MAMARONECK, NY – They were a discouraged group, the Winged Foot range staff. There was work to be done and the weather was dropping, a smoky haze spreading from the fires of the West darkening the New York skies before the expected 7:00 PM sunset. The practice area had been empty for 20 minutes, save for Viktor Hovland beating driver after driver on the ninth hole of the East course, which effectively serves as a practice facility this week. But the area had to be completely clear for staff to do their job, hence their stasis in a multi-passenger maintenance cart. If Hovland sensed their restlessness, he paid no attention to them.
Also, what would the staff do? They knew their place in the hierarchy. Before they could do their job, Hovland had to finish his.
“It keeps drifting, doesn’t it?” Hovland told his caddy, Shay Knight, displeased that his engines were deviating from their rope trajectory. So the range staff watched as he continued to sway as darkness crept in, chasing a demon that only he could see.
The last man on the range can be a marvel to behold. It can be a romantic or tragic or a pragmatic soul, sometimes all at once. It depends on the person, the place and the situation and perhaps the prism we see them.
The last man on the pitch can be a source of inspiration, proof that the player’s success is not strictly related to talent. Look that! the broadcast tells us while coverage is ending. On four shots on the pitch and still practicing his game! That’s why he’s one of the best, Jim. It can be ambitious, the hope of being one of the last players to leave for the tee box comes Sunday afternoon.
The last man on the pitch can be painful, a player looking for something that once was but isn’t there, and the look on his face shows he’s not sure where to find it or if he’ll ever come back. It can be worrying, a sign that all is not well with one’s swing or psyche. It can be melodramatic, even performance art, a reminder that to reach this level you have to be some kind of crazy.
The last man on the field can be a badge of honor. Vijay Singh made a career out of being the last man; more often than not, Bryson DeChambeau holds the role in present times. The last man on the range may be a curiosity. As far as we know Haotong Li is still hitting balls at TPC Harding Park as we speak.
For Hovland … well, he was apparently there to fix a leaking driver. “It was right again, right again,” he says of the big stick. Conversely, those losses looked pretty straight forward, and long ball was no problem for the 22-year-old in his fledgling career (18th in shots earned / off the tee last season). It could simply be a window into the inner fire that propelled Hovland to a T-12 finish in this championship last year as an amateur and led to a win in his rookie campaign.
One thing is certain, there are no circumstances in the last man of the range.
He might say he’s there to practice, which is true but not really. It is a facade. He is there to atone for past sins and make sure they never happen again even though he knows they will. Or to give alms in the hope that the golf gods will make their providence shine in its own way. It is there with a purpose.
Finally, shortly after 7pm, the Hovland oscillations stop. “Let’s go ahead and call him,” he tells Knight, his units barely visible at this point. A barely noticeable “Thank God” comes from the maintenance vehicle and suddenly six staff members are sweeping the day’s holes into a pile. They do a quick job, but their respite will be short. The last man on the pitch may change, but he will always be there.
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