‘I was shocked’: Inside the 3-foot putt that derailed a U.S. Open bid

The U.S. Open’s 36-hole final-stage qualifier in Columbus, Ohio, always draws a sparkling list of hopefuls. That’s because it’s held annually in the wake of the PGA Tour’s Memorial tournament, which is played in Dublin, just 20 miles north. This year’s field, which convened on Monday at Kinsale Golf and Fitness Club, included such PGA Tour luminaries as Eric Cole, Rickie Fowler, Max Homa and Cameron Young, all of whom, in a happy coincidence, landed in a five-for-one playoff for the last of six available qualifying spots; securing the fifth playoff spot, in the role of David (vs. Goliaths), was 29-year-old pro Chase Johnson, who played his college golf at nearby Kent State. For USGA qualifiers, this was about as high wattage a moment as they come.   

The playoff could and probably should have included a sixth player: Jim Knous, a 35-year-old former PGA Tour pro from Basalt, Colo., who now works as a Ping fitter and engineer in Scottsdale, Ariz. Knous is no stranger to big stages. In 2018, he graduated from the Korn Ferry Tour to earn his PGA Tour card for 2019-20; in his first start that season, at the Safeway Open, he shot a pair of 69s on the weekend to tie for 10th. The rest of the season, though, was tougher sledding — eight missed cuts in 17 starts — and, after finishing 166th in the FedEx standings, Knous was relegated.

When three years later he clawed his way back to the Tour, Knous finished even further down the FedEx rank (189th). After injuries and two more years of trying to return to the promised land, Knous decided the vagabond life wasn’t for him. He craved stability and more time around his wife Heidi and their three children, and never adjusted to the solitary lifestyle on Tour. Knous, who studied mechanical engineering at the Colorado School of Mines, took his talents to Ping; he has maintained his professional status but has been focusing his competitive energy on more a local level.

There are scores of Jim Knous’ who every year try to qualify for the U.S. Open: journeymen, dreamers, just-past-their-primers with enough game to still be dangerous on any given day. Most — actually, nearly all of them — come up empty. Of the record 10,202 players who entered local qualifying for Oakmont, only 908 advanced to one of the 13 final qualifiers. From that group, just 16 of the local qualifiers punched their tickets to the Open, some of whom had to fight off major champions and multiple-time PGA Tour winners to get there.

This year marked Knous’ ninth run at qualifying; he’d been 0-for-8. He cruised through his local qualifier, at the Estancia Club in Scottsdale last month, shooting a three-under 69 to grab one of the four spots. When he arrived in Columbus several days ago, he was still feeling good about his game. Funny thing about golf, the less you obsess and grind over your mechanics, often the better you play, whether you’re a 25-handicap or a plus-5. “Just kind of going out and freewheeling,” Knous said. “Something about that — I almost wonder if I’m playing better than I did when I was as a full-time pro.” He added, “There’s not really much on my mind, and maybe that’s a good thing.”

Surely somewhere in the recesses of Knous’ brain, though, was the reality that he never has played in the Open, or any major, period. And you certainly could not have blamed him for getting ahead of himself when he arrived on his 13th hole of the day — Kinsale’s 210-yard par-3 4th — in fine position at two under par.

“A little 5-iron, a little bit into a soft breeze,” is how Knous described his next swing. “We actually couldn’t really see the green, couldn’t see where the hole was. There was kind of a steep edge to the green to the right and behind the pin. I hit a nice shot, it was going at the flag, but I just kind of figured it may have been too much club.”

It was, in fact, the perfect club. He’d jarred it. Four under through 13.

“Right then I said, oh, this is my day. This is bound to happen when stuff like that happens. You kind of let your mind go like that for a little bit. But then, yeah, I kind of had to lock back in.”

***

KNOUS PLAYED THE NEXT five holes in even to sign for a 68. Another round like that — heck, even a 70 would have sufficed — and he’d be bound for Oakmont. In the afternoon round, starting on the first hole, Knous’ sheen began to fade; he bogeyed the par-3 he’d aced in the morning and made the turn in 38 to drop to three under on the day. Fatigue was catching up to him and his swing was deserting him. Knous ate what he could and guzzled electrolytes.  

When he birdied 11 and 13, though, he was back in excellent position. Eric van Rooyen the stylish two-time PGA Tour winner, was lapping the field (he’d finish at 13 under), but it seemed clear by that point that six under would get in while the five-unders would be destined for a playoff.  

After a bogey on 14 dropped him back to four under, Knous said, “I kind of knew what I needed to do from there. I knew I needed to probably play the last four in at least one under.”

He parred the par-4 15th and made an up-and-down birdie at the par-5 16th. At the par-3 17th, he missed an 18-foot birdie try from above the hole. By this point Knous knew exactly what he needed to do: birdie the par-4 closer for his first-ever U.S. Open start, par it for a place in a playoff or — well, it was probably best not to consider any other potential outcomes.

Elite players have an uncanny knack for remembering not only their scores on every hole but the flight of every shot, the roll of every putt, the cut of the rough, the grain of the green, the strength of the wind. And so here, we shall cede the floor to the honorable golfer from Colorado.   

“Eighteen was tricky,” Knous began. “Par-4 — just a tough, tough tee ball with a big old tree on the right side. I draw the ball so it just naturally does not look good to my eye. So I’m trying to loft it over the trees, pulled it a little bit left into the rough, kind of in an awkward spot. I kind of had to try to hook it around a tree, which out of the rough never, never works too well, obviously, hard to curve it out of rough. Slightly mishit it, so that put me just too short of the green and tricky little chip. Actually, hit it just perfect. Halfway to the hole, I thought it might go in, but then it kind of just tailed off to the right. Really tough pin location.”

Knous had left himself about 3 feet.

“Now, I just stuck to my routine for that short putt. I read it, I had a solid read, I put the line left edge, and I thought it was going to curve pretty good. I might have hit it a fraction harder than I would have liked. Maybe that’s adrenaline, maybe that’s nerves. Who knows?”

***

YOU PROBABLY HAVE DEDUCED where this is going. If Knous had holed the putt, this wouldn’t really be a story. Well, it would be. But just a very different kind of story — one of perseverance and grit and a lifelong dream fulfilled. This tale has no such happy ending. And yet Knous’ account of his day is still riveting and instructive, because without heartbreak, there is no glory, and without pain no joy. Knous knows that. So does every other golfer who has played for trophies and paychecks. The upper rungs of competitive golf can reward players in spectacular ways, but more often it kicks them in the teeth.  

“I was shocked that I didn’t make it,” Knous continued. “I’d been so solid on those three- to five-footers all day.”

As Knous’ ball slipped by the hole, his body language spoke volumes. He raised his putter shaft to the brim of his cap and leaned into it. He lowered his putter blade and tapped it against the green as if to scold the surface that had defied him. As Knous rested his right hand on his waist, his eyes remained glued to the ground. He couldn’t bear to look up.   

It’s a delicate conversation, asking a golfer of Knous’ pedigree what defeat and disappointment feel like. Most of us know the sensation on the weekend-hacker level — making a double on 18 to lose a $10 Nassau, chunking a wedge shot to lose a buddies-trip match — but missing a 3-footer with a U.S. Open spot on the line? That’s a different grade of sting.

“I was pretty crushed in the moment,” Knous said. “It obviously would have been a difficult playoff to get through with all those amazing players. But, of course, as a player myself, I want to be in that playoff.”

He continued: “I was nervous. It had been a while since I’ve been in a situation like that. I think the other — I don’t want to say unfortunate thing, but circumstantial thing, was the fact that I was in the last group, and that putt did mean a lot to me and to other people who were in that playoff. All eyes were on me, there was a big gathering there at the clubhouse on the 18th green, everybody’s watching, the camera’s on. Just a lot of pressure that can make you do funny things.”

Knous has been teaching part time at a golf academy near his Scottsdale home. He counsels his students about how to manage nerves. Get your routine, practice it hard, stick to it. “And when the pressure comes,” he said, “that’s all you can lean on.”

Sometimes the crutch breaks, other times it holds. When Knous was chasing his PGA Tour card at the Korn Ferry Tour Finals in 2018, he came to the final hole knowing he needed to make par. After hitting his approach to 50 feet, he lagged his birdie try to 6 feet and buried his ensuing attempt. “Probably the putt where I’ve felt the most pressure,” Knous says now.

Columbus, he said, was up there, too.

“This one will haunt me for a while,” Knous said. “Hopefully just get over it over with time.”

***

KNOUS WILL TELL YOU the sun came up the morning after his Columbus qualifier. He himself was up early, too, on the first flight back to Phoenix. By that afternoon, he was at his desk at Ping HQ.

By Wednesday, he’d had some time to process his gut-punch finish. To begin accepting it and looking forward. Asked to describe the challenge of getting through Open qualifying, Knous said it was harder than Monday qualifying for a PGA Tour event, something he’s done twice.       

“It’s really, really difficult,” he said. “I like trying to beat a bunch of Tour players or competing with them. But there’s no doubt, it’s very hard. I feel like I had my A or A+ game all day on Monday and still came up short.”

Knous will try again, of course. Because that’s what he does. On lunch breaks, you’ll often find him on the practice green on Ping’s campus, chipping and putting and generally trying to keep his game sharp. After all, his next go at U.S. Open qualifying is only 11 months away.  

“Maybe the 10th time will be the charm,” he said.