Living and Dying at the Majors as a Family

It can be awfully lonely inside the ropes.  Surrounded by often faceless galleries of thousands does little to make the punishment of a major championship any easier to bear.  The people observing your every move may be supportive, but it is impersonal.  The faces blend in with the fescue, the sand, the trees.  That is, except for the few familiar signs off a life off of the golf course.

At Oakmont, familiar faces in the crowd could provide a respite from the grind that is the National Open on arguably the world's toughest golf course.  For the players in contention to win the title on Sunday, it was a family matter.

I began observing the final round with the next to last group of Suzann Pettersen, Christina Kim, and 15 year old pro Lexi Thompson.  Christina's father, Man, has been having health troubles recently.  It has been difficult for him to get around, but he made certain to follow his daughter throughout her final round journey. 

Man was provided with an electric scooter than helped him get around the hilly terrain of Oakmont.  He would move his cart parallel to each shot his daughter hit, stand on the cart with binoculars in hand, and observe his daughter's play.  At the fifth tee in the hot sun, Christina spotted her father below the tee box to the treacherous par 4, grabbed two water bottles from the cooler for the players, and tossed them to her father.  He started drinking one and put another in the scooter basket, which he would deliver to his wife down the fairway.

Man Kim watching his daughter

As his daughter approached the last, Man came up right next to me after returning his scooter.  Though his daughter was no longer in contention to win the title, he craned and squeezed as best he could his 6'0", 275 pound frame to see his girl finish.

Four other families were a part of my journey on Sunday.  Read about their stories after the jump.

Midway through the final day, Cristie Kerr had slipped out of contention.  With Paula Creamer not giving up shots to par, every square on Kerr's card pulled her further away from a second Open. 

In the same group, though, Brittany Lang was making a move up the leaderboard.  After positioning herself through three rounds, Lang was taking advantage of the USGA's new Sunday tradition of letting up on the players with their setup.

For both players, family and people just as close as blood were in the gallery to feel each shot.

Cristie Kerr takes the Open very seriously, perhaps more than almost any player in the field.  She deviates from weekly LPGA protocol by renting a house to keep quiet and feel more solitary, as well as bring in her teach Bryan Lebedevitch and Jim McLean to prepare for the tournament.

By Sunday, McLean had gone home to Florida.  Lebedevitch remained alongside Kerr's husband Erik Stevens.  Kerr has credited Stevens as the driving force behind her two major breakthroghs and maturity as a person and golfer.  It's clear why. 

Stevens is an engaging character who really cares about his wife and how well she executes.  He does not do so in anything resembling an overbearing parent that might be the stereotype in women's golf - particularly among teenage players.  While he had always been interested in the sport prior to meeting Cristie as an employee of the agency that represents her, Stevens is at heart a hockey guy.  He has made conscious strides to better understand the intricacies of the game and clearly learns well on the fly.  At varying points in the round, Stevens would query Lebedevitch about how Kerr did on a shot, what club she might be hitting, or why things went wrong.  Stevens had his base assessment of what went wrong, though.

"We didn't play the par 5s well enough this week," he says walking down the 12th fairway - a par 5.  Kerr did not take advantage of the 5s, which were the few scoring respites that the USGA offered before Sunday.  Then again, Lebedevitch openly professes that Kerr has a knack for the shories, the par 3s.  The reason why is beyond him, but he guesses that it is because Kerr has the control with ball-in-hand on the tee.

Though McLean is gone, Lebedevitch corresponded with him after each hole with what Cristie's score was and what went well or poorly.  While all three men know the tournament is over for Kerr as she wraps up the back nine, it is impossible to distance themselves from what Cristie is doing to finish the round.

Meanwhile, never too far away is Brittany Lang's mom.  She is big into tennis and is wearing a cute purple tennis dress.  To avoid the beaming sunlight on her skin, she is carrying around a gray umbrella.  Now and again, she will stroll away from her solitary place in the light crowd to talk with Stevens.  It's good conversation, some under wraps business - Lang was going to the closing bell at the NYSE on Tuesday - and some mutual encouragement on a tough day.

At the par 3 16th, Kerr hit a medal wood on a line that would have been perfect had it gone just one or two yards further.  Instead, it landed her in a deep, unforgiving bunker.  She extricated herself nicely, but not close enough to make par - or even an easy two-putt.  Stevens said, "If Cristie was really close, she would have put that right next to the stick."  Kerr three-putt from her leave out of the bunker, though.

The final hole in a major championship when all that is on the line is a paycheck is much different from one when a trophy could come with it.  Kerr hit a solid drive and an excellent approach that - as I told Erik - reminded me of where Angel Cabrera put the ball in the '07 Open final round.

Clearly interested in history, he said, "You think so?  That close?" 

Sadly, Kerr hit her first putt way past the hole and made bogey.  Naturally, Stevens was upset as Cristie was to finish the championship that way.  In the end, Stevens and I shook hands like we had just been out there ourselves.  The culture of golf is such that even the spectators end with some kind of embrace.

Now at the closing hole with Paula Creamer's championship in tow, the preceding groups come through to clear the stage.  Returning now are the group of Christina Kim, Suzann Pettersen, and Lexi Thompson.  Just before Man Kim entered the picture stage right, out of the corner of my eye I see the happy parents of the eventual champion and the Nordic parents of Suzann Pettersen.  They're talking with one another very cordially and openly about their daughters. 

Mr. Pettersen, a tall blond man from Norway (as you might guess), is explaining that his daughter might be in the market for a new coach.  Putting has confounded Suzann and, as he says, "She won't listen to me."  The Creamers talk briefly about it before another man joins the conversation.  He knows a guy in Arizona and another guy in Florida that might be able to help Suzann with the flat stick.  They trade e-mail addresses.  Business is traditionally done on the golf course, so this exchange should come as no surprise.  Almost on cue, Suzann then drops in a birdie putt at the closing hole and gives the crowd a fist pump.  She knows that she could have won if she were able to putt better.  Perhaps a new coach could do the trick.

With the course clear except the final group, the champion's family was ready to celebrate.  They stood alone, the Pettersens now with their daughter at the clubhouse awaiting her to sign the scorecard.  Paula drew raucous cheers from the crowd as she holed her winning putt, but it was the embrace from her parents after she started making her way to the clubhouse that sealed it.

At the clubhouse where every player before sighed, huffed, signed their card, and got out of Dodge, the Creamers were jubilant.  Another round of hugs between family, caddy, and Paula ensued.  The celebration was going to last long into the night and for weeks to come - as a family and a team.