It makes no sense. In the hands of the game’s best, a golf club one day can be an instrument of beauty and truth. It is Harry Potter’s wand. Leonard Bernstein’s baton.
Then, the next day, the same player seemingly with the same swing and showing no outward signs of having spent the night before at a fraternity kegger might as well be holding a writhing python on the first tee. Then it all goes pffft, all that brilliance and confidence drifts off like just so much vape shop residue.
Viktor Hovland pounded par and compounded his lead at the Tour Championship Saturday, shooting 66 and taking a 6-stroke advantage to Sunday’s final round. That would seem insurmountable, until you consider that was the same lead Scottie Scheffler had here a year ago before Rory McIlroy ran him down that Sunday. So, you’re saying there’s a chance this fourth round isn’t a slaughterhouse-style foregone conclusion, that the PGA Tour hasn’t already Venmoed Hovland his $18 million winners share?
Meanwhile, trailing Hovland Saturday were a whole bunch of fellows betrayed by the fleeting, ephemeral nature of the game they play.
Collin Morikawa was on a merry lark the first two days at East Lake Golf Club, going lower than anyone ever has here, breaking Tiger Woods 36-hole scoring record by a comfortable two strokes. He was worry- and bogey-free. Then came Saturday, and the club started slithering in his hands and golf got kind of hard again on the 431-yard par-4 fifth hole.
A faulty tee shot strayed into the right rough. Morikawa gouged out his second just in front of a greenside bunker, which he found with his third after chunking a chip. A blast and two putts later Morikawa was confessing to a double bogey on his scorecard and the lead he had enjoyed since the first round was gone.
The oft-cruel game decided to pile on him from there. Morikawa fashioned 14 birdies over the first two rounds, yet managed only a single one, on the 17th hole, in the third en route to a 3 over 73. At 13 under for the tournament, he’s now 7 back of Hovland.
And Woods’ 23-year-old 54-hole scoring record is tucked away in bed for another year.
Scheffler had spent an entire season putting together the best ball-striking season of them all and then misfired like a rusty derringer Saturday. He hit only half his 18 greens in regulation, for the second time in three days found the water on the par 3 15th and put together a most uninspiring 73. The FedEx Cup points leader with the staggered scoring system advantage at the start of the week is now nine off the lead and casting his eyes much farther down the money-winnings chart than he ever expected to.
No one in the vicinity of Hovland other than Xander Schauffele was able to breathe any life into this tournament. Other than those two, none of the other five players who began the day double-digit under par shot lower than 70 Saturday. They would play to a combined 8 over par.
So much ugliness out there, saved only by the lovely rainbow images CBS broadcast during a 77-minute weather delay. The pot of gold at the end, however, awaits another day to be discovered.
In the fading light of day as play extended into sunset, Hovland was so far out in front you could scarcely see him if not for the bright, Oklahoma State orange britches he had pulled out of the closet. Who was that way off in the distance? A school crossing guard? A traffic cone with legs?
He stumbled only once, making his only bogey on the par-4 14th. His response was to make a 15-footer for birdie on the next hole.
Schauffele will be paired with Hovland Sunday, trying to figure out some way to jump the chasm between himself and his partner.
“I know what I need to do. I need to go out and try and put as much pressure on him tomorrow on that front nine as I can and hope for the best,” Schauffele said.
His greatest hope may be that Hovland – who admitted, “I can’t remember I’ve led by that many shots, so I guess it’s a little unfamiliar” – gets disoriented and wanders off between the front and back nines.
Or, that the same clubs that have treated him so well this week inexplicably turn on him.
About the Author
