MAMARONECK, N.Y. -- Forget everything you have read or seen or heard about the new Phil Mickelson, the one who plays smart, plays under control, plays the odds, plays only after careful preparation.
It's all a crock. The willful evil twin who plays on emotion, ignores the odds, gambles with abandon and is a couple of bricks shy of a load, is alive and well and living in Phil's body.
How else do you explain this most bizarre of United States Open finishes? Mickelson stood on the final tee, all but assured of his third consecutive major golf championship, all of New York ready to bow at his feet. The place was wild with noise and excitement, anticipating that the man The Big Apple has embraced as its own was going to be champion.
Almost inexplicably, less than an hour after that, some guy in a United States Golf Association blazer was handing Aussie Geoff Ogilvy the trophy and Mickelson was sitting in stunned silence in the scorer's tent, vacant eyes staring straight ahead, seeing nothing, utterly in shock.
This was straight out of Tin Cup, a gawdawful demonstration of course management by a guy who prides himself in thinking his way through situations rather than following his gut instincts.
When he finally regained a measure of composure, Mickelson had trouble believing what had happened.
"Well, I am still in shock that I did that," he said. "I just can't believe I did that.
"I am such an idiot."
We take you now to the 16th tee, where Mickelson, playing in the final group, had a two-shot lead on a pack of pursuers, most notably Colin Montgomerie, Ogilvy, Jim Furyk and Padraig Harrington.
All day long, Mickelson had been missing fairways and not just by a little bit. Regardless, he had been able to keep his game together on a very difficult day for everyone. For some reason, though, he persisted in hitting his driver and once again, he launched it long and left. His approach shot landed in a horrible lie in a greenside bunker and led to a bogey.
At about the same time, up ahead, Montgomerie was making an improbable birdie, nailing a 60-foot putt. Suddenly the game was tied, with Ogilvy lurking a shot back.
While Mickelson was scrambling for par at 17, Montgomerie was making a hash of the final hole, turning a perfect drive into a double-bogey six that ruined his bid for his first, elusive major.
Meanwhile, Ogilvy scrambled for a par at 18. So when Mickelson arrived at the tee, he needed a par to win outright or a bogey to force an 18-hole playoff today.
"I tried to go to my bread and butter shot, a baby-carved slice, and just get it in the fairway, and I missed it left," he said.
That is the biggest understatement since a sailor on the Titanic said "I think we may have hit something."
Mickelson's "baby slice" bounced off the roof off a hospitality tent about 30 yards left of the fairway and landed in a place where he had only a circus-shot to get to the green. Of course, instead of taking his medicine and getting back to the fairway, where bogey still was in order, Mickelson tried the heroic shot. It hit a tree and bounced almost back to the spot where he had struck it.
His next attempt landed in a greenside bunker, another horrible lie. His bunker shot ran away across the green, forcing a desperation chip out of the rough to tie Ogilvy. It wasn't close.
Game, set and match.
"I just can't believe I couldn't par the last hole," Mickelson said. "It really stings. As a kid I dreamt of winning this tournament. Even a bogey would have gotten me into a playoff. I just can't believe I did that.
"This one hurts more than any other tournament because I had it won. I had it in my grasp. It was right there and I let it go."
Others have lost major championships in horrifying fashion. Jean Van de Velde, of 1999 British Open infamy, is the poster child for that crowd. Mickelson believed he was beyond all that, having matured in his approach to the game the last few years.
Not quite yet, Phil.
