1995 77th PGA / RIVIERA : The Real Pressure Is on Everyone Els
The thing about Ernie Els is, he always looks as if someone just awakened him from a sound sleep. As if he’s still rubbing his eyes. In a dream state. Even over a seven-foot putt to win the Open, he manages to look as if he’s stifling a yawn.
If he worked in a garage, his nickname would be “Sleepy.” You get the feeling you could set off a bomb under him and he wouldn’t even blink. He’s about as excitable as a British lord snoozing over a glass of port in the club. He makes a cow look nervous. You sort of look behind him to see where they wind him up.
He plays golf the same way. With this kind of bemused smile on his face. As if he’s just killing time down at the pool hall. They have to tap him on the shoulder when it’s his turn. “Now, Ernie.”
He has this gorgeous, lazy swing. Effortless. Sleepy, even. He has pioneered a new way to play golf. At a “Z-z-z-z-z.” At least he doesn’t snore. You swear if you said, “Hey, Ernie, it’s 576 yards straightaway, bunkers on the left,” he’d open one eye and say, “Oh (yawn) yeah? Well, gimme the (yawn) three-wood. I’ll (yawn) try to draw it around (yawn) those trees.”
Everyone envies him. Those other guys grip the shaft as if they are trying to strangle a chicken. Their knuckles turn white. So do they. Their heart pounds, knees tremble. Els just sighs and hits it.
Of course, he’s only 25. He has no clue yet how difficult this game is. You want to grab him sternly and warn: “Now, Ernie, 25-foot putts don’t have to go in!” You want to point out there’s a deep bunker on the left. “Say, Ernie, Costantino Rocca left a ball in one of these for three shots!” Ernie would just shrug. And if he did get in one, he’d hole it out as he did on No. 3 at Riviera on Saturday.
You want to say, “Ernie, about that three-wood. It could go through the green.” But Ernie hit a three-wood through the green on No. 11 at Riviera Saturday--and then chipped in for an eagle. You just throw your hands up in the air.
It isn’t the studied nonchalance of a Fred Couples. It isn’t as if he doesn’t care . He just has a job to do and he’s good at it.
A competitor, Jay Haas, put the right note on it about Els. “You know, he really doesn’t look like he’s working at it. He shot a 62 down at Dallas this year and it really looked like a 68. He makes 62s like most of us make 73s. No strain. You’re not aware of effort. His touch and his power are deceptive. Nothing can go wrong with that swing. He’ll be around next week, next month and for the next 20 years.”
You hear the tour guys talk about Ernie Els and you’d get the impression they were talking about a 20-year veteran. A guy who has won two dozen tournaments, a British Open or two, a Masters.
Uh-uh. Ernie Els has actually won two tournaments. Of course, the first tournament he ever won on our tour was the U.S. Open. Nothing like starting at the top. Actually, he was following in a unique tradition. The U.S. Open was won four other times in recent memory by guys winning their first tournament ever--Jack Nicklaus in 1962, Lee Trevino in 1968, Orville Moody in 1969 and Jerry Pate in 1976.
It’s heady stuff to be in with Nicklaus and Trevino. And to be 25 years old and have a U.S. Open under your belt and be leading the PGA by three shots as Ernie Els found himself at Riviera Saturday. It’d probably be a prescription for another player to spend a sleepless night, a toss-and-turn, a watch-television-till-dawn. Els may have trouble staying awake for the ride home.
He’s the kind of guy you’d like to have next to you in a lifeboat. Or a foxhole. There’s something reassuring about the way he handles pressure. Guys like this win wars. There’s a country-boy stolidity to young Ernie. He’s also the kind of guy you’d want to have in the office pool.
Can he squander a three-shot lead? One of his closest competitors, Mark O’Meara thinks not. Mark shakes his head and says, “You’ll have to go get him. He won’t come back to you. Ernie’s 25 going on 40. Pressure is self-inflicted. Ernie doesn’t do that.”
Among those who don’t think Ernie Els will wilt is Ernie Els. “I’m not going to let it go,” he smiles.
If I were everybody else, I believe I’d concentrate on second. Even if Els is that one on the victory stand trying to stay awake.
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