rounds, and on the other par 5, No. 16, Norman was 1-over. Pavin, meanwhile, was 5-under on the par 5s.
Others, however, joined Norman in retreat. Mickelson, Tom Lehman, Davis Love III, Bob Tway. They approached too many short putts with fear and trembling and predictable results. Only Pavin looked confident on this mission, but that’s his personality. Now you know why the Europeans positively fear Pavin during Ryder Cup matches, though he took it a bit far wearing Desert Storm regalia during the 1991 thriller at Kiawah Island.
Pavin, who didn’t hit 100 pounds until he was a high school senior, had to curb that competitive zeal at UCLA. He threw clubs and was disqualified from the NCAA championships because of a tantrum. Born to Jewish parents, he says he has found peace as a Christian. He doesn’t judge himself solely by his scorecard anymore.
But Corey Pavin will grind away when others abandon hope. Drive for show, putt for dough, and pick him for a partner. World’s worst practice swing, hits 4-woods from the fairway, but he gets it in the hole.
The Open trophy asks who, not how.
More Top Picks Hydrow Rower Review