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MICKELSON’s Tiny Gesture Makes Big Impact

Published

4 years ago

November 1, 2021

It’s hard to keep track of all the ways Phil Mickelson has captured our attention over the years. Just this last spring, we watched a 50-year-old Phil compete in the 2021 PGA Championship. He surprised everyone when he managed to stay ahead of the pack, then sank an amazing recovery shot on hole 5. So Phil.

Then there was the touching moment he shared with a young fan who sat in a wheelchair. He passed the boy as he was headed to the next hole and stopped to hand the child his golf ball. So Phil.

That ball is now sitting on a dresser in Statesboro, Ga. Everybody who comes to visit Kyler Aubrey, the ball’s owner, wants to see it.

Koepka said hi to Kyler that day, too. In September, on the Wednesday of the Tour Championship at East Lake, in Atlanta, Koepka invited Kyler on to the practice range. He asked Kyler what kind of music he likes.

“Drake,” Kyler said, tapping on his iPad. He has cerebral palsy, among other profound challenges. He’s not verbal.

Kyler typed out the names of his favorite Drake songs.

“Yep, I like those songs, too,” Koepka said.

In a supportive gesture, Koepka wore a shirt that was designed by the rapper. Later that day, he even went up to see how Kyler was doing after he sank a putt during the event. He walked over to Kyler and said, “You having fun? Anybody come over and say hi?”

Kyler wrote on his iPad, “Dustin. Rory.” He touched a button so his written words would become speech. Koepka leaned in so he could hear the response.

Kyler got into Drake, and other musicians, not through an older sibling, as many people do, but through his kid brother, Jordan. Jordan could tell you all about “Statesboro Blues,” both the Allman Brothers version of it and the Blind Willie McTell original. Jordan played football and soccer. He died after falling from a moving vehicle in the summer before his senior year at Statesboro High. That was in 2015. He was 17.

Kyler has a sister, Sloan, who played on the boys’ golf team in high school, worked summers at the Forest Heights Country Club, in Statesboro, and is now a sophomore at Mercer University, in Macon. It was one of Sloan’s golf friends, familiar with the Ocean Course, who suggested the 5th green as a good place for Kyler to watch the action.

Kyler’s parents — Josh, a sportswriter for the Statesboro Herald, and Penny, a special education teacher — have logged many miles, pushing Kyler’s wheelchair across various PGA Tour courses. But Kiawah and its sandy paths presented different challenges. “Drunk people are very helpful,” the father will tell you. “But they may not push you in the right direction.” Cold beer followed the warm sun at the PGA this year.

Kyler is 29. Starting when Kyler was 2, his father would strap him into his golf cart and they’d go around the course at Georgia Southern University. Kyler’s first tournament was at Hilton Head in 1999, the only year Tiger played the event. Kyler got Tiger’s signature and was off to the races.

Given that some of his movements are restricted, Kyler does not have a typical golf clap. He even invented his own to show his support at events by gently pat his hand with his fist. Kyler is a familiar face to PGA Tour pros and has interacted with many of the golfers in the past. He even received tickets to take his father to an event that were gifted by Rory McIlroy.

When Justin Rose won the Payne Stewart Award this year, he spoke about the enduring value of small gestures. He remembered Payne tossing him a ball at Royal St. George’s in 1993. Arnold Palmer was the king of the small gesture — flirty winks, bespoke autographs, handshakes with a shelf-life of forever. You’ll still hear people say, “Arnold was my hero.” Phil’s got some Arnold in him. With all that he had going on just then, Phil saw a kid in a wheelchair — Kyler looks like a kid — and gave him his game ball, fresh off a birdie. “Thanks for bringing me some luck,” he told Kyler. Kyler was screaming — a guttural grunt — through his joy.

But the real heroes here, of course, are the Aubreys, carrying on, despite their daily hardships and the struggle that must shroud them, even on the best of days.

That Sunday at Kiawah was right up there. Kyler was wiped out by the time he got home. Still, he got out his iPad and tapped out a message. Every word for him is work.

Golf ball.

Meet Phil.

Thank you Daddy.

This article originally appeared on Golf.com.

Blog

One of the Greatest Putts in U.S. Open History?

JJ Spaun’s 64-Foot Walk-Off

Published

1 week ago

June 16, 2025

James Fairway

When JJ Spaun stood over a 64-foot birdie putt on the 72nd hole of the 2025 U.S. Open at Oakmont, few could have predicted what would come next. The ball meandered across the slick green, trickling over every contour, picking up speed at the crest, and then—like it had GPS—dropped center cup. Spaun dropped his putter, raised his arms, and the crowd erupted. With that single stroke, he claimed his first major title in one of the most dramatic finishes in U.S. Open history.

But how does Spaun’s putt stack up against other legendary finishes in the tournament’s storied past? Let’s break down some of the most iconic moments and see where this one lands.

1. Payne Stewart – 1999 U.S. Open at Pinehurst

Perhaps the most iconic putt in U.S. Open history came from Payne Stewart, who nailed a 15-footer for par on the 18th to win by one over Phil Mickelson. The pose—fist pump and outstretched leg—has since been immortalized in a statue at Pinehurst. What made it legendary wasn’t just the putt—it was the context: Stewart’s final major before his tragic death just months later.

Verdict: Iconic and emotional. Spaun’s putt was longer, but Stewart’s was more poetic.

2. Tiger Woods – 2008 U.S. Open at Torrey Pines

Woods drained a 12-foot birdie on the 72nd hole to force a playoff with Rocco Mediate—while basically playing on one leg. That tournament went to sudden death after an 18-hole playoff, and Tiger prevailed. This was peak Tiger drama, pain and all.

Verdict: Spaun’s putt was longer, but Tiger’s win was sheer willpower and mystique.

3. Jack Nicklaus – 1972 U.S. Open at Pebble Beach

With a 1-iron shot that hit the flagstick on 17 and a crucial birdie putt on 18, Jack sealed a dominant win. His precision and timing under pressure showed why he’s the GOAT.

Verdict: Not a putt for the win, but a signature finishing statement from Jack. Spaun’s was more electric in terms of pure putter drama.

4. Ben Hogan – 1950 U.S. Open at Merion

Hogan’s 1-iron into the 18th fairway and the par to force a playoff—just 16 months after a near-fatal car crash—remain legendary. He won the playoff and completed one of golf’s great comeback stories.

Verdict: Larger-than-life comeback. Spaun’s putt had more flair, but Hogan’s win was heroic.

5. JJ Spaun – 2025 U.S. Open at Oakmont

Let’s not underestimate what Spaun accomplished. The pressure was immense. He wasn’t the favorite. And on the most treacherous greens in golf, he buried a 64-foot bomb—a putt most players would be happy to lag to within 5 feet—to win the U.S. Open outright.

Verdict: For distance, surprise, and drama, Spaun’s putt may be the most shocking winning stroke in U.S. Open history.

Final Thoughts

JJ Spaun may not have the résumé of a Nicklaus or Woods, but for one Sunday afternoon in June 2025, he created a moment that will live in golf lore forever. Spaun’s putt was longer than Stewart’s, more unexpected than Tiger’s, and more dramatic than any final-hole finish in recent memory.

In terms of pure clutch putting? It might just be the greatest walk-off in U.S. Open history.

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The Zen of the Shank: Finding Inner Peace in Your Worst Shots

Find your inner peace even when you aren’t playing well.

Published

1 week ago

June 16, 2025

Ty Webb

Ah, the shank. That glorious, unpredictable misfire that sends your pristine golf ball screaming sideways, often directly into the unsuspecting shins of your playing partner, or perhaps, with a touch of poetic irony, into the very lake you’ve been trying to avoid all day. Most golfers, bless their earnest little hearts, view the shank as a catastrophic failure, a blight upon their scorecard, a testament to their inherent lack of coordination. They curse, they throw clubs, they contemplate a career in competitive thumb-wrestling. But not I. No, my friends, for I, Ty Webb, have found enlightenment in the humble shank.

You see, the shank is not a mistake; it’s a revelation. It’s the universe’s way of reminding you that control is an illusion, that perfection is a myth, and that sometimes, the most direct path to your goal is, in fact, a wildly indirect one. Think of it as a philosophical detour, a sudden, unexpected journey into the unknown. One moment, you’re aiming for the green, a paragon of precision and intent. The next, your ball is ricocheting off a tree, narrowly missing a squirrel, and landing, by some divine comedic intervention, closer to the hole than your perfectly struck drive ever would have. Is that not a miracle? Is that not a sign that the golf gods, much like life itself, have a wicked sense of humor?

The key, my dear apprentices of the links, is acceptance. Embrace the shank. Welcome it with open arms, like a long-lost, slightly inebriated relative. When that familiar, sickening thwack echoes through the air, do not despair. Instead, take a deep breath. Close your eyes. Feel the gentle breeze on your face. And then, with a knowing smile, open them and observe the chaos you have wrought. Is it not beautiful in its own chaotic way? Is there not a certain freedom in relinquishing control, in allowing the ball to choose its own destiny, however bizarre that destiny may be?

Some say the shank is a sign of poor technique. I say it’s a sign of a vibrant, untamed spirit. A golfer who never shanks is a golfer who has never truly lived, never truly explored the outer limits of their own golfing absurdity. They are content with mediocrity, with predictable trajectories and mundane outcomes. But you, my enlightened few, you understand that the true joy of golf lies not in the score, but in the story. And what a story a good shank can tell.

So, the next time you feel that familiar tremor of a shank brewing, don’t fight it. Let it flow. Let it be. For in the heart of every shank lies a lesson, a laugh, and perhaps, just perhaps, a path to a lower score you never saw coming. After all, as the great philosopher Basho once said, “A flute with no holes, is not a flute. A donut with no hole, is a Danish.” And a golf game without a shank? Well, that’s just not golf, is it?