Say what you mean
“If it wasn’t for two guys then this would be a great tournament!” Rory McIlroy says on Saturday night what everyone else is thinking. With two exceptions.

I predict a riot
It will finally dawn on Ricky Barnes, the world’s 519th best golfer, that he is leading the 109th US Open and not the John Deere Classic. He was already looking twitchy late Saturday. “I wanted to compete this week but I don’t think you come in this week thinking you are going to win.” Hmm, that doesn’t sound like the positive mind-set that players always talk about. Brown trousers could be a good choice for Sunday.

Reasons to be cheerful
“Woo-hoo!” as Blur used to sing. A golf tournament has finally broken out at Bethpage. And it is ushered in by the biggest roar of the week that wasn’t thunder as Phil Mickelson birdied the last hole of his third round. There was even a brief glimpse of a bright orange shiny thing in the sky on Saturday evening. The New York Met office is trying to discover what it might be.  

Re-writing dusty old golf clichés
“Majors don’t start until the back nine on Sunday.” Er, make that on Monday. If it goes to an 18-hole play-off (thanks, USGA, great idea), then the popping noise you will hear will be the sound of local hotel managers cracking open another magnum of champagne to celebrate one more night of fleecing the visitors to Bethpage with their ‘special’ room rates.

Suited and booted
Phil Mickelson looked like he was the best man at a wedding resplendent in his pinstriped trousers on Saturday. One more good round and he might just be promoted to groom. “I know I can make five or six birdies to make up the ground,” he says. “I only have two people ahead of me. I just need a hot one.” And who are we to keep a man from his bath?  

Getting the crowd on message
“The fans are awesome out there. I love this place.” Just like this year’s Masters, Lefty is going to be the star attraction for the galleries in the final round, trying to make a charge up the leaderboard. The final group of Barnes and Glover is going to feel a ghost town. Tumbleweed, anyone?

What to do in all the rain delays
Graeme McDowell has been watching the new Batman movie and listening to Snow Patrol and U2 on his iPod. “It’s a funny golf course because there are definitely 65s out there but, at the same time, there are also 75s. You don’t wish any ill on the leaders but I’d like to see them come back a bit to me to give me a chance,” McDowell said. “But if they want to choke like dogs that would be grand,” he didn’t add.

His Masters Voice
We just don’t know what day it is anymore,” says a tired and fed up Tiger Woods. Which might explain why he wore his traditional fourth round red shirt on Sunday for his, err, third round. Which begs the question: just how much revenue will Nike lose by not showcasing Tiger’s third round Saturday shirt? And what colour is it? I think we should be told. It’s really important.

Things to do while scraping the mud off my shoes and socks and trousers (before going back out there again to get down and dirty with the thousands of fans sliding around in the 2009 US Open Mud Wrestling Championship.

Check out Ian Poulter’s Twitter (and that’s not a euphemism)
The shy and sensibly dressed Poulter has been posting his own thoughts on Twitter throughout the championship. So far he has 77,566 stalkers, sorry, followers. Here’s a snippet from Sunday morning: “There is no chance of a finish today, too much rain forecast and that course cannot take any more rain. Flippers and snorkels required.” And here’s what Poulter posted on Saturday night: “Room service stir fry, shower, shave, iron my clothes, vacuum the room, clean the windows, scrub the shower, sorry I’m now talking crap.....” Yeah, but it’s good crap. See for yourself at twitter.com/ianjamespoulter.

Check out the stats from Bethpage:
I once asked Jack Nicklaus for a tip to help weekend hackers improve their game. “Hit more fairways, find more greens, hole more putts,” he answered deadpan to much laughter from the throng around him. Genius.

Longest Driver at Bethpage:J B Holmes.
His four measured biffs so far have run out to 1,205 yards. That’s an average of 301.25 yards every time he steps on tee. Size of the man.

Most Fairways Hit: Francesco Molinari.
He’s found the short stuff (squishy soggy stuff) 30 out of 34 times – a success rate of 88.24%. Now if only he could find more greens, as Jack says, he would be leading instead of plodding along over par back in the pack.

Greens in Regulation: tied 1st and also the top two in the championship are Ricky Barnes and Lucas Glover.
That’s 32 out of 37 greens hit. Nice job, as they say out here. The only people rooting for them to keep up their good work are Mrs Barnes and Mrs Glover.

Fewest putts: Nick Taylor with 51 over 38 holes.
Nick Who? He’s a 21-year-old amateur form Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada and his brother Josh is  carrying his bag around the swampland that used to be Bethpage Black golf course.


Check out Arnold Palmer’s birthday bash: the King turns 80 in September.
The USGA has set up a website for fans to add to the birthday celebrations of the 1960 US Open champion. You can write what you like at usgamuseum.com/arnoldpalmer. “Everyone has an Arnold Palmer story,” it says on the website. “What’s yours?” Here’s mine. I travelled to Arnie’s home course a few years ago to play with him in at his Bay Hill course. He was standing on the 1st green waiting for me to play my wedge on over a greenside bunker. Of course, I skulled it and it set off like an Exorcet across the green and towards Palmer. It screamed past his head before careering into a bush. If the flight of my ball had been two yards to the left, I would have been writing a story with the headline: “The Day I Killed the King.”

Does anybody know what the heck is going on out there in the drizzle and the gloom and the mud that’s sloshing around like gravy? Certainly not Ian Poulter (on the cut mark at +4), unwrapping five new 3-woods in the locker room before heading to the range.

He broke his favourite 3-wood in practice. “I don’t know what day it is. Or how long I’ve been here. Or how many rounds I’ve got left to play. Or anything,” Poulter said laughing. “It’s been carnage this week. You just have to laugh, really, and get on with it. It is what it is. You just gotta suck it up.” Just as he said that, the voice of Lee Westwood (-2) came from behind a locker. “You’ve been living in the States for too long, Poults,” Westwood said, poking fun at his Ryder Cup teammate’s Americanisms.

Downstairs, the corridor that runs through the clubhouse was crammed with caddies waiting to see if their man had made the cut, or stuffing golf clubs into travel bags for those that hadn’t. A glum Boo Weekley (+11) was trudging off out of the exit carrying his own bag.

“Pardon me, gents,” he drawled, polite as always, as he shuffled on his way, closely followed by Jeev Milka Singh, who was still as jovial as ever, despite finishing 11-over par, saying cheerio as he wandered off.

Padraig Harrington’s manager was re-arranging the flight home for Harrington (+12) and his family, but struggling to get his Blackberry to work (wheel trouble). “Dealing with the uncertainties has been the biggest headache this week,” he said. “You know, holding flights and constantly re-arranging plans.”

A cheery Sergio Garcia (even par) was engaged in a spot of football banter (he’s a Real Madrid fan) with a group of caddies that included Billy Foster (carrying for Westwood) and Mike ‘Fluff’ Cowan (bagman for Jim Furyk, +1). “We’ll see who’ll win the Champions’ League next year,” Garcia bragged, “now that we’ve got Kaka and Ronaldo.”

Paul Casey’s caddie, Craig Donnelly, meanwhile, was clearly looking forward to getting the hell outta town after what has been a disastrous championship for the highly fancied Casey (+10).

“It’s been a long, frustrating waiting game this week,” Donnelly said. “Our car-parking area was changed over night. And no one told us. Then we had to queue up with the public. Then they changed our tee times. And we got the wrong side of the draw with the weather. But that’s just the way it goes sometimes. Hey, we got the right side of the draw when Paul won in  Houston. See you at the Open,” he said.

Out in the players’ car park, Vijay Singh was ambling along with his caddie, hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers (his own, not his caddies’). Judging by the pained expression on his face, he was sucking on what could only have been lemons. Back in the media centre, I checked Singh’s score just to discover the cause of his misery and by how many shots he had missed the cut.

But wait, Singh has actually made the cut on the mark at +4. Ah, wait a second – a bogey, bogey finish. That’s going to ruin his dinner. Two more rounds in the swamp, then, with no chance to win. Just what Singh would have wanted.

Top 5 US Open Things

1. The Biblical weather: the end of the world (if not the tournament) is nigh

It’s like Glastonbury out here. Without the wacky baccy and singers that can’t sing (oh help me; I’m starting to sound like my father). All the WAGS are sporting natty wellies and umbrellas are selling at a rate of 600 every two hours. If the wind gets up on Sunday, the skyline over Bethpage could look like a Mary Poppins convention.

2. Best comeback winner: David (remember him?)  Duval

Not a sniff of a win since the 2001 Open Championship and has missed eight cuts from 13 events this year with a best finish of tied 55th. He threw his hat on the floor on the driving range on Monday – and missed. Apparently. But Duval has ditched his six-pack for his old five-bellies look again and he’s swinging better than the Glenn Miller Orchestra. “I’d really like for my wife and family to see how I can actually play this game. They haven’t seen me at my best.”

3. Ice cream in the media center (sic): 200g of melting Heaven

They’re called Giant and, by golly, they ain’t no 99 Cornet. They are sort of like a choc-ice – only it’s like a slap of vanilla ice cream slammed between to bourbon-type biscuits. “Vanilla Ice Cream Sandwich,” is says on the yellow wrapper. Not so much a sandwich; more a house brick. I’m, averaging two a  day and building quite an impressive conservatory around my waist.

4.New favourite player that I’ve never heard of: Azuma (who he?) Yano
The 31-year-old from Gunma (I don’t know where it is, either) has got his name on the leaderboard and he can’t stop smiling through the rain at Bethpage (memo to Tiger: see, it can be done). “It’s my first time to play at the US Open. I didn’t expect anything. My luck is coming out. I think I have a big chance to be the first Asian winner.” Like the song says: If you don’t have a dream, how do you hope to have a dream come true?

5.Top Brit with wife expecting baby: Ross Fisher
Came runner-up to Paul Casey at the BMW PGA Championship last month and treated himself to a Lamborghini. Two under par after two rounds at Bethpage leaves him primed to lead the home charge on Sunday. Here’s a snippet from his post-round chat (note to Mrs Fisher: you might want to look away now).

Q. Your wife still pregnant?
A. Yeah. We have four weeks to go – meant to be Tuesday of Turnberry.
 
Q. What if you got the call now – what would you do?
A. Next question! I don’t know – that would be a tough one

Er, that’s probably the wrong answers, young man. Suggest you buy something expensive and shiny at JFK on Monday. Or get a bunch of flowers from a garage on your way home. Unless, of course Mrs Fisher is already at the hospital.

Elephants and New Yorkers: they never forget. The last time Sergio Garcia was at Bethpage, for the 2002 US Open, he was in the middle of his re-gripping yips and the tough New York crowd nicknamed him Waggle Boy. By the time he reached the 16th green on Friday back then, the crowd was counting aloud his waggles.

“One..two…three.” Garcia’s patience ran out, his sense of humour failed, and he snapped, raising the universally recognised single finger salute at them.

Well, Garcia revisited the scene of his bust-up in the delayed first round this year and the horror of the memories must have come flooding back standing on the 16th tee. He waggled three times (tiny, almost unnoticed waggles) with his driver before belting his ball down the middle of the fairway, out driving his playing partners, Adam Scott and Camilo Villegas. A fan yelled out. “Hey Sergio, we don’t count your waggles anymore.” Everyone
laughed. Garcia, wisely, kept his head down.

New Yorkers never forget but maybe they have finally softened to the Spaniard “I love you Sergio; I love winding you up,” shouted another – loud enough to get guffaws from his buddies but quiet enough for Garcia not to hear it. Poor Garcia had to walk the gauntlet of the 16th fairway, which is flanked by hospitality (hostility) tents all the way to the green spilling over with yahoos
who are rather too fond of the sound of their own voices.

They do like a rousing yell in New York – just for the hell of it. And, let’s just say that refreshment had been taken throughout the day and, judging by the volume of the whoops and hollers, it probably wasn’t lemonade or iced tea that they had been sipping.

If Garcia was going to get it in the neck, this was the place and the time. But nothing. Nada, as they say in Spain. Zip, as they say in New York. “Go Sergio, Baby!” came a scream from the galleries. And, this year, it wasn’t meant to be Cry Baby.

Hold the back page: the golfer formerly known as Waggle Boy is actually getting support from the famously Mickey-taking New York sports fans. There wasn’t a single taunt about his recent break up with girlfriend, Morgan-Leigh (daughter of Greg) Norman.

No mention of his whinging after losing the 2007 Open play-off to Padraig Harrington. “Welcome back, Sergio,” came a shout from the back of the 17th green as Garcia rolled in his third single putt in a row on his way to posting an even par score for his delayed first round.

New York is rooting for Sergio. It’s official. As Sinatra said of New York, New York: “If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere...”

Penn Station, New York, Friday, 6.18am – “All aboard the Tiger Express for the US Open,” boomed the railroad announcer. “Don’t run; walk. We’ll wait for ya.”

Three extra Tiger Special trains were laid on to take thousands of Tiger fans from Manhattan to the US Open on Friday morning. The first left New York at 5.35am. I, ahem, decided to leave that to the diehards. Same for the 6.07am. I don’t do mornings very well. The 6.18am was quite early enough, thank you very much.

Fifty minutes later we are being herded off at Farmingdale Station and corralled through winding rat-run queues before being squeezed into a constant supply of free shuttle busses for a 10-minute ride to the course. “There he is, there he is,” squealed a hyperventilating kid to his pop. “Get a picture, get a picture.”

The ‘he’ was, of course, Tiger Woods but all this excitable jumping up and down was merely because Jnr had looked for, and spotted, nothing more than his hero’s name on the giant scoreboard by the refreshment stands. I never saw him again. He probably caught a glimpse of the real Tiger in the flesh and popped through sheer delight. Ah bless.

When Tiger trudged up the 18th fairway shortly before 11am, the “grandstand full” signs had been hung up for hours. Those without a seat could see just two things - diddly and squat - because thegreen is raised and so those left in the valley below saw nothing more than the top of Tiger’s hat covering his rapidly receding hairline.

Greenkeepers had toiled all night to soak up all Thursday’s rain with giant squeegy rollers, and probably tea towels and hairdryers, too. They got play under way on time at 7.30am but the 18th green still had a damp patch through the middle of it that looked like a map of Australia. The sort of result that teenagers fudge after a desperate attempt to mop up the spillage on the carpet from an all-night party held in their home while their parents were out of town.

A final-hole bogey left Woods on three over par and grumpy, and with his shoes and the bottom of his trousers caked in the slimy mud of the Bethpage  Black Swamp course. “The way I feel right now, I don’t want to go back out there,” he said. The poor little lamb. And he won’t have to until Saturday.

If everyone finishes their second round by the end of Saturday, then it will be a 36-hole marathon on Sunday. What did he think about all those fans who had crawled out of bed to come out early to support him? “They were great,” was all he could muster. Gee thanks. Think I’ll have a lie in tomorrow.

Ian Poulter was rather more forthcoming, entering into the spirit of the event. Of course it helps to have played three shots better than Woods. “The crowds were great fun. It’s a real New York atmosphere; they’re cheeky,” Poulter said grinning. “I got a lot of stick about my pants (that’s trousers, obviously – he’s not out here parading in his undies).”

Those pants were, by Poulter’s standards, a rather low-key black and white checked affair. “Yeah, I can’t be too outrageous this week. I want to keep those New Yorkers on my side!”

If Woods doesn’t lighten up, those cheeky mud-splattered New Yorkers could quickly abandon him over the weekend and change platforms to get onboard the increasingly popular Mickelson Express instead. 

Where next?

- More latest US Open news
- US Open picture galleries
- US Open golf blog

Rain Delay US Open Special
Essential knowledge from Bethpage
(Or: stuff you need to know in case someone asks you in the pub tonight/tomorrow)

Who’s leading the US Open, then?
There are four players tied at one under, but the guy out in front, by virtue of playing the most holes (11), is Jeff Brehaut.

Who the heck is Jeff Brehaut?
He’s a 46-year old from Los Altos, California (pop: 27,693) with very lovely teeth and a charming understated demeanour. He’s a regular on the second-tier Nationwide Tour (with two victories), who toiled for 10 years on the PGA Tour from 1998 after graduating from Q School at the 13th attempt. The guy’s a trier. We’ll give him that. This is only the second major he has played in. He finished tied 17 at the 2007 US Open. He’s probably barely recognised even in his own home.

But he must now be the most famous person from Los Altos, right?
Wrong. How about Jim Morrison, lead singer with the Doors. Or Allison Waite, Playboy playmate (whatever they are). Or Lauren McFall, member of the USA’s bronze medal 2004 Olympic Synchronized Swimming team.
 
Well, OK. But he must be the most famous golfer from Los Altos?
Wrong again. Hats off to Julie Inkster, LPGA superstar and commentator.

What does Jeff think about seeing his name on top of the leaderboard?
He can hardly belief it. He’s not alone. “Not everyone that gets on tour is an All-American. I’m living proof of that,” he said. “It was my dream to play on the PGA Tour and I found a way to make it happen. It’s pretty cool.” And pretty wet.

What do the players think about not being allowed to lift, clean and replace their balls?
“It makes it a bit of a lottery,” said Paul Casey, piling sand bags against the door of the locker room. “But, hey, it all adds to the fun.”

How are the nine English golfers faring in the typically English weather?
Er, not very well, actually. Seven out of the nine of them have started their round. They have played 46 holes between them scoring just one birdie and standing at a cumulative 26 over par.

Are they going to get this thing finished? Or even started?
“I guarantee you they will have a US Open champion at the end of this week,” said Padraig Harrington, wringing out his socks. “Well, at some stage in the next week or so,” he added laughing.

What’s the official line from the USGA Suits?
“We will not determine a national champion until we play 72 holes,” said the no-nonsense championship director Mike Davis. “So if that takes us into Monday or Tuesday or whatever...The perfect scenario would be to finish the second round by the end of Saturday then try to play 36 holes on Sunday.” Except that there is a 50% chance of rain on Friday and a 70% chance on Saturday. Memo to self: change flight home to next Tuesday.

What’s the lowdown on Tiger?
On the course, he’s on hole 6, one over par, tied 12th. Highlight of his day was his now traditional snap hook off the 1st tee, which landed five yards  from the steps to the hospitality tents. He made par, of course. It was a better day off course for the World No.1 Forbes magazine today published its list  of the Richest Sportsmen in the World. Tiger is No.1 for the eighth straight year, having banked $110 million in the past 12 months. That’s two-and a  half times more greenbacks than his nearest rivals: Formula One driver Kimi Raikkonen, and basketball’s Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant, all tied for second place with a miserly $45 million. Are very David Beckham is fifth with $40 million. Bless him.

Any golf tips for golf-starved US Open fans?
There are photographs on the walls in the portable toilets behind the media center (sic) that offer tips on how to drive, putt, and hit irons and sand shots. You could practise while you pee, except there’s nothing on the grip and there’s certainly no room to swing anything in there, anyway.

Last word
Play suspended 1.55pm. I’m off to buy an umbrella and a pair of wellies.

Where next?

- More latest US Open news
- US Open picture galleries
- US Open golf blog

Today’s golf news: there isn’t any. Play was suspended at Bethpage at 10.16am to give those that laughed at the ark builders a chance to head for higher ground. It’s raining. Proper. Big. Rain. And it doesn’t look like it is going to stop anytime soon.

When (if) the players ever get back onto the course, surely they will be allowed to lift, clean and replace their balls on the fairway. “Er, no,” said the man from the USGA. But what if it just keeps on raining? “If we can't play it; if it's not fair to be playing the ball as it lies, we'll suspend play,” said USGA Man.

But what if it rains so much that the championship runs over to Monday or Tuesday, or July? “We'll stay here until we get a champion,” he said. Deep joy. Hasn’t he got a home to go to?

We might have to play the US Open and the Open Championship at the same time at Bethpage. Heck, all the players and the media are already here and hunkered down for the rainy season. Think about how much money would be saved in hotel bills. Speaking of which, the media hotel is in the middle of a parking lot somewhere off a freeway, somewhere in America, and a 30-minute bus ride from the course. It looks like it was modelled on the kind that Kate Adie used to report from during missile attacks in Tel Aviv. And it’s, ahem, $265 a night (plus tax and the shirt off your back). Nearest, and only, entertainment is a Hooters, which, I have been told, is a den of iniquity, where, apparently, large breasted dolly birds wearing skin tight, low cut orange leotards and flesh-coloured tights serve BBQ chicken wings and cold fizzy beer to hot frothy middle-aged men. Disgraceful.
 
All of which goes to explain why your man from Team Golf Monthly is one of three sharing a one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan, a two-hour drive from the course. But at least the nightlife is classier. The apartment is on the 36th floor of a 44-storey block that has a view to die for, especially if you trip up on the way out to the balcony – it’s only eight yards long and two yards wide. “You could see the Empire State Building just there if it wasn’t for that office block,” said the man showing us around. “And the Statue of Liberty is just over there behind that skyscraper.” He was clearly a fan of Fawlty Towers.

USGA Man is the only person at Bethpage displaying a sunny disposition and insisting that the weather will improve later today and there will be some golf. “We’re just trying to identify the backside of this,” he said. Whatever that means. Tune in later, possibly much later, for all your essential golf news.

I’m off to watch the racing at Ascot on the BBC’s website. The weather looks lovely in Berkshire.

Where next?

- More latest US Open news
- US Open picture galleries
- US Open golf blog

 

“Locals bet on Black to win,” screamed the headline of a New York tabloid on the eve of the 109th US Open. The photograph accompanying the story was that of Tiger Woods. It’s debatable whether those clever newspaper dudes meant this to be a deliberate double play, but it’s probably a safe bet by the local gamblers, whichever way you choose to look at it.

Bethpage Black is a proper public course, just 25 miles from downtown New York, with a proper $60 a round public course green fee (2010 US Open venue, Pebble Beach, claims to be a public links but $495 for 18 holes suggests otherwise). The Black has a proper dilapidated wooden pro shop with flaky paint around the windows, chipped roof tiles, and rotten wood for walls, and scribbled notes stuck to the glass advertising half-hour lessons for $60 and large buckets of balls for $8. The starter’s hut, with its dirty plastic grill window, looks more like a booth that you queue up in front of to pay your fine and get your car back after it has been clamped.

The Black might be cheap but it’s certainly not shaping up to be cheerful for the world’s finest golfers. Frankly, as the masochistic locals are only to pleased to inform you, their course is bloody hard as nails. So much so, that there is a warning for foolhardy golfers nailed to the railings at the back of the 1st tee. It’s golf’s equivalent of the “smoking will kill you” message on cigarette packets. The placade reads: “The Black Course is an extremely difficult course which we recommend only for highly skilled golfers.” How’s that for calming 1st tee nerves? “It’s like what they do on ski slopes,” blubbed Henrik Stenson. “It’s a bit of a gimmick,” he added trying not to look scared. “This is probably the only golf course with a warning at the first tee," trembled 2006 US Open champion Geoff Ogilvy. “I’ve seen lots of rules written down on first tees but I’ve never seen warnings.” Okay, it’s official: the USGA have got the players quaking in the khaki pants (and that’s not necessarily just in their trousers, either). The course measures 7,426 yards and there are seven par-fours over 450 yards long. The Black is a super-sized XXXL slog. “I hit a wood into those par fours in practice,” Ogilvy whimpered.

“And as for 3- and 4-irons; we’re wearing them out.” And the course is only going to get longer. Weather forecast for the week: Rain. Rain. And more rain. Come Sunday, the world’s greatest golfers could be sloshing around in the puddles of a muni for five hours in the pouring rain. Just like the rest of us, then, at the weekend.

Where next?

- More latest US Open news
- US Open picture galleries
- US Open golf blog