A Power Trio Rocks the Open

SAN DIEGO

By the time the three best golfers in the world had played a few holes on Thursday, the ominous early-morning mist off the Pacific, called the "June Gloom" here, had burned away and a Southern California surf's-up sun in a cloudless sky set the thermostat at 70 degrees. Thus perfection, or at least golf's version, was achieved here at the U.S. Open.

Tiger Woods, fresh off knee surgery and wincing in pain after one 360-yard drive, walked the fairways side by side, though almost never speaking, with Phil Mickelson, the hometown hero who played his high school matches here at glorious Torrey Pines. In the sidecar was Australian heartthrob Adam Scott, hampered by a broken right pinkie, a gift from a friend who slammed a car door on his hand two weeks ago.

The scorecard will show that they shot 72, 71 and 73, respectively, and that all three, in different ways, seemed far enough off their games that their chances here are not as sublime as their world rankings. Tiger is rusty, under interrogation, and admits the pain has him playing with gritted teeth. Mickelson is so wild off the tee that, for the first time in his career, he played a round without a driver in his bag. Then his 3-wood wouldn't behave. And Scott, who can't buy a putt, says his hand is "pretty miserable."

Nevertheless, their day together was pure electricity for the huge crowds that chased the trio along the bluffs and barrancas. After Mickelson birdied the 13th and 14th holes, one fan bellowed: "Come on, Phil. This is your house."

But Woods's troops were legion, too. When Tiger's tee shot at the 177-yard eighth hole seemed to have stopped absolutely, the crowd kept chanting "go, go, go" until the ball took one tiny turn, then drew slowly back down a slope 20 feet to the shadow of the flagstick to set up a birdie. "We did that for him," one little boy said in the stands, convinced of his new powers, perhaps for life.

Finally, the golf world has figured out how to make the first two days of the U.S. Open almost as exciting as the weekend rounds usually are: send out the dozen best players in the world rankings in four threesomes, forced to play eyeball-to-eyeball on Thursday and Friday. Let the current cream of the crop feel the heat of the competition right from the first shot.

In a sport where the greatest of the great are paired together far too seldom in the biggest events, the U.S. Golf Association deserves cheers. Admitting that goes against my religion (common sense). After all, this is the same outfit that also gives us, if two players are tied after Sunday's fourth round, an anachronistic 18-hole playoff here Monday before a crowd of 73 spouses and relatives. If that ends in a tie, there's a one-hole playoff. See the logic? The USGA does. But give credit, it got this 1-2-3 gimmick right. TV loves it. But so do galleries. And everybody here felt it.

"To tee off at 8 o'clock and have this many people out here, I was pretty impressed," Mickelson said of crowds that rivaled the 2:30 p.m. Sunday throngs at most U.S. Opens. " I'm so proud because this is my home town and everybody out there was so respectful. No derogatory remarks. Everybody was real cool. I was proud to be from here."

Derogatory remarks, in the land of the lotus eaters? How do you get hostile here? They've got a nudist beach down below the fourth green. If you over-club on the 3rd, 7th, 12th or 16th hole, the next dirt is in Hawaii. But the air is so clear you could see your ball land.

This setting may have helped the Big Three keep their sanity on a day when -- occasionally -- they produced amazingly bad shots. Once, Mickelson attempted a 250-yard shot from the rough and, with a mighty swing, moved the ball just eight feet. Then, same club, same rough, he knocked the ball on the center of the green. Right on, Tin Cup.