Mickelson: Humble or Eddie Haskell?

Life is intrinsically unfair, and we were reminded of that again Thursday when Phil Mickelson, with that endearing, maddening aw-shucks manner of his, hit a 4-wood to within eight feet of the cup on his last hole of the morning.

You know and I know he can pull off that shot more often than most pros, or at least can slap a 4-wood 270 yards whenever he wants to, but he lets us feel as if we’re part of it and that, shrug, he’s as surprised as the rest of us by the result.

“I think there’s a big element of luck for a 4-wood to get close like that,” he said.

Is this guy for real or is his humility one of the great performances of our time? It really doesn’t matter. He can do no wrong. He can absolutely throw away the U.S. Open, as he did several weeks ago, and everybody loves him anyway. Maybe they love him more because of it. Maybe in that failure they saw a human being human.

On Thursday at the Western Open, Mickelson maneuvered his way through 18 holes of love, shooting a 4-under 67 and taking in the adulation of a gallery that couldn’t get enough of him.

“Fun,” Mickelson called his first round, and who could argue? He almost holed that 4-wood on the par-5 ninth hole and had to “settle” for an eagle.

As he walked around Cog Hill, Mickelson had the usual look on his face that said, “Jeepers, I don’t know how I fell into this incredible talent, but I love you people!”

By comparison, someone like, oh, I don’t know, Tiger Woods, often has a look on his face that says, “I’d like you to meet my caddie, Steve Williams. It’s all I can do to stop him from breaking your fingers.”

If Mickelson can do no wrong, Woods does everything right. Understand the difference. Woods is precision and discipline. He’s 18 holes of creative tension.

Phil is cute and cuddly, all touchy-Pheely. He’s the petting zoo. Tiger is the animal in a cage. You don’t want to get your hands too close to the bars.

And if Woods were standing in front of you, you might have this vague feeling you have to apologize for admiring Mickelson. Maybe it has something to do with liking the goody-goody, or, worse, with fearing that you very well could be liking the Eddie Haskell of golf.

Or maybe it’s that Tiger is a guy’s guy, and Phil is everybody’s guy.

Mickelson signed autographs for at least 20 minutes after his round Thursday. People tried any number of ways to get his attention so they could get his signature.

“Phil, I’m a lefty too.”

“Phil, I hurt my leg yesterday, I’m handicapped.”

“Phil, I love you.”

Woods gets similar treatment, of course. The connection between him and his fans is different though. They seem to like their love tough.

The average Mickelson fan will say: “I waited for Phil to hit his second shot on 15. That’s when I said, ‘Good luck.’ And he said – and I want to make sure I’m quoting the man exactly here – ‘Thanks.'”

The average Woods fan will say: “I waited for Tiger to hit his second shot on 15. That’s when I said, ‘Good luck.’ And that’s when Steve Williams began bending back my fingers. Such sweet pain!”