There was never a true doubt he had it.
Most fans, whether they be reclined in their La-Z-Boys or peering out over hole 16 from the grandstand, knew Brooks Koepka was on his way to a second major championship. Not just a second major, but a second U.S. Open, coming in back to back years.
The 16 hole, a par-5 that stretches 616 yards, is daunting to most golfers. “Most” being the key word here, though, because the back to back champion finds no hole daunting. With his heels slightly brushing the rough on the left side of the fairway, he aimed toward the pin and came awfully close, landing 3.7 feet from the cup off of his third shot. A shot that hundreds of thousands of golf’s most avid followers and players marveled at, while Koepka’s cheek never succumbed to but a twitch. No hint of a smile, and no hint of any relief. Only sheer confidence. Ian O’Connor noted that “during his final round, Koepka came across as the least stressed man on the planet.” This was quite clear.
The opposite of a golf nerd, Brooks Koepka’s is an entire different kind of stoic in a sport with which those are seemingly easy to come by. Victories, however, are the opposite. Koepka is no stranger to such a challenge. “I don’t want to say I didn’t think I could do it, but I knew that it was going to be that much more difficult,” he said following his win on Sunday. “And to finally do it, it’s much more gratifying the second time. I can really appreciate how hard it is to win a major.”
The difficulty of winning a major is a formidable task in and of itself. This weekend, however, the major stakes themselves weren’t the only challenge. The Long Island monster, 127-year-old Shinnecock Hills, gave players problems that no course in recent major history has had the ability to do. By the third day, USGA had to apologize in response to its player’s harsh words, and promised to slow down the course. Zach Johnson noted that the USGA “lost the course.” Rafa Cabrera-Bello called it an unfair “test of golf.” Ian Poulter, who was in contention through two rounds, added his perspective via Twitter.
Phil Mickelson had the moment of the weekend, and not for the right reasons, when he hit a moving ball on his way to a round of 81. A move that golf’s best writers, commentators, and analysts were not only taken aback by, but appalled.
Amidst a weekend of chaos and golfer vexation, Brooks Koepka remained stone cold. Not in the way that it is typically negatively connoted, but in the way that his demeanor would not allow any awry shot to upset his focus. With a two-shot lead over Sunday’s surprise Tommy Fleetwood; who shot a 7-under 63, tying the lowest recorded round in the history of the U.S. Open; Koepka stared down the 18th hole, and he had to know that he was moments away from a win. His drive went 284 yards, leaving him 201 from the pin. What followed was the exact type of shot a golfer clinging to a lead would fear.
The lucky bounce was one thing, but the following shot was another. His third shot landed in par-potential distance, but the first putt missing left wouldn’t matter. Even with the bogey, his lead was safe, one shot ahead of Fleetwood’s final score at +2. The only threat to his second straight silver jug after he finished off hole 18 was Tony Finau. The American would’ve needed an eagle on the final hole to send the tournament to what would have been sure to be a thrilling playoff. He double bogeyed.
The tournament, which of late has been dubbed to be “his” tournament, is one in which Koepka has certainly found evident success. In six appearances, he has made five cuts, all five being top-25 finishes.
Atypical to your usual golfer, Koepka is “no nerd.” This distinction been well documented and heavily analyzed, even joked about. The main question is whether or not his approach to the game is growing into a theme for the sport, or is a theme individual to Koepka.
A Golf.com piece by Alan Shipnuck chronicled Koepka’s daily gym regimine, and began with a simple question: are golfers athletes? That question has circled more recently than ever with his growing popularity and rising ranking. He and his best buddy Dustin Johnson typically hit the gym together prior to their respective rounds. For instance, they’ll “slam a 20 lb. medicine ball against a wall in a motion that mimicked the golf swing,” writes Shipnuck. Along with other vigorous workouts and competitive jabs (“take off your diaper and lift some real weight”), Koepka has formed a niche for the kind of golfer that lifts until they drop mere hours prior to teeing off at Shinnecock. The question, asked and answered, should be no question at all. Koepka, while unique, has proven that golfers are athletes. The question itself is an absurdity. The answer? Obvious.
His pre-tournament workouts are merely the start of the list that make him the atypical PGA Tour stud. Emotions often reach their peaks in a sport where frustration is one of many names to the game. But no matter the error, no matter the shot, Koepka remained and remains stoic. When faced with a potential near brutal error on 18, the only reaction he so much as showed was the point in the direction of the grandstand with which his third shot would collide. He knew where his ball was headed, and he made that known with the changing direction of his club. But whatever was inside his head remained a secret.
No matter the condition of the course, Koepka remained calm. As aforementioned, multiple golfers were brought crashing down to earth by Shinnecock’s slim fairways and fast, hilly greens. With that crash came frustration, and just that was on display for all to see. The approach, not just to the course, but to comments on the course was different for the champ. “This golf course. There’s not many birdies,” he said. “There’s a disaster around every corner. I mean, all it takes is one shot in the fescue, and you could be in there for a while.” A slightly analytical approach from a guy who tends to stray from analytics, rather than a drubbing of the USGA with insults like “bozo,” and suggestions that they “lost the course.”
As he walked off with the knowledge that his win was all but official, he was obviously thrilled, but he was quiet about it. The most emotion he showed came prior to his clubhouse trot, as he embraced his caddie Richard Elliott. On his walk back to the clubhouse, he shared a mid-grin kiss with his girlfriend Jena Sims. The rest of the walk was filled with soft “thank you’s” and quick hugs to family members, coaches, and the last man to go back-to-back at the U.S. Open, Curtis Strange.
While the USGA nearly claimed a tournament by pulling the rug out from under the sport’s elite, golfers like Tommy Fleetwood, Dustin Johnson, Patrick Reed, and Tony Finau rose to such a challenge. Yet Koepka did so without much of a fluctuation in play, mood, score, and with a positive growth in confidence. You could see internal groans and external shrugs in genuine confusion as to how these putts couldn’t find the tin. Prior to the cut, Jordan Spieth was seen slamming his putter on his way to a first round bogey. Meanwhile, Koepka would be seen fist pumping after a bogey save. Sure, the situations varied. But so did the confidence levels. What was even more impressive was the way it remained hidden on the surface, but evident in the eyes and the swing.
The course was mishandled. But the tournament as a whole has become one that golf’s resident stoic will continue to handle and contend within, as long as he’s swinging a club.
Will Bjarnar 