It's a year later - what has Phil Mickelson learned from Winged Foot?

The U.S. Open is upon us once again, and the world’s toughest tournament will be tougher-than-ever this year, being contested at frightening Oakmont, outside of Pittsburgh, where the members like to say the superintendent slows down the greens for the world’s best players. Will there be a train wreck at tournament’s end, like last year’s final—hole debacle? For those with fading memories, here’s a quick encapsulation and perspective on last year’s gory finale:

Television commentator Johnny Miller summed it up best, watching Phil Mickelson spraying tee shots like a lawn sprinkler throughout the final round of the 2006 U.S. Open. “Ben Hogan is officially rolling over in his grave.”

To his credit, though he managed to hit only two fairways from the tee all day, was hamstrung by a series of boneheaded shots, like a fairway wood from the tangled rough that was advanced little more than the length of his shadow, Phil “the thrill” managed to stay near the lead all day at punishing Winged Foot. He was on top after fanning a drive on 17, the ball nearly coming to rest in a garbage bag, but hit another Houdini, curved it onto the green, two-putted for par, and held a one shot lead at the last. All he needed was par to win, bogey to slip into a next-day playoff. Then came disaster.

Mistake one: The misbehaving driver, given yet another chance, was the club of choice off the tee. The breeze was against, and he claimed his 4-wood wouldn’t get him far enough down the fairway to easily reach the green. Where was the 3-wood, you ask? In the car trunk.

Mistake two: After another wild slice, this one coming to rest next to a hospitality tent, Lefty attempted to overcook a 3-iron around an impeding tree, trying for another miracle curveball to the green. But instead the ball whapped the bark, coming to rest perhaps 30 yards from the disbelieving golfer. In full meltdown mode, he buried his next shot in a greenside bunker. Mick’s a sand master, but not even Lawrence of Arabia could’ve gotten this shot anywhere near the cup, and his blast trundled past the hole and trickled into greenside rough. Two wick-whacks later, Phil had officially snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.

Why did he hit driver yet again? Why, when his wedge-work is the envy of Tour pros the world over, didn’t he play out safely away from the tree, and attempt to win the national championship by getting up and down from short range? Worse comes to worse, if he missed the ensuing par putt for the title, he would’ve had an 18-hole playoff the next day against a less-experienced opponent. Only Faltering Phil and his Dr. Freud know the answer to that one.

But here’s the sad irony: Both the late Payne Stewart and David Toms, at the ‘99 U.S. Open and ‘01 PGA Championship, respectively, used that exact strategy to beat Mickelson, the strategy he eschewed that fateful Father’s Day evening. In other words, they weighed their options, chose to play the percentages, got the ball back in play and let their wedges do the talking. And ultimately, the winning.

Before he holed his double bogey putt, the would-be champ was crouched on the green, head in hands, as his disbelieving legions turned tail for the exits. He might have been reading the line, but he was also probably remembering the words of Argentinean great Roberto DiVicenzo, who uttered this immortal phrase after his notorious Masters scorecard gaffe back in ‘68: “What a stupid I am.”