OAKMONT, Pa. — He dropped his head maybe an inch, smiled, then pinched together his thumb and index finger and raised them toward his forehead. His first and last names had just been announced from a microphone, and now he was performing a bit of choreography that was as synonymous with his brand as his southpaw swing.
A Phil Mickelson hat tip, in all its cheesy glory.
“Is that Phil?” a spectator asked both rhetorically and fanatically.
“There’s Phil,” another fan shouted.
Some things never change. But nothing lasts forever. There Mickelson was last week, too, at LIV Golf’s Virginia event, where he was asked whether he’d thought about what was at stake this week, at the U.S. Open at Oakmont Country Club. Four years ago, and days short of his 51st birthday, he’d won the PGA Championship, earning him five more invites to the one major he maddeningly hadn’t claimed among his six.
But in 2026, he’ll run dry.
Was this it then?
“I haven’t thought about it too much,” Mickelson said, before adding, “There’s a high likelihood that it will be.”
That matter largely hinges on whether Mickelson, who has had a contentious relationship with the United States Golf Association, will be extended invites. On Wednesday, John Bodenhamer, the USGA’s chief championships officer, said neither yes nor no, meaning we were left to ponder whether this week was a goodbye or the goodbye? Arnold Palmer received a proper national championship sendoff at Oakmont, but with Mickelson things are more complicated. His move to LIV Golf has made him deeply polarizing; he believes he’s growing the game, while others point to division and Saudi money.
But you always get the hat tip. Or a thumbs-up. Sometimes one right after the other. The salutes let you in. A superman for every man, woman and child. Friday here, in the wake of his opening four-over 74, it seemed perhaps this story would be composed Sunday night. On the par-5 4th, Mickelson stuffed a wedge to 15 inches. On the par-4 11th, after bogeys on 7 and 8, he rolled in a 14-footer. But no shot was more vintage Phil than his third on 15, which followed a funky fairway metal from the rough (of course) and a request to a nearby LIV Golf cameraman to stop moving (of course). He finessed a wedge to about 100 feet short of its target, then watched his ball trickle to 12 feet. At that point, Mickelson was four over for the tournament, three within the cutline.
For every thumbs-up with Mickelson, there’s also a thumb to the eye, though. We play golf for its casino-like tease — you’ve won a bet before, so you should win again, and Mickelson always seems to hit on 20. But dance with the devil long enough and you go straight to golf hell. With Mickelson, you need look no further than the U.S. Open for examples.
