Bryson DeChambeau managed to hijack the Open Championship last week without winning, his behavior and personality stomping on the event the way he big-footed through the high grass off the fifth fairway on Friday, creating a rules ruckus that overshadowed the golf itself.
Ultimately, Ryan Fox etched his name onto the Claret Jug and his finish into the minds of dreamers everywhere, giving this Open Championship the uplifting result it deserved even as the DeChambeau storyline simmered.
DeChambeau seems to crave attention as much as trophies, having built a personal industry around his online antics, and playing the role of victim on Friday – right down to looking like a child threatening to hold his breath until he got his way with R&A rules officials – was a moment that would send brand managers (though apparently not his) into crisis mode.
For someone obsessed with audience engagement, DeChambeau may be heartened by the bonfire of social-media reaction to his rules kerfuffle, which prompted an avalanche of memes, hot takes and text threads that sparked through cyberspace, though it challenged the notion that there is no such thing as bad publicity.
DeChambeau is an awkward character who lives in his own peculiar universe.
He has a consuming curiosity which has freed him to play golf differently. His clubs are different and forever changing, his swing is both muscular and robotic, and he is the ultimate technician in a game that used to be dominated by artists, though, Bryson being Bryson, he has argued that scientists are artists.
He has won two U.S. Opens and his victory over Rory McIlroy in 2024 at Pinehurst No. 2, capped by his memorable long bunker shot on the 72nd hole, has an everlasting glow. DeChambeau has never been more embraced by fans than he was that hot, sweaty weekend, parading his trophy through groups of spectators in the darkness, even as a substantial portion of them ached over McIlroy’s near-miss.
Some of that goodwill has evaporated, though.
There are many stories about DeChambeau’s good deeds and he seems to mean well, though he would benefit from not trying so hard at times.
Intentionally or not, DeChambeau is an antagonist. There is a motive to much of what he does and there are times when it feels like a splinter in a thumb.
Not everyone is buying what he’s selling, in part because he tends to believe he is the smartest person in the room and proclaims that he and the mercenary LIV Golf know better than everyone else despite overwhelming proof they are wrong.
When Rory McIlroy said last week of DeChambeau, “I’m not particularly fond of him. I think a lot of it is performative. I think a lot of it is for attention,” it wasn’t so much revelatory as it was reinforcing the reality of DeChambeau’s persona.
Intentionally or not, DeChambeau is an antagonist. There is a motive to much of what he does and there are times when it feels like a splinter in a thumb. There are also many instances when he spends extra time with First Tee kids away from cameras and donates his time and resources to others.
Jon Rahm suggested that DeChambeau played some of his best golf this year despite personal issues “I wouldn’t wish on anyone.” For all of his mechanical tendencies, DeChambeau’s emotions occasionally come to the surface, whether it’s tears he won’t explain or a ruling he won’t accept.
There is a perpetual friction attached to DeChambeau and he leaves Royal Birkdale having missed two big opportunities.
The first was his chance to win the Claret Jug, an opportunity he gave himself by riding his aggressive approach over Birkdale’s sun-bleached humps and bumps. DeChambeau was right there – despite the two-shot penalty heard ’round the golf world – until a Sunday triple bogey fatally punctured his balloon.
Bryson DeChambeau was done in by a Sunday triple bogey.
KATE MCSHANE, R&A VIA GETTY IMAGES
Links golf, especially when the conditions are as fiery as they were last week, requires nuance and patience, neither of which fit DeChambeau’s style, though he is relentless in pursuing his own path.
The lingering miss, the one that will stay with DeChambeau into the future, is his handling of the rules issue that dominated much of the championship. He managed to make a difficult situation worse, damaging his precious brand in a way that a couple of YouTube videos can’t bleach away.
DeChambeau was within his rights to question the ruling that he had, essentially, improved his lie when studying his options after his tee shot on the fifth hole had been found among the high grass and brambles.
He can be given the benefit of the doubt as to whether he knowingly trampled the high grass behind his ball but that doesn’t change the reality that DeChambeau appeared to improve his position. That’s why the two-stroke penalty was warranted.
“I've known him for a long time, and he’s a lot of things, but he’s definitely not a cheater,” Scottie Scheffler said Sunday afternoon.
The image of DeChambeau pleading his case in the dying light late Friday afternoon and eventually threatening to withdraw from the championship made him look like a petulant child ready to take his ball and go home.
Players often disagree with penalties they are given but DeChambeau turned it into bad theatre.
Had DeChambeau followed through on his threat to withdraw, it would have been the height of hubris and a colossally damaging decision. Someone, thankfully, came to his senses.
For a guy who preaches the overused gospel of “growing the game,” he set a poor example and made it worse by refusing to talk about what happened.
Players are under no obligation to talk with the media but they do have an obligation to fans, sponsors, organizers and the greater game when they are playing for millions of dollars and a place in history. The money and glory come with that string attached, or at least they should.
What DeChambeau should have done was take a moment Saturday morning to publicly explain his behavior and apologize for how he acted.
DeChambeau’s consistent refusal to take questions from the media at the U.S. Open and the Open Championship reflects badly on him. The self-proclaimed man of the people routinely dismisses his congregation and, on those days when he walks past the gathered media and says a quick “Hello, everyone,” it smacks of condescension.
He could have said something to the effect of, “While I still do not agree with the two-stroke penalty I was given, I understand the rules and I’m disappointed by how I reacted to the situation. I’m sorry for my behavior, I meant no disrespect to the R&A and its rules officials and I regret what happened. I will use it to be better in the future.”
Instead, DeChambeau said nothing and reportedly sought out R&A chief Mark Darbon after Saturday’s third round to continue the conversation that should have ended before sundown on Friday.
The day is coming soon when DeChambeau finds himself at a career crossroads. LIV is on life support and, with his contract set to expire at the end of this season, DeChambeau will have choices to make.
Returning to the PGA Tour will be an option but not an easy one. Someone who has been inside meetings plotting the tour’s future said DeChambeau’s possible return prompts an inordinate amount of conversation among decision makers, as it should.
DeChambeau is a conundrum, an eccentric talent with an evangelist’s zeal and a headstrong self-belief. Despite what happened on Friday afternoon, the fans cheered DeChambeau on the weekend, many of them embracing his populist mentality.
The game is better with DeChambeau in it. In this case, however, DeChambeau needed to be better himself.
Top: Bryson DeChambeau managed to hijack the Open Championship.
STUART KERR, R&A VIA GETTY IMAGES
