‘A lot of tears’: Johnny Miller makes emotional return to U.S. Open, public eye

LOS ANGELES — After Johnny Miller finished his Monday practice round at the 1973 U.S. Open at Oakmont, a mysterious fan approached him by the 18th green and told him he was going to win that week.  

“I’m never wrong,” the woman said, as Miller recalls it. “You don’t have to worry; you’re going to win.”

The next day, she reappeared and relayed the same message. And again on Wednesday. And Thursday. And Friday, too. Even on Saturday, after Miller had posted a third-round 76 that left him a distant six off the lead, his fortune-telling friend was still portending that Miller would prevail.

“I never saw her again after that,” Miller said Wednesday during a press conference at the 123rd U.S. Open. “I was a little bit down on the fact that — not because she wasn’t there, but [because] I was starting to believe her, that I was going to win. I went to the practice tee on Sunday, and I was not very hopeful at all. I wasn’t even a little bit hopeful that I had a chance because I saw the guys that were in front of me on the leaderboard.”

Palmer, Weiskopf, Trevino, Nicklaus, Player. A murderer’s row of contenders.

Miller would need to do something magical, and if you know even only a little golf history, you know that’s exactly what happened next. Miller hit 18 greens in regulation — with 10 of his approach shots stopping within 15 feet of the hole — and needed only 29 putts. On a day when only three other players broke 70, Miller posted a stunning nine-birdie 63 to win by one.

“It was like somebody was helping me up there,” he said, his voice cracking and eyes welling. “It was not a normal round.”

Miller has spoken of that Sunday more times than anyone can count, with detail that rarely lacks for bluster and bravado. There’s a running joke among golf writers that if you want to know how good that round was, just ask Miller. And yet…well, it’s been a while since Miller has revisited that Open in a room full of media. In fact, since he retired from his NBC announcing post in 2019, it’s been a while since we’ve seen him at all.

Instruction

“I’ve been sort of not available for press things since I retired,” he said. “I just wanted to sort of walk away like “Dandy” Don Meredith. Remember how he walked away? I was like, that’s cool.” (Meredith, the star quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys in the 1960s, unexpectedly retired from the NFL before the 1969 season.)

Miller wasn’t drawn up the coast from his Monterey, Calif., home to L.A. this week to regale reporters with tales from Oakmont. He came to receive an honor: the USGA’s Bob Jones Award, which recognizes “an individual who demonstrates the spirit, personal character and respect for the game.” The USGA gave the award to Miller at a dinner Tuesday night, at which Miller said, “There was a lot of good feelings, a lot of emotion, a lot of tears. We brought tears to a lot of people’s eyes, and mine. I was sleeping like a rock this morning. Normally I wake up at 6 a.m. every morning. I think I could have slept until 9. It was emotional.”

Among the speakers who honored Miller was his son Todd, who is the director of golf at Brigham Young University, in Utah. “We’re really tight, the two of us, and he made me sort of break down, in a nice way,” Miller said. “I don’t mind breaking down if it’s from the heart.”

Miller was glassy-eyed for much of his Tuesday press conference, too. Talking golf can do that to the game’s legends. Miller reminisced of learning the game in the basement of his San Francisco home, where his father hung “a bunch of Army surplus World War II canvas” into which young Johnny could beat balls. He credited the hilly courses around his home for helping him to become such a sound iron player. (You had to be able to brush that grass,” he said.) He recalled the best piece of advice he ever heard from Lee Trevino: “If you’re choking, buddy, just hit it low. It doesn’t have time to get off line.”

For a guy who has been reluctant to sit for interviews, he looked and sounded like there was no place else he’d rather be.