Back in the Swing of Things

By Jared Trexler

Even at Pebble Beach, where dark clouds and nagging showers became known as (Bing) "Crosby weather" after the tournament founder, rays of happiness can shine through the clouds of disappointment.

Sunday -- on a picture-postcard afternoon along the Monterrey Peninsula -- with families eating picnics along the shoreline and newlyweds walking hand and hand toward a new day and a new life, Phil Mickelson walked up the 18th hole at the AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am not toward the 30th victory of his career.

Not toward a win so important in the greater context of the golfing world. Not toward a victory that could finally pull the plug on a grandstand, a waste basket and one shot too many at the U.S. Open's 72nd hole.

Rather, he walked toward his family -- two parents who started him in this game, a beautiful wife, two daughters and a son. The congregation referred to by CBS' Jim Nantz as the "Mickelson clan," the uniting force behind son/husband/dad's effervescent personality and unyielding drive for success, waited with open arms.

Just like they have, every single day, since that fateful afternoon at Winged Foot.

Golf's kingdom was preparing to anoint Mickelson its next great champion that day, pushing him out of the shadows of the great and into the conversation of the greatEST.

But, six swipes of a little white ball turned the coronation into a funeral procession. People clapped for Geoff Ogilvy, but the poor Australian deserved better for his first major breakthrough.

All eyes were on Mickelson, waiting for a single tear, one curse word, a hung head. Those same glaring eyes of interest hadn't left his side since that day, scribbling words of worry and writing the beginning stages of his sports obit.

"Golf is a psychological game. It's played between the ears. Some troubling results can never be explained. And the more you look for answers, the more it haunts you. To the point where Mickelson questioned whether it was worth it all."

The naysayers be damned, Mickelson spent the offseason like he always has with Amy and the children. On vacation, in the backyard, at Ruby Tuesday's -- wherever he was, it was with them.

Golf has always been a passion for Mickelson, but he never let his priorities linger from life's greatest major championship.

His family.

Maybe it motivated him to sure up a sloppy long game, resulting in textbook driving all week at Pebble Beach. Maybe it motivated him in the weight room, where the southpaw lost 25 pounds then added some muscle in hopes of maintaining endurance late in the season.

Or maybe, just maybe, it motivated him to keep things in perspective. The golf writers who were in the process of writing his eulogy never took into account how much the sport meant to Phil. Stronger men have succumbed to far simpler circumstances because they felt like they lost it all.

Not Mickelson. "It all," was around him every day. Then he went to play golf.

So, as the beacon of radiance shined on Pebble Beach Sunday, Mickelson walked up the 18th fairway with a smile shining almost as brightly. It wasn't caused by the impending victory, or the return of what was lost.

It was to hug his children and say to Amy, "We did it."

In the end, it was worth it all.

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Jared Trexler is the Golf Writer for The Phanatic Magazine. You can reach him at jtrexler@phanaticmag.com