Rahm wins, cashing all your tickets.
Starting your walk through the back-nine, you decide that today is the day. Your day. The day you can do no wrong, the day in which life has given you a free pass, a get-out-of-jail-free card for every possible situation.
Rahm’s afternoon hasn’t quite been flawless, but it just might be his day, too.
He follows that opening bogey with one more on the front nine, but counters them with that eagle and two birdies. That puts him in a share of the lead at the turn.
For a guy who’s never won a major, he should be feeling a bit nervous at this juncture – or at least anxious. He should be feeling the pressure of trying to walk in the footsteps of Seve and Ollie and Sergio, other Spaniards who have earned a green jacket.
Instead, Rahm appears cool, calm and collected – which in turn has you feeling the same way.
His back-nine isn’t the roller-coaster ride of the front side. He starts with three consecutive pars, birdies the par-5 13th hole, adds another par, birdies the par-5 15th hole, then closes with three consecutive pars. There are afternoons when sharing the lead at the turn and posting a 2-under score on the back wouldn’t be enough.
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This is not one of those afternoons.
To the disappointment of seemingly everyone except you, Rahm clinches the title when both Tiger and Phil, playing in the last pairing, fail to convert their birdie attempts on the final hole, each just barely missing putts on the low side.
You can hardly contain your excitement. Standing about 50 yards from the 18th green, your lusty “WOOOO!” can be heard on the TV broadcast amidst the groans of disappointment. A man standing just a few feet away smiles in your direction.
“Are you related to Jon?” he asks.
So caught up in the moment, you nearly answer, “Jon who?” before proudly composing this response: “Yes. He is my brother. Not by blood, but a visceral connection that will forever bond us, whether he knows it or not.”
The smile dropping from his lips, replaced by a quizzical look across his face, the man replies, “Well, um, congratulations to you guys.”
This was Rahm’s day, but it was also the day you could do no wrong. Just to prove it to yourself, you look down into your pocket amongst the sea of bodies in the gallery, click around on your phone, check the balance in your betting account and confirm what you already knew: This was your day, too.
