Phil Mickelson in the Oakmont parking lot after he missed the cut at the U.S. Open.
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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.
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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.
There was 2006, at Winged Foot, and the tee shot off the hospitality tent, and a 72nd-hole double bogey that wiped out a one-shot lead. There was 2004 at Shinnecock — site of next year’s Open — where Mickelson was your leader after 70 holes before he double-bogeyed the 71st. There was 2009 at Bethpage Black — home of this year’s Ryder Cup — where he was your co-leader with five holes to play before he bogeyed the 15th and 17th holes. There was 2013 at Merion, where he played in the final pairing before run of back-nine bogeys doomed him. There was 1999 at Pinehurst No. 2, where Payne Stewart rammed in a putt so memorable a statue was erected, and Mickelson finished second by a shot. In all, Mickelson has finished runner-up an almost unfathomable six times.
On 15 on Friday, after his sublime wedge, Mickelson missed his par putt.
On 15 on Friday, he missed his bogey putt.
Six over.
No sequence was more vintage Mickelson than what went down on 17, a 305-yard par-4 where you go small, hope for a 3, but take a 4 and move on — or throw caution and your iron to the wind. It’s a risk-reward hole, and Mickelson doubled down — and busted. He dropped his tee shot into the downslope of a front bunker, fluffed his second shot into the sand, hit out, then three-putted from 35 feet. Why the big tee shot? Why try to be tricky with that second shot? Always why.
Eight over.
He needed birdie on 18.
After a drive down the right and an iron to 10 feet, he had a chance. A good one. As he waited on the green, thunder sounded and playing partner Brian Harman asked, “Do y’all feel safe?” Mickelson said he did, and putts were struck.
Mickelson’s slid to the right.
About 500 or people, amid rain drops, cheered. He acknowledged them. He went to scoring and exited last. An assembly of reporters waited for a quote — what would he say; what could he say? — but he declined. He walked into player hospitality and his caddie, Jon Yarbrough, carried his bag to Mickelson’s gray courtesy Lexus. There, his team waited. About 10 minutes later, Mickelson walked up, between two officers who could double as stand-ins for the Rock. The rain was pouring now. Mickelson called out for golf balls. None were found.
He dug out some gloves instead. He handed them to the officers, shook their hands and thanked them.
Saluting until the end.
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