As The Players resumed, players met with hostile wind and many water balls on 17
PONTE VEDRA BEACH, Fla. – If there’s any consolation: Few people saw the carnage.
Gates here at TPC Sawgrass opened at noon, and it took the masses a few minutes to trickle in, navigate the muddy, saturated hill, and claim their spot behind the rope line at one of the most daunting par 3s in the world.
After two days of marathon delays and nearly five inches of rain, the first round of The Players had finally resumed, and – what a coincidence! – some of the marquee groups were working their way through the course’s watery finish.
There was Jordan Spieth, on the 17th green, surveying a par putt.
There was Brooks Koepka, on the 16th green, chucking his putter after a par-5 bogey.
There was Rory McIlroy, in the 16th fairway, ready to let fly from 200-plus yards away.
But the 17th tee is the most diabolical shot on the course, even in the most benign conditions.
Typically, players are concerned about controlling the spin and their nerves. For the first two days, there’d been virtually no wind on the 146-yarder, with players mostly deciding between pitching wedge and 9-iron into this hole tucked onto the back shelf of this rain-softened green. Only four players had found the water; then-tournament leader Harold Varner III was the first to get wet, ripping his wedge off the front of the green and making triple.
But … this was not like the first two days.
A cold, northwesterly wind, gusting to 39 mph, howled over the hospitality tents, across the pond and smack into the players’ faces.
Sometimes, it felt like it was straight into; other times, it was coming from a 10 o’clock direction. On a hole with dire consequences, these were professional guesses.
First to the tee amid this new normal was Scottie Scheffler, winner of two of his past three events and cruising yet again, 5 under through his first 16 holes, just one shot off the lead. It was early, but the scenario seemed very much in play: A Players win, and some help, would vault him to No. 1 in the world.
As Scheffler sorted through his options, the wind stiffened, causing the tent behind the tee to creak. He and caddie Ted Scott decided on 7-iron. Having grown up in the Texas winds, Scheffler has a lower-than-most ball flight, and he drove his ball confidently into the breeze. It appeared a good strike from the tee, but his ball bounced on the back shelf. Then bounced again. And then dove over the back, into the water.
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Scheffler smiled. Maybe he knew that there’d be more.
Xander Schauffele was next. Spooked, he went with 8-iron, while his caddie held a 7-iron in his hand. Almost immediately after impact came the pleading.
“Go,” he implored. “GO!”
Splash. This time, short.
In stepped Brooks Koepka, who, at his best, hits famously pure strikes – right on the screws, it can sound like gunfire. He, too, chose 8-iron, hoping to trap it into the wind.
Again, water, short – probably a 40-yard difference from Scheffler’s original watery tee ball. The star-studded group played the hole in a combined 4 over.
Here came the next wave of studs: McIlroy, defending champion Justin Thomas and world No. 2 Collin Morikawa.
After watching the mess up ahead, Morikawa selected 7-iron and settled over his shot – but backed off. His caddie, J.J. Jakovac, brought over the bag, usually a sign that the caddie prefers a different club. Given a few reassurances, Morikawa settled into his address again – and then backed off, again, this time at Jakovac’s urging.
“You need that wind,” Jakovac said, waiting for another gust. “I like what we’re doing.”
But Morikawa – regarded as perhaps the game’s preeminent ball-striker – couldn’t master this challenge. His tee shot got hammered by the wind and hit the bulkhead short of the island green.
“Let’s go, Rory!” the crowd tepidly cheered as McIlroy walked in next.
At this point, even the sadists were cringing. Four shots, four water balls – from four of the best players in the world. It was starting to feel unfair. Maybe even unplayable.
Pound for pound, McIlroy is perhaps the longest hitter on Tour, but on this quaint par 3, even he grabbed 7-iron – usually his 190-yard club. His ball rode the wind, barely carried the front and trickled onto the right edge of the green. A mini-roar rang out, but McIlroy grimaced. It was a poor shot, and even though he was dry, he’d left himself in a dreadful position: 54 feet away, over a ridge, into the wind. He’d three-putt for bogey.
Last to go was Justin Thomas, who had seen all he needed. He nicely flighted his 7-iron, to 22 feet. A fist bump from Bones. A routine par.
As the group walked ahead, NBC Sports spotter Jeff Young hung back and glanced at his clipboard. He’d been in this role, on this hole, for more than 20 years, and he’d never seen this. He couldn’t recall ever scribbling down more than two 7-irons – and in the first two groups alone, there’d been four.
That was the club of choice for Billy Horschel, too, but only after a spirited debate with caddie Mark “Fooch” Fulcher.
“We’re planning on [1]60, 60 to [1]65,” Horschel said. Fulcher concurred.
But even into a stiff breeze, Horschel’s tee ball sliced through the wind, barely affected. Like Scheffler’s tee shot before him, Horschel found the water long.
“That’s over the green, Foochy!” Horschel growled. “I knew it, man. I knew it.”
Fulcher stared straight ahead.
“I told you I flight it better than everybody else. I just f—ing said it, too.”
Horschel wound up making triple bogey.
In the first three groups, there’d already been more water balls than the first few days combined – with the promise of many, many more the rest of the afternoon, even from 136 yards, 10 yards closer than Round 1.
Justin Rose found dry land, but only after a few tense moments caused him to put his hands on his knees. Max Homa was safe too, but only after his caddie told him to back off: “Don’t hit till you’re committed, Max. Take your time.” J.T. Poston made par, but only after he returned to his bag and put his hands together in mock prayer. (A few minutes later, he’d make triple on 18.)
Of the players spinning through first, Marc Leishman (8-iron) stuffed it the closest: 7 feet, and on the proper shelf. Seeing his good fortune, he turned to the crowd and pumped his fist, then delivered an uppercut.
“Leeeeeeisssshhhhhhh!” they hollered. Poston’s caddie, Aaron Flener, clapped.
It was wild and weird and amusing, but the shot wasn’t impossible. Ten players found the water. Eleven did not.
By now, the sun was out, the hillside was filling up, and the drinks were flowing again. On this day, they cheered not so much for birdies – but for survival. And for the chaotic first hour, that was a 50-50 proposition.