A time traveler at the U.S. Women’s Open shows us something special

ERIN, Wis. — Everywhere you look at Erin Hills, there’s Sandra Palmer.

On Wednesday, she’s on the NBC set for a pre-tournament interview. On Tuesday, she’s at the head of the room, dishing advice to the 26 amateurs in the field. On Thursday morning, she’s rummaging through the spectators just off the 9th green, all by herself, a white draw-string slung over her back, filled with everything she’d need for a day watching golf.

Palmer is 82 but moves like someone half her age. She has no problem getting her 10,000 steps. Two hours after we first cross paths on Thursday, I find her on the driving range, peering down at Gaby Lopez’ swing. Behind Palmer and maybe 40 feet away is a massive, black-and-white poster of her younger self. She’s rocking that feathered shag cut that was popular in 1975, when she won this tournament at age 32. 

“50 years?” she asks aloud, to me and anyone else who might be listening, laughing about that seemingly impossible passage of time. Half a century ago, she lifted the trophy at Atlantic City Country Club in New Jersey. Another illustration of all that’s happened since: the club has changed hands numerous times in that half-century, all while Palmer keeps doing her thing. “I think a casino bought it,” she said. (She’s right — Caesars owned it until 2014.) 

Palmer won the 30th U.S. Women’s Open, this week is the 80th. The event is a study in career arcs. 

Instruction

Improve your aim (& swing) with a simple practice tweak from the U.S. Women's Open

By: Zephyr Melton

There’s Lexi Thompson, who teased retirement at last year’s U.S. Women’s Open, her 18th time playing this event, at just 29 years old. She should be a past champion — having gifted the trophy away multiple times — but she’s not. So now she’s 30 and competing for a 19th time. (There’s no way she quits before her 20th.)

In Thompson’s Thursday group is Nelly Korda, who was reminded this week that, despite being just 26, she’s already played this tournament 10 times. 

“Jeez,” Korda said, her eyes widening for a split second. In a few years she’ll have competed here for half of her life. 

There are always more amateurs at this event than its male equivalent, which means it serves as a launching point for golf careers before they really feel like golf careers. Lucy Li was just 11 when she played in 2014, with her pigtails, those red, white and blue outfits, and her post-round ice cream treats. She’s not in the field this week, but she’s 78th in the world now, already playing her third season on the LPGA Tour. 

Asterisk Talley is just 16, which means she was 15 last year when she dallied with contention. She earned a healthy dose of the spotlight that week and went viral for her bubbly nature. Now, after a year full of interviews, maturation and a steady rise up the amateur ranks, she handles Q&As like a seasoned vet. Her pre-tournament press conference wasn’t nearly as fun, but that’s the point. She’ll be a professional before long. 

There’s an old golf-writing trope that goes, 156 players in the field means 156 different stories. Here it feels like 156 different trajectories. They go from amateurs to pros to contenders to winners. Maybe later they become broadcasters and Hall of Famers. Erin Hills has started the process even earlier, bringing in juniors from 10 local schools to volunteer on the back of the driving range all week, dishing out ProV1s to people they’ve only seen on TV.

There goes Amari Avery, who starred in the 2013 documentary, The Short Game, at 8 years old. Now she’s 20, a professional, and she’s just shot a one-under 71 that featured a mid-round TV interview. There on the range is Yani Tseng, who won her first major before any of these high schoolers could even read. The Tseng they see on the range this week still has that timeless, athletic swing, with no signs of the decade of toiling she crossed to get here this week. Rather, all we’ve seen of Tseng is child-like giddiness about just how big the U.S. Women’s Open has become. She walked the grounds with her mother this week, gawking at the buildout of offerings the USGA has invested in. A Wellness Den, a Player Gym, a Therapy Center, Team Hospitality, a Caddie Lounge, a fragrance-filled dining area with mood lighting that only players have access to.

“We got everything,” Tseng said. “It was so different than nine years ago; we had nothing. Now it’s … I feel like a kid. This is so new to me.”

Think of what it looks like to Palmer! Maybe that’s why she’s bouncing around from place to place, soaking it all in, driving her own courtesy car and parking in a reserved, past-champion parking space. She was headed to the on-site USGA museum experience when I saw her Thursday morning, and I had to step in her path. This time a year ago, I watched her be inducted into the World Golf Hall of Fame at Pinehurst. She didn’t just walk out on stage that night; she bounded, both hands high, waving to the crowd. I’d never quite seen such energy come from someone in golf, but her words matched the bounce. She holds a true zest for the sport. The kind that makes you want to go hit the range yourself.

We had a nice chat Thursday morning, though I kept it brief. She had places to go! But before we parted ways she dug out a business card from that draw-string bag. On the back is the logo of the World Golf Hall of Fame, same on the pin she wears on her chest every single day. Listed on the front of the card are the two major championships she won, and beneath that, the words Teaching Professional. She still gives lessons a couple times a week back home in Palm Springs. A career arc that never stopped bending.

“It’s not my favorite thing to do,” she said, shrugging, “but it is nice helping people enjoy this game.”