Why Aaron Rai’s PGA Championship victory resonated deeply

In golf (and with experience: as in life!) there are constant adjustments. For example, you might consider saving up for TaylorMade’s newest and worst driver, the Qi4D Designer Series Shadowfall, available at Dick’s for $700. Or, with less financial pressure, you can buy the 2017 TaylorMade M2, the same make and model Brandt Snedeker used when he won at Myrtle Beach this month. I saw one listed on 2nd Swing for $209.99.

Talk about corrections: Part of the appeal of Aaron Rai’s feel-good win at the PGA Championship, nine under par, is his basic humility, in this age of home-baked celebrities. He has no social media, a driver nearly as old as Snedeker and a home in the suburbs of Jacksonville, Fla., that Henry David Thoreau might have seen. Thoreau, in one sentence: “Make it easy, make it easy.”

You might want to check out Thoreau’s cabin at Walden Pond, where he lived for two years, two months and two days. You can get there in six hours from Fenway Park, quickly by public transportation.

What is Bryson DeChambeau worth on the open market, if he leaves LIV for greener pastures? I don’t know, I don’t care. Aaron Rai earned $3.7 million for winning the PGA Championship. If there is anything that worries him, it is money and fame and success that change him. It doesn’t seem possible. He takes his cues from Thoreau. You can see that on Sunday afternoon. Golf reveals character like few things do. That has been true forever.

Golf is tried-and-true well. The game changes over time, of course, as all things do, but here’s a quick Big Three for goalies: 14-club range, 1.62-ounce ball, play-as-is fundamentals. They work, and they come from the holy grail of golf, the rulebook. No rulebook, no golf. No championship golf, though.

I’ve quoted this sentence, from an earlier version and introduction to the ever-changing rulebook, more than a few times. I do so because it says it all:

“All players must conduct themselves with dignity, respect and sportsmanship at all times, no matter how competitive they are. This is the spirit of the game of golf.”

Aaron Rai is the soul of golf.

I like Robert MacIntyre, the Scottish left and Ryder Cupper. And believe me, I understand the spirit with which he gave the middle finger to the lake on the 15th at Augusta National during the Masters last month. We’ve all been there. The game can do strange things to any of us, anywhere. (I have been there many, many times, playing in front of someone, for free.) But, really, that middle finger thing in the first round of the first round, funny as it was at the time, is unacceptable when you think about it all. First, MacIntyre plays Augusta National as a guest. That pond is part of the challenge presented by the club, which is part of the size of the course and the tournament. Having millions of views doesn’t mean anything.

Be courteous, show respect and sportsmanship. It’s not complicated.

Sergio Garcia’s foul in the second round of Sunday’s round at Augusta last month got even worse—he fouled a small piece of the course, the centerpiece of Garcia’s great golf game. (He won there in 2017.) Garcia’s behavior escalated to the point that Augusta National member Geoff Yang, the tournament’s new rules chairman, felt compelled to come out to the course and discuss the matter with Garcia. I don’t know what Yang said but I can give you an educated guess and I’ll boil it down to the everyday language we all know: Not even close, dude.

Then there’s Rory McIlroy, after last week’s first round of the PGA Championship. He entered the press tent to meet a group of journalists. The PGA of America’s director of public relations, Greg Dillard, opened the proceedings with this:

“Rory McIlroy is with us for the 108th PGA Championship. How would you describe your opening round?”

“Shit,” McIlroy said. No fun, all heat.

I get it, we all do. I have been there (in completely different circumstances) as we all have been. You burn it, you take it out on the wrong person. This time, McIlroy shot 74 and was not happy about it. He was four strokes away from being in good spirits. McIlroy’s response was honest, and his candor, going on 20 years now, is one of the things that makes McIlroy special.

But a few things here. His one-word response undermines what Dillard’s job, rightly, requires him to do – help get the word out about the progress of the PGA Championship around the world. But here’s the most important point: McIlroy is lucky or anyone he cares about his first round score at the 108th PGA Championship at all. It’s easy to lose track of that, when you’ve been doing this whole play-the-world-elite-golfer thing, for a lot of money and a lot of attention, for a long time. But that’s the starting point that makes McIlroy’s entire public life happen: People care. His one-word response was neither polite nor disciplinary. By and large, it lacked sporting prowess.

“Okay, thank you — we’ll open it up to questions,” Dillard said, about as thorough a response as a press conference president would have in that situation. In a word, McIlroy seemed to be reorganized, and from then on he did his job. Indeed, he has been a pleasure to cover, widely and over the years. We all have our moments.

Aaron Rai is coming. He’s going to be as popular from here as he wasn’t before the PGA Championship last week. Human nature is human nature. But this guy has it so very much in his heart. We all saw it in one afternoon. But this game will push anyone to our limits, even Aaron Rai. That old precedent is always there as a handy reminder.