Support for Mickelson leaves Tiger on his own

Montgomerie fears home fans may turn on Woods at this week's US Open

(GETTY IMAGES)

Tiger Woods was ordered off Bethpage Black the minute he set foot on it yesterday. But there was no need for the world No 1 to worry when the course starter signalled to two State Troopers to escort him from the first tee. This was not the first manifestation of the anti-Tiger sentiment that Colin Montgomerie, among others, fears will break out here this week. This was but a mere rain delay.

Eventually, some 32 minutes later, the storm blew over Long Island and Woods was allowed to do what Woods invariably does on the Monday of a major. He whisked through nine holes of practice in two hours before abruptly jumping into a van back to the clubhouse, barely bothering to acknowledge the ever-swelling gallery as he did so. No autographs, no thrown balls, not even a tip of the cap?

Perhaps, however, this was not Tiger being his guarded self and he simply knew there was absolutely no point in trying to win over this crowd. He knows that they know that the most self-focused professional in the field knows that the New Yorkers will come to cheer on Phil and only Phil. This week more than any week.

Anybody in any doubt need only to have looked up at the two white bed-sheets stitched together and strewn across the front of a house on the road into the course. In truth, the spectacle was hard to miss. In giant letters, it said: "God bless you, Amy. Good luck, Phil. 2009 US Open." That said it all.

Although it probably didn't. Come Thursday and tee-off time in the game's toughest major, the locals will doubtless have much, much more to say. And not all of the yells may be messages of affection towards their man Mickelson, who bravely plays while his wife awaits surgery for recently diagnosed breast cancer. Montgomerie, for one, is concerned that all the emotion will spill into something ugly. Namely Tiger-baiting.

"The only thing against him this week may be the crowd," wrote the Ryder Cup captain in his national newspaper column, in which he said that Woods was all but unbeatable here. "The New York crowd is different to any other because they will jeer their own. They don't come out to watch the golf, they come out to be part of it. They want to get involved, to shout, to be there in the mix. The respect for Tiger is huge, but there will be so much love for Phil Mickelson it could end up as an anti-Tiger feeling."

Nobody knows better than the Scot how vicious the NY crew can be – it was here, after all, where an American magazine felt obliged to hand out 30,000 "Be Nice To Monty" badges – although maybe Sergio Garcia could claim to. He bore the brunt of the abuse in 2002 as the mob homed in on his then propensity to waggle the club, over and over, before striking it. On the 16th hole of his second round, Garcia snapped, turning around to give the finger to a group who were counting down his twitches.

Bad move, as his playing partner Rocco Mediate quickly pointed out. "What d'you mean?" asked the young Spaniard. "You'll find out, probably for the rest of your career coming to New York," replied Mediate. By the next day the taunts were relentless. "While we're young, Sergio," shouted one heckler as Garcia jiggled his driver. That happened to be one of the witticisms that was printable. Garcia had committed the cardinal sin. He had reacted. As Mickelson points out, that is a big no-no here. "I think it's important, whether it's positive feedback or negative feedback, you have to let it go in one ear and out the other," he says. "You have to enjoy the moment and enjoy the atmosphere of it."

Yet there is obviously more to the synergy between Mickelson and the New York fans than his ability to brush off their banter. There is something deep to be explained, something that transcends the usual golfer-gallery relationship. Not since Arnold Palmer had his army has golf seen or heard anything like it. As Chris Berman put it yesterday: "I went to a baseball game and a golf tournament broke out."

Of course, the controversial American commentator was referring to that 2002 US Open here at Bethpage, when the whole Mickelson-New York love affair famously began.

Mickelson was playing his 40th major, was still waiting to win one, and when Tiger strode out it was an all too familiar, bloodless scenario. But the New Yorkers had come to witness a fight and when Mickelson suddenly gave them one, battling back to within a shot, their gratitude grew in its volume. "Tiger was getting tougher to catch but the fans weren't giving up and neither was Phil," so his caddie Jim "Bones" Mackay told Golf Digest. "All you could hear was, 'Let's Go Mick-el-son'."

Jeff Maggert, his playing partner, was a dumbstruck bystander, saying: "Man, I've never seen a crowd behind a player more than that in a round of golf. It was amazing."

As is his way, Woods eventually prevailed by three shots, but if anything Mickelson's majorless plight seemed only to cement the bond. New York is not in the habit of applauding losers but here was an exception. They shared with him in his agonies at Shinnecock Hills in 2004, at Winged Foot in 2006 and in between had swigged for joy at his USPGA victory at Baltusrol. Lefty had consummated their marriage.

Which brings us to Bethpage '09 and the tournament that will unarguably be the most emotional of Mickelson's career so far. Tiger might be the overwhelming favourite with the bookies, but when it comes to popularity there is only one winner. Cheers, jeers and probably tears. So much for the city that never weeps.