Phil the Thrill

***DISCLAIMER ---- I have a few more readers than I used to… So many more that – delightfully – I don’t even know some of the people who are reading this blog. As such, I feel obligated to note that a few words in this particular entry are somewhat less PG-13 than most of my posts. It’s cool, though. I’m not going crazy. Just take it all in context, and everyone will be fine***

I’ll make no excuses about my bias. As a lefty, Phil Mickelson has always been my favorite golfer. Swinging away from the side of the ball that I was more accustomed to was good enough to get me hooked on Phil, but as I grew to appreciate golf – and my own reckless and haphazard game – Phil’s style of play only served to make me a more ardent fan.

The last twenty years or so have blessed the golf fans of the world with two of the greatest to ever tee it up.  Tiger Woods, of course, needs no introduction into this pairing. While many fans would probably correctly guess Mickelson as the second entry on this list, I get the feeling that his greatness still isn’t properly appreciated.

 Phil is the wild card of golf. He’s the unknown quantity of a sport that doesn’t tolerate anything less than exactitudes. When the game hands Phil a 50-foot tree in his line, he asks where all of the branches are, because he’s pretty sure that he can probably get through there and onto the green. That line of thinking has cost him plenty of major championships – it’s also won him a few and proved that risky golf is fine if you have the skill to back it up.

That sort of approach to the game usually doesn’t fly in golf. More often than not, it gets you burned and kills any shot of making a living out of playing the game. When someone can pull off the incredible – and probably ill-advised - under even the most intense pressure, they’re going to have some huge setbacks while also attaining some unbelievable highs.

And maybe that’s the origin of Phil’s not-so-enviable nickname amongst those who are close to the game.

For those who are unfamiliar with the PGA lingo, Phil carries the moniker of ‘FIGJAM’… short for “Fuck, I’m Good. Just Ask Me.’

That nickname is mocking and condescending. For all I know, it’s totally deserved. Phil has always shown the confidence in his own game to try what any other pro would consider stupid. If he fails, he’ll certainly be ridiculed. But when he succeeds – and does so with thousands of dollars in prize money on the line - why shouldn’t he be entitled to assume that ‘FIGJAM’ aura?

Phil has become many things in his career. He’s a Hall-Of-Fame golfer while still being the personification of the weekend hacker. He’s a five-time major winner while still being the guy most likely to blow a tournament in horrific fashion. He’s the one pro that you wouldn’t trust with a three-foot putt, but the only one you’d want to attempt an impossible flop shot from an unplayable lie.

Even when he’s great, Phil can’t help but to buck the trend. During his 20s, he was the ‘next big thing’ in golf, only to get derailed when that Tiger fella’ came along. Mickelson never wavered, spending the next decade taking flak as the best player to be winless in majors while absolutely dominating the game anytime Tiger wasn’t stealing the show.

When Phil finally broke through for his first major win at The Masters in 2004, it was somehow viewed as more of a vindication of his approach to the game rather than a coronation of his inherent skill and talent. Undeterred, Mickelson quickly stockpiled another three major titles in the next six years.

But Phil’s reputation as a loose cannon has never gone away. And that’s probably fair. Look at his six 2^nd place finishes in the U.S. Open and – using logic that is inherent to most golfers, but seemingly foreign to Phil – Mickelson could easily have a career grand slam and be in the top five of all-time major winners. For fans like me who have been devastated by plenty of Sunday collapses, it’s all we can do to keep from arguing that Phil is one of the greatest ever and would be widely accepted as such by the masses if not for a few wayward drives or ill-conceived flop shots.

Then again, history is defined as what happened and not what could have happened. Phil will never be at the top of any list and he will never be regarded as the best golfer of his era. That’s a shame for a golfer of his talent level, but it’s also a perfect representation of his career.

Phil has always been at his best when he was being overlooked. He’s always been most humble during his biggest downfalls and he’s always been the guy willing to do the insane – and pull it off – while the rest of the golf world has settled in for five hours of predictability.

Is Phil really THAT talented?

Fuck, he’s good. Just ask anyone.