NEWTOWN SQUARE, Pa. — Garrick Higoa 27-year-old golfer from South Africa, is as chill as a golfer can be. But early Thursday morning, in the chilly air here in affluent suburban Philadelphia, a feeling of sickness came over him. Higgo was in Aronimink Golf ClubThe practice putting green, hard by the clubhouse and about 15 feet above the first raised fairway of the course, when the starter said these words:
“From Memphis, Tenn., 2003 The PGA Championship winner, Shaun Michel.”
The first man in Higgo’s three had been called to the tee and the two-stroke penalty from Higgo was already in motion. Rule 5.3a.
Everything else is commentary.
From below, Higgo could hear his American box urgently yelling, “Come on, come on, come on.”
It didn’t matter.
Garrick Higgo was late to the tee. Not late in fashion. Two shots late. He bounded down the hill, sweater on his big frame, field sweeper in hand.
He is a large man, listed as six foot six, probably around 200 pounds, with oak legs and a thick waist. Higgo knew, as professionals always do, who his playing partners would be from Thursday to Friday. In this case, Shaun Michelnow 57, and Michael Brennan, a former Wake Forest golfer who won on Tour last year. They were on the fourth set of the first group’s day off and their time was 7:18 a.m. When Higgo arrived, it was 7:19.
Before that, the day had been extraordinary, if you can call any day you play in a major league extraordinary. This is Higgo’s eighth degree.
He arrived at the course well before sunrise, which was at 5:46 a.m. Thursday. His caddy, Austin Gaugert, was already there. Higgo saw his physiotherapist. He went to the gym. The morning was cold, still and damp. He walked down the range, to the east side of Aronimink’s massive English-style clubhouse. He went to the short game practice area on the north side of the clubhouse.
Gaugert, a tall, lanky Wisconsinite, handed Higgo his club, placed a practice club in Higgo’s locker in the clubhouse, and headed for the first ferry. Higgo went to small practice putting greens on the south side of the clubhouse; he was coming and hanging out and not worrying about anything but keeping warm when Michel’s name was called. Maybe he didn’t hear her, but he heard his box calling him. It was everywhere, players and coaches all over the green. 7:30 tee time, 7:42 tee time. Tournament golf is a parade and a march. Someone picked up the phone. It was 7:19. Higgo was told of his two-stroke penalty as soon as he arrived on the tee.
Higgo turned pro in 2019. He has played and won all over the world. He knows the drill. Under normal circumstances, in major championships and on the PGA Tour, the first player of a group is called to the group at the correct group time. Players must be on the tee, club in hand, at that time. The penalty for not being there – in shirt, club and ball in hand – is two strokes.
It doesn’t matter if your delay doesn’t result in a game delay.
It doesn’t matter if, according to the order of play, you are first, second or third.
It doesn’t matter if there are extenuating circumstances. In other words, there are no extenuating circumstances.
‘That’s 2 strokes’: Pro shows up late, penalized at PGA Championship
Dylan Dethier
You can read the exact language in the USGA rulebook. It’s all written. If you are more than five minutes late, you are disqualified. A PGA official told Higgo he was taking a two-stroke penalty before Higgo hit his first shot on a 430-yard par-4. He drove it up the middle, dropped the ball to the back of the green and two-putted for a score that looked like a 4 but was a 6 on the card. He was two over 1. He was one under through 18. Thirty-five out, 34 in for a strong 69.
Reviewing the early morning events with reporters after his round, Higgo’s mindset was not a picture of clarity. Higo didn’t seem to realize that Micheel had already been called to the tee. He described meeting with PGA of America rules officials when he entered.
“I was just trying to get evidence – I feel like any of you would have done the same,” he said. “I was there on time, but the rule is, if you’re a second late, you’re late. So if you think about it, I was there on time, if you know what I mean.”
Not completely.
He was handed his card and shown his penalty. His limit gave his driver. “I just focused on what I have to do,” Higgo said. “I mean, I wasn’t going to give up and shoot 80.”
Higgo thinks of Ernie Els as an uncle and Gary Player as a grandfather. In 2018, during UNLV’s spring break, Higgo stayed with Els in South Florida and told him he was uncomfortable with the party scene at UNLV. He is a devout Christian and, although he looks like a surfer in the tradition of Jeff Spicoli, he is not at all. Els told Higgo that he was mature enough, and his game was mature enough, to go pro. Higgo turned pro the following year. He won the Portuguese Open the following year.
On Thursday, Els had some new advice for his protégé.
“The kid should be on the tee five minutes before his tee time,” Els said by text. “End of story. You can argue until you’re blue in the face. But every young golfer knows that, too.”
It wasn’t long before Higgo’s two-shot penalty was a topic of discussion among players and players. Some wondered if a two-stroke penalty was too extreme, that one stroke might be enough to deter.
“I don’t know what the penalty should be, but you have to have something,” Brooks Koepka said.
“Two is kind of heavy, but it happens so rarely, maybe two is the right number,” said Ludvig Aberg.
In his long career, Jack Nicklaus was never late for a little time. He never failed to count his clubs on the first ball. He never signed an incorrect score card. The starting point for tournament golf is a measure of discipline and adherence to the rules of the game.
“It’s a rule,” Higgo said in a burst of clarity. “And I broke the rule.”

