- Joined
- May 8, 2002
- Posts
- 1,170,180
- Reaction score
- 59
Having now reached a certain age, I find myself increasingly thinking about the Third Act. (What age? Somewhere between needing reading glasses to clip my toenails and insisting on double knee braces and a headband while playing somnambulant pickleball.) But a Third Act seems appropriate when we come to the U.S. Open and Shinnecock Hills. You'll recall that a third act is that magical final stretch of a great screenplay where the story resolves itself in a strange and yet wonderfully obvious and still riveting way. Think of “The Shawshank Redemption” or “Parasite” or “Se7en.” (I will never hear the words "What's in the box?!" the same way ever again.)
Look at the story arc for Shinnecock Hills and you see that it now has reached a legacy-defining third act. The venue was a ridiculous success when the U.S. Open returned there in 1986 after a 90-year absence. “Ridiculous” in that taking the U.S. Open to sleepy and exclusive Southampton would be the logistical equivalent of playing the Super Bowl in Red Bay, Ala., and “success” in that the 1986 U.S. Open was an instant classic with 10 different players in the lead during the final round.
But then, as we’ve seen, the U.S. Open setups at Shinnecock Hills lost their way both in 2004 and 2018, so the return this year finds us with this iconic layout looking to find its way back to the right side of history.
A great U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills this week would be a third act of epic proportions.
Indeed, a resounding career third act is just what the first modern U.S. Open at Shinnecock in 1986 brought us. Raymond Floyd, a legendary competitor who won dominant majors throughout his career but was staring at maybe his last best chance for an elusive national title, broke through late in the final round’s back nine to win and become the oldest U.S. Open champion at the time. With his Silver Pages visor pulled down low, his trademark stare gave off heavy Clint Eastwood The Good, The Bad and The Ugly/Dirty Harry vibes ("You have to ask yourself: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?" is not what Floyd said to the glitchy photographer who clicked in the middle of his backswing that afternoon, but it's what I heard.) When he rolled his lag putt on the 18th green to about a foot, the cameras catch Floyd turning that killer glare toward his caddie, flashing a million-dollar wink that would make The Most Interesting Man in the World jealous. (Stay thirsty, my friends.) It was a definitive moment that encapsulated Floyd’s storied career.
Floyd with the iconic wink after clinching the 1986 U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills.
Of course, predicting the appropriate winner for a Shinnecock third act, indeed even believing that a third act is possible at this slip-sliding-away venue, seems a fool’s errand. (Which is also what they’re calling trying to make a dinner reservation at Southampton’s 75 Main this Friday.) Obviously, my major championship predictions seem to epitomize so many fool’s errands because they so often utilize the shakiest of logic, rampant miscalculation and stoner-level guesswork to select a winner. I've even resorted to choosing a winner based on the “right” number of letters in his last name, not once but twice, here and here. I’ve been getting major championship predictions so wrong for so long I’ve started to repeat myself, which of course means I’m more overdue for a third act then an “Avengers” or “Fast & Furious” sequel.
But I couldn’t simply randomly pick some character who epitomizes a third act to be my 2026 U.S. Open champion. Nope. There needs to be some bad math behind it, and my bad math needed to live in Shinnecock and its distinct difficulty as a U.S. Open site. The U.S. Open here is like javelin catching or kangaroo judo or speed chess played while performing bikram yoga. The winner isn’t always draped in one of those marathoners ponchos or receiving an IV transfusion, but feels like he should be. Clearly, someone who should be successful at Shinnecock is someone who knows how to survive the toughest golf courses, someone who thinks the proper way to finish a round of golf is with some internal bleeding and a limp.
More U.S. Open preview stories
Given that, my simple theory is let’s take golf courses over the last five years that have played to a stroke average of at least two shots over par. There aren’t that many (six, all majors), but I figured two was a reasonable number because for Shinnecock’s last two U.S. Opens, the scoring averages were an entirely unreasonable 74.067 and 74.65. That’s on a par 70, making it the hardest course on the PGA Tour in each of those years. (If you don’t understand how hard that is, a player with a 3.0 handicap index would be getting 11 shots at the U.S. Open version of Shinnecock. The last time a 3 was getting 11 shots Yip Strickler went into septic shock.)
There have been 28 players to record a top-five finish at one of the six tournaments where the stroke average for the week was at least two over par. (Those six tournaments: the U.S. Open in 2022, 2024 and 2025, PGA Championships in 2022 and 2023 and the Open Championship in 2024.) Since anybody can get lucky once, I narrowed the field to only those who've recorded top-fives more than once at these brutal layouts. That got me down to seven players: Bryson DeChambeau, Matt Fitzpatrick, Viktor Hovland, Rory McIlroy, Scottie Scheffler, Cameron Young and Will Zalatoris. So, I decided my winning pick must come from this collective, but how to uncover my one winner? How else but by my stoner math?
I took the last winner at Shinnecock, Brooks Koepka, and looked at his statistical ranking heading into the U.S. Open in 2018 in four critical statistical categories: strokes gained/off the tee, greens in regulation, scrambling and three-putt avoidance. His combined total of those rankings was 80, so the player whose current statistical rankings came the closest to 80 will be my pick. While Scheffler has the lowest current total of those rankings, McIlroy came the closest to Koepka’s 80 with a total of 90.
Admittedly, McIlroy doesn’t sound like enough of an insane selection for my taste. But then I was listening to an engaging Fried Egg Golf podcast, and there was McIlroy talking excitedly about the wider fairways at Shinnecock this go-round and how he sees it differently this time, both physically and psychologically, largely because he finds himself in a different, more advanced place now. Back in 2018, he shot 80 at Shinnecock and ended up missing the cut, but now McIlroy craves “the opportunity to win on a true U.S. Open test” and how he’s “evolved my game over the years and brought a way better attitude toward that style of golf.” And then he says it, in a way that sounds a little coy but maybe a little knowing, too, a little bit of an echo of Raymond Floyd: “I think I have three acts in my career … and I think Act Three I can be a little more of that wily veteran.”
Jamie Squire
Who knows if a second U.S. Open and a third major after the age of 36 makes for a McIlroy third act? I’m no Stephen King or David Fincher or Bong Joon Ho, but when the kid we all saw chipping golf balls into a washing machine at age 8, or the mop top dominating majors in his 20s, is now talking about himself as a “wily veteran,” that sounds an awful lot like the third act we’ve all been waiting for. I’ll be looking for that wink.
Continue reading...
Look at the story arc for Shinnecock Hills and you see that it now has reached a legacy-defining third act. The venue was a ridiculous success when the U.S. Open returned there in 1986 after a 90-year absence. “Ridiculous” in that taking the U.S. Open to sleepy and exclusive Southampton would be the logistical equivalent of playing the Super Bowl in Red Bay, Ala., and “success” in that the 1986 U.S. Open was an instant classic with 10 different players in the lead during the final round.
But then, as we’ve seen, the U.S. Open setups at Shinnecock Hills lost their way both in 2004 and 2018, so the return this year finds us with this iconic layout looking to find its way back to the right side of history.
A great U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills this week would be a third act of epic proportions.
Indeed, a resounding career third act is just what the first modern U.S. Open at Shinnecock in 1986 brought us. Raymond Floyd, a legendary competitor who won dominant majors throughout his career but was staring at maybe his last best chance for an elusive national title, broke through late in the final round’s back nine to win and become the oldest U.S. Open champion at the time. With his Silver Pages visor pulled down low, his trademark stare gave off heavy Clint Eastwood The Good, The Bad and The Ugly/Dirty Harry vibes ("You have to ask yourself: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?" is not what Floyd said to the glitchy photographer who clicked in the middle of his backswing that afternoon, but it's what I heard.) When he rolled his lag putt on the 18th green to about a foot, the cameras catch Floyd turning that killer glare toward his caddie, flashing a million-dollar wink that would make The Most Interesting Man in the World jealous. (Stay thirsty, my friends.) It was a definitive moment that encapsulated Floyd’s storied career.
You must be registered for see images attach
Floyd with the iconic wink after clinching the 1986 U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills.
Of course, predicting the appropriate winner for a Shinnecock third act, indeed even believing that a third act is possible at this slip-sliding-away venue, seems a fool’s errand. (Which is also what they’re calling trying to make a dinner reservation at Southampton’s 75 Main this Friday.) Obviously, my major championship predictions seem to epitomize so many fool’s errands because they so often utilize the shakiest of logic, rampant miscalculation and stoner-level guesswork to select a winner. I've even resorted to choosing a winner based on the “right” number of letters in his last name, not once but twice, here and here. I’ve been getting major championship predictions so wrong for so long I’ve started to repeat myself, which of course means I’m more overdue for a third act then an “Avengers” or “Fast & Furious” sequel.
But I couldn’t simply randomly pick some character who epitomizes a third act to be my 2026 U.S. Open champion. Nope. There needs to be some bad math behind it, and my bad math needed to live in Shinnecock and its distinct difficulty as a U.S. Open site. The U.S. Open here is like javelin catching or kangaroo judo or speed chess played while performing bikram yoga. The winner isn’t always draped in one of those marathoners ponchos or receiving an IV transfusion, but feels like he should be. Clearly, someone who should be successful at Shinnecock is someone who knows how to survive the toughest golf courses, someone who thinks the proper way to finish a round of golf is with some internal bleeding and a limp.
More U.S. Open preview stories
You must be registered for see images attach
U.S. Open preview U.S. Open 2026: Your vibes-only guide to the top 41 contenders at Shinnecock Hills
You must be registered for see images attach
Golf Digest Logo U.S. Open 2026: 5 longshot bets I love for Shinnecock Hills
You must be registered for see images attach
Golf Digest Logo U.S. Open 2026: What's a 'good' shot at Shinnecock? These 5 show the difference between our editors and the PGA Tour average Given that, my simple theory is let’s take golf courses over the last five years that have played to a stroke average of at least two shots over par. There aren’t that many (six, all majors), but I figured two was a reasonable number because for Shinnecock’s last two U.S. Opens, the scoring averages were an entirely unreasonable 74.067 and 74.65. That’s on a par 70, making it the hardest course on the PGA Tour in each of those years. (If you don’t understand how hard that is, a player with a 3.0 handicap index would be getting 11 shots at the U.S. Open version of Shinnecock. The last time a 3 was getting 11 shots Yip Strickler went into septic shock.)
There have been 28 players to record a top-five finish at one of the six tournaments where the stroke average for the week was at least two over par. (Those six tournaments: the U.S. Open in 2022, 2024 and 2025, PGA Championships in 2022 and 2023 and the Open Championship in 2024.) Since anybody can get lucky once, I narrowed the field to only those who've recorded top-fives more than once at these brutal layouts. That got me down to seven players: Bryson DeChambeau, Matt Fitzpatrick, Viktor Hovland, Rory McIlroy, Scottie Scheffler, Cameron Young and Will Zalatoris. So, I decided my winning pick must come from this collective, but how to uncover my one winner? How else but by my stoner math?
I took the last winner at Shinnecock, Brooks Koepka, and looked at his statistical ranking heading into the U.S. Open in 2018 in four critical statistical categories: strokes gained/off the tee, greens in regulation, scrambling and three-putt avoidance. His combined total of those rankings was 80, so the player whose current statistical rankings came the closest to 80 will be my pick. While Scheffler has the lowest current total of those rankings, McIlroy came the closest to Koepka’s 80 with a total of 90.
Admittedly, McIlroy doesn’t sound like enough of an insane selection for my taste. But then I was listening to an engaging Fried Egg Golf podcast, and there was McIlroy talking excitedly about the wider fairways at Shinnecock this go-round and how he sees it differently this time, both physically and psychologically, largely because he finds himself in a different, more advanced place now. Back in 2018, he shot 80 at Shinnecock and ended up missing the cut, but now McIlroy craves “the opportunity to win on a true U.S. Open test” and how he’s “evolved my game over the years and brought a way better attitude toward that style of golf.” And then he says it, in a way that sounds a little coy but maybe a little knowing, too, a little bit of an echo of Raymond Floyd: “I think I have three acts in my career … and I think Act Three I can be a little more of that wily veteran.”
You must be registered for see images attach
Jamie Squire
Who knows if a second U.S. Open and a third major after the age of 36 makes for a McIlroy third act? I’m no Stephen King or David Fincher or Bong Joon Ho, but when the kid we all saw chipping golf balls into a washing machine at age 8, or the mop top dominating majors in his 20s, is now talking about himself as a “wily veteran,” that sounds an awful lot like the third act we’ve all been waiting for. I’ll be looking for that wink.
Continue reading...
