OAKMONT, Pa. — Here comes J.J. Spaun, shuffling down metal stairs, U.S. Open trophy in one hand and surrounded by boom mics and cameras. It’s gone dark at Oakmont Country Club, save for the flood lights illuminating the parking lot and the set of Golf Channel’s “Live From,” where Spaun is just now exiting.
He’s tired, but he’s running on adrenaline. It’s been a long day. He was up at 3 a.m., the man tied for third at the U.S. Open, running to CVS to get his daughter medicine. Then there was a rain delay thrown in the middle of 18 grueling holes in the world’s hardest tournament on one of its hardest courses in even harder conditions. He had to deal with a dreadful start to his round, bad breaks and all those major championship nerves. Then he decided the heck with all that, he was going to win the U.S. Open anyway. Now he’s been moving non-stop for the last two-plus hours. A trophy engraving is up next, one of the greatest obligations for the champion of one of golf’s greatest events.
Finally, he asks a question he’s been wondering for a while now.
“What time is it?”
***
INSIDE OAKMONT’S CLUBHOUSE, THEY ARE VACUUMING. This place has been bustling for the past week — with golfers, caddies, members and VIP guests — but now it’s eerily quiet and the vacuums hum along from a couple of rooms away.
It’s 10 p.m., and J.J. Spaun sits in a chair behind two massive oak doors with white trim. He’s going through the gauntlet of interviews with USGA rights-holders — first TSN, then CNN, followed by ESPN and SiriusXM. A USGA staffer watches the live ESPN hit from their phone, 15 feet away.
Since Spaun made his U.S. Open-winning putt a few minutes after 8 p.m. — a 64-footer for birdie that gave him a two-shot victory over Robert MacInytre — it’s been a tiring, chaotic blast. The good type of busy.
First came the 18th-green trophy presentation, followed by NBC and rights-holder interviews on the green. He then posed for photos before hopping into a golf cart and conducting a press conference with the writers.
“It’s definitely like a storybook, fairytale ending, kind of underdog fighting back, not giving up, never quitting,” he told them. “With the rain and everything and then the putt, I mean, you couldn’t write a better story.”
Thirty minutes later he was back in the cart, trophy and Modelo in tow, returning to the 18th green. A dozen photographers were waiting for him, killing time by snapping shots of a USGA staffer to get the lighting just right.
More photos followed — with the USGA, with Oakmont members, with his family (his wife, Melody, and their two daughters), his agent, caddie, coaches and friends. Some security guards, nearing the end of their week-long shift, gathered on the green for front-row seats.
Johnson Wagner stood nearby, waiting to reenact Spaun’s 72nd-hole putt for TV. At 9:30 p.m., the green cleared, Wagner was on, and Spaun disappeared into the clubhouse for the TV hits. At 10:10 p.m. he emerged from the room and was led to the “Live From” set, where he flanked Rich Lerner, Brandel Chamblee and Paul McGinley.
Four workers, taking a break from clean-up duty, stood on their tip-toes to steal a glimpse.
***
THESE POST-WIN ITINERARIES ARE SIMPLY GUIDES. There’s room to go off script. Like when Bryson DeChambeau won the U.S. Open last year, he wasted no time getting to New York City for the media tour, flying through the night.
Sometimes you have to leave room for spontaneity, like when the trophy presentation ended on Sunday night, right before the ever-important U.S. Open rights-holder one-on-ones were to start. Instead of jumping into his next set of interviews, Spaun walked briskly to the far end of the 18th green, and he walked alone. This was not scheduled.
A USGA official — in an effort to keep dozens of people with agendas and jobs to do informed — narrated the scene for photographers, cameramen and media: “He is just saying hi to his dad.”
John Spaun, wearing a black 2025 Masters hat, has been here all week. He walked 18 holes on Sunday. He flew in from Arizona and tries to watch his son play in the majors and most of the west coast events. He knew his son was special when he was just 7 years old, when J.J. had a beautiful, inside-out swing. A gift from God, John called it.
Twenty-seven years later, that gift had delivered John a present.
“As soon as he was walking toward me with that trophy, I just lost it,” John says. “Tears. I just couldn’t hold it in.”
John, like J.J., never lost hope Sunday, even after J.J. bogeyed five of his first six holes. His son always comes back, he said, so he wasn’t surprised when J.J. birdied four of his last seven as his competition fell apart. Throughout the last decade there had been lots of ups and downs — J.J. battling, and then managing, Type 1 diabetes; losing his Tour card; and even last year, when he thought his time as a pro golfer was running out — but this moment made the journey worth the ride. John told his son he was proud of him.
They hugged, and it lasted several long seconds; John closed his eyes, as if to engrain a memory forever. His eyes welled up and he kissed his son on the cheek. From the grandstands behind them, a man yelled, “Happy Father’s Day!”
It’s unclear which Spaun they were shouting to, but it didn’t matter. A few minutes later, John held one of J.J.’s two daughters and told her how amazing her father was.
“Daddy won,” she told her grandfather. “He has a trophy now.”
