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ORLANDO, FLORIDA | It’s not just how far Bryson DeChambeau can drive a golf ball, though seeing it from close range is like trying to absorb the scale of the Grand Canyon from the south rim.
It’s not the way he works at his craft, though he goes at it like a wolverine tearing into a rabbit.
It’s not the way he talks about the game, part “beautiful mind,” part mad scientist.
It’s all of those things but, perhaps most of all, the thing that now separates DeChambeau is simple:
The way he makes us watch him.
He’s not yet the most popular player on the PGA Tour but he’s the most unique, the most compelling and the most powerful, all of which creates its own magnetism.
At Bay Hill last week, where the spirit of the most magnetic player of them all still lives, DeChambeau produced a master class in the art of being Bryson, winning the Arnold Palmer Invitational by the length of a 5-foot par putt on the finishing hole that left 47-year old Lee Westwood a runner-up.
It felt like a year ago when golf tournaments had galleries and with approximately 5,000 fans on property across the wind-blown weekend, the bulk of them were walking with DeChambeau in hopes of seeing something special.
He’s special.
“It’s great to watch. I like it,” Westwood said after pushing DeChambeau until literally the last putt.
And for a bodybuilding physics nerd who can talk equations and theories deep into the night, DeChambeau has a touch of entertainer about him. He doesn’t just push golf’s boundaries, he pushes people’s buttons with his swing and swagger.
DeChambeau literally leaned into the moment and when the ball landed safely on the other side albeit in a fairway bunker, he struck what is now the DeChambeau pose – two arms raised over his head like a fighter who’s just scored a knockout.
DeChambeau didn’t win the Arnold Palmer Invitational because of the two tee shots he hit on the par-5 sixth hole during the weekend – the first went 370 yards, the second 377 over a lake large enough to hold ski competitions – but they were like weight-bearing beams that hold up a house.
That’s why fans gathered around the sixth tee Sunday, hoping to see DeChambeau do what he did the day before. They weren’t disappointed. Those few seconds when his tee shot was in the air over the water and his tournament hopes were riding along were great theater.
DeChambeau literally leaned into the moment and when the ball landed safely on the other side albeit in a fairway bunker, he struck what is now the DeChambeau pose – two arms raised over his head like a fighter who’s just scored a knockout. In those two moments, he created his own logo.
“It was purely a reaction that just came out of nowhere,” DeChambeau said.
A moment later, Westwood took the more conventional path around the water rather than over it and, like DeChambeau, raised both arms in triumph after finding the fairway.
Here’s how they were different: DeChambeau had 88 yards left on his second shot on the par-5. Westwood, whose drive went 306 yards, had 257 yards into the green.
It would be difficult to find a better duo to demonstrate the difference between traditional golf and DeChambeau golf than his Sunday pairing with Westwood, whose career excellence probably isn’t fully appreciated in the United States. At times in the final round, they looked as if they were playing different holes, eventually meeting at the green.
Yet when Westwood holed a dicey 6-footer for a closing par, he forced DeChambeau to beat him – with his putter. That’s the way golf works, crazy as it sometimes seems.
DeChambeau had made a 37-footer for a birdie on the fourth hole and a 50-footer for a momentum-saving par at the 11th, which may have been the most important of the 277 strokes he had at Bay Hill.
Some see DeChambeau as a symbol of the game’s decline into a technologically induced era where extreme power trumps everything. It doesn’t but being longer and stronger helps, whether it’s gouging shots out of ankle-deep rye grass or effectively turning every par-5 into a par-4.
Remember when Tiger-proofing courses was going to be a thing?
Now it’s DeChambeau the game is worried about.
“I don’t think you can Bryson-proof a course,” DeChambeau said, not bragging but going on to say the longest players will always have an advantage if they can keep the ball in play.
At Bay Hill, DeChambeau led the field in strokes gained off the tee – picking up a whopping seven strokes on the field while hitting just 32 of 56 fairways – but he’s not a one-note orchestra.
DeChambeau, as he showed in his virtuoso performance winning the U.S. Open last fall at Winged Foot, can play softball as well as hardball. The 6-iron shot he stung into the biting wind at the brutal par-3 17th hole Sunday while nursing a one-stroke lead was brilliance under pressure.
For many traditionalists, DeChambeau is an acquired taste, bringing an element of long-drive contest excessiveness to the game, but it works for him. He stands on tees and sees lines other players do not. He is eccentric but that is a source of pride.
All around Bay Hill during tournament week, there are posters and reminders of Palmer’s saying: “Play boldly.” That’s the DeChambeau way and he was wearing the champion’s red cardigan – size XL and a little tight in the shoulders – as a badge of honor.
DeChambeau keeps a letter from Palmer congratulating him on a Web.com Tour victory in his trophy case at home, a letter written a week before Palmer passed away.
He also received a surprise text from Tiger Woods on Sunday morning.
“One of the things that we talked about was, it’s not about how many times you get kicked to the curb or knocked down. It’s about how many times you can get back up and keep moving forward,” DeChambeau said, wearing his new sweater.
“I think this red cardigan is not only for Mr. Palmer, but I would say it’s a little bit for Tiger as well, knowing what place he’s in right now.”
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