Golf Fans Want Stars Coronated at Majors, but They Got an Underdog Story at the British Open
A guy known only to the most passionate sector of golf fans wins the British Open by six shots, his first victory anywhere in six years. He sleeps on the lead back-to-back nights but gives nothing back on the weekend, maintaining safe distance from a half-dozen or so bigger names. He makes a couple of early bogeys Saturday and Sunday, restores the margin immediately, then grinds his way to the Claret Jug without anyone getting closer than four strokes.
It wasn’t sexy or even remotely suspenseful, and it certainly wasn’t among the hundred or so major championships consecrated as one for the ages. With the highly unlikely Brian Harmon thrust into the role of golden goose, Royal Liverpool laid an egg—a notion validated by what are sure to be the lowest Nielsen ratings from this tournament since NBC began televising it in 2016. Since ESPN leapt out of its contract with the R&A a year early, no apologies necessary, no parachute required.
Given how the British has always drawn the smallest U.S. audiences of the four majors, neither fault nor blame can adequately ascertain why this particular goose earns nothing more than a passing gander. Harman comes across as a likable chap. A humble family man who was born and raised in Georgia, which certainly matters to his fellow Americans. He also played his ass off, which doesn’t always count for much in a game where the best of the best are rock stars and all the other tour pros block our view of the stage.
In every other sport, upsets are a glorious thing. A reason to celebrate, a reason to believe. The NCAA men’s basketball tournament built a zillion-dollar industry out of Cinderella’s constant presence. When Buster Douglas beat up Mike Tyson 33 years ago on the other side of the globe, Planet Earth stopped turning long enough for everyone to grasp the infinitesimal possibility that a 42-to-1 underdog could demolish such an indestructible foe.
Super Bowl III. The 1990 World Series. There was no ticker-tape parade when Y.E. Yang beat Tiger Woods at the 2009 PGA Championship, not even in Yang’s living room. Golf loves its divine conquerors, so when they fail to get the job done and some mystery guest walks off with one of its sacred trophies, it’s almost like he should be arrested for shoplifting. There is no joy in Mudville. The mighty Casey is five back with four to play.
Not that it should or shouldn’t be that way; it’s just different. After getting roasted for what many viewers considered blatant partiality toward Rory McIlroy at last month’s U.S. Open, NBC seemed to catch the drift this time around. Perhaps Harman led by so much for so long that it would have been ludicrous to see him falling apart on Sunday, as lead analyst Paul Azinger noted in offering some substance to the scenario.
“He’s the kind of guy that if you handed him a pocket knife and a book of matches and sent him off into the jungle, you’d find him a month later doing just fine,” Azinger quipped as the third round drew to a close.
After Jon Rahm barged into the picture with a Saturday 63, Azinger unleashed another beauty the next morning, informing viewers that the 43 rounds of 63 or better in major-championship history were followed up with an average score of 71. No surprise there—going that low anywhere is hard enough to do once—and not exactly testimony that someone would post such a crazy number in a final-round downpour and 25 mph breeze.
Rahm had blistered Royal Liverpool but was still five shots back with just one lousy day to make up the difference. He didn’t come close. Sir Nick Faldo, a surprise addition to NBC’s coverage in that he retired from CBS just 11 months ago, made it perfectly clear at the top of the Sunday telecast that he expected someone to apply heat on Harman. This wasn’t the 1996 Masters, however, nor did the little lefthander possess the immense competitive scar tissue that Greg Norman had accumulated before Faldo lapped him in that infamous final round 27 years ago.
The champion golfer never budged. No final-round charge materialized, at which point you could almost hear millions of viewers across the nation asking their kids where they hid the remote. The final chapter of NBC’s summer showcase was a yawner to most, a predictable reaction in that half of America was just waking up, but that’s golf. Decorated superstars are widely perceived as the most popular winners. Nice guys like Harman may not finish last, as baseball’s Leo Durocher once said, but they rarely end up higher than T7, either.
“In the power era, it’s refreshing to see accuracy matter,” Azinger summarized as the engraver scrawled Harman’s name onto the Jug. “Precision has beaten power. He stayed away from all the bad misses. He’s been magical around the greens.”
There’s an element of sadness to it all, how a humble and hard-working foot soldier can turn in the performance of his life and not become a household name by sundown. How Rory McIlroy can complete his ninth consecutive season without claiming a fifth major, leaving him nine more months to contemplate the burden that accompanies such a drought. How the author of this lopsided triumph can walk up the 18th fairway one last time and hear only minimal applause, further proof that it’s awfully hard to clap when you’re holding an umbrella.
Most significantly, how a country acclaimed as the Land of Opportunity can fall back asleep while the final round of the game’s oldest tournament limps to an undramatic conclusion. Harman obviously did his job. And for the most part NBC did, too, its late arrival to Rickie Fowler’s triple-bogey party Thursday afternoon notwithstanding. The angry Twitterverse kicked into gear when Fowler’s 8 at the 18th was not sufficiently documented, much less shown live, which kind of makes sense in the grand scheme of it all.
If Fowler had won the 151st British Open and Harman was the player making a mess of the final hole, you think anyone would have noticed?