It's not hard to understand why I got so caught up yesterday in the drama of the U.S. Open. Rocco Mediate is in his 40s, he's damn good at what he does, and he's had a little success in his twenty years in the game, but he's toiled in relative obscurity while watching younger, more prolific players rise up after him and dominate the field. Nonetheless, for a few holes there, he outplayed and even rattled the best player in the world, and it looked for a while as if he might actually pull out a once-in-a-lifetime victory.
Yes, even hurt, Tiger Woods still could not be beat. But I don't think Rocco really lost yesterday. With good humor and grace under pressure, he showed the world that, even if he doesn't have the juice to fly steadily at Tiger's altitude, he always had the potential in him for one mighty leap that at least grazed that height. I admit it—I had to wipe my eyes there at the end. He won one for me, and maybe he won one for you too.
