Phil a major domo

Johnette Howard

June 19, 2004

Two months ago he still was dogged by that ear- burning, career-long refrain that he can't win the big one. Then Phil Mickelson won the Masters. Now the crowds swoon for him.

He's tied for the lead at the U.S. Open with surprise contender Shigeki Maruyama of Japan, a challenger who, fairly or not, is expected to sink down the leader board any moment.

All in all, Mickelson is finding it's good to be hailed as golf's presumptive king.

"I'm looking at the stat sheet," a news conference moderator told Mickelson Friday. "What stat pleases you the most at the moment?"

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"Minus 6," Mickelson cracked, to much laughter.

Just four days ago, Mickelson scoffed at a reporter's question about whether he can sweep all four of golf's majors this year. The suggestion left him incredulous. But if Mickelson goes out Saturday and hangs up another round like Friday's shimmering 4-under-par 66 (he's at 6 under par for the tournament), Mickelson will be answering the Grand Slam questions again.

By day's end Friday, Tiger Woods was still scrambling for his life just to be at 1 over. Ernie Els made a rousing mid-round charge with four straight birdies, then stalled at 3 under, one stroke ahead of stealth contender Vijay Singh.

As admirable and impressive as Maruyama has been - he's handled the craziness that comes with playing in the same threesome as Woods, and he outdrove Woods on nearly every hole Friday - Maruyama admits his game is untested in a tournament like this.

On Thursday the 34-year-old veteran of the Asian Tour was late getting to the first tee because he had an upset stomach. Even with an opening-day 66 in his pocket, Maruyama said he began Friday's round still thinking "make the cut." Not "win!"

By his second-to-last hole, he had cruised through his round with nary a hairy moment. Yet Maruyama, who missed the cut twice in four previous U.S. Open starts, still patted his heart theatrically and exhaled in relief after sinking a 4-foot putt for par. When he made par on 17, he stuck out his tongue and breathed heavily again, as if to say "thank God that's over."

Then he bogeyed his last hole to fall back into a tie with Mickelson.

The pressure is lurking, all right. And Maruyama isn't pretending he doesn't feel it.

But Mickelson? Just as he did during his memorable closing-day rush at the Masters, when he birdied five of his last seven holes to hold off Els, Mickelson has strode around Shinnecock Hills the past two days like some guy smiling at a very funny joke that no one else is in on.

The galleries here flat-out love him. They roar at every good shot he makes and gasp in sympathy when his putts stop short or cruelly curl out. Through it all, Mickelson often has this odd look plastered on his face that falls somewhere between abject astonishment and steadily building bliss.

But could it really be bliss? Here? At a U.S. Open? The tournament long hailed as the most diabolical test in golf?

Granted, a lack of wind and Thursday night's rains made Shinnecock Hills almost docile Friday. The low scores proved it. But something else is going on with Mickelson. Since his Masters breakthrough, he says, he hasn't felt the sense of "relief" that people keep asking him about. He's felt something better.

"A sense of excitement and anticipation," Mickelson said Friday. "I can't wait for the upcoming majors now because I feel like I'm on to something to play well in big tournaments. The style of golf needed in major championships is significantly different, I feel, than a regular Tour event, which seems to be more attack, attack, attack."

Starting with the Masters, Mickelson and his two coaches decided not to rely on Mickelson's awesome talent and cat-burglar guts anymore. That conceit is what got Mickelson mired in his 0-for-46 winless streak at the majors.

In place of the highly improvisational, swashbuckling style Mickelson used to love, he now adheres to a meticulously constructed game plan that emphasizes control and a strategy for every shot. He spent three days at Shinnecock Hills last week, same as he did the week before the Masters, deciding the line he wanted to take on every hole from tee to fairway to green.

"I feel like I've been able to identify the shots I want to hit," Mickelson said. "The other part of it is, I was able to practice the shots I'll be hitting."

Mickelson acknowledged that if he hadn't slogged through a winless year in 2003, he might not have been open to such change. But now it's as if a switch has flipped on in his head. His confidence is soaring. "[The new approach] worked well at Augusta," Mickelson said, "and I like the way it's been working here at the Open."

Like it? He's got to love it. He's two good rounds away from slingshotting past Woods, Els and Singh and establishing himself as the undisputed best player in the game.

Phil Mickelson's 2nd round scorecard