Why Aaron Rai’s PGA Championship win resonates so deeply

In golf (again with feeling: as in life!) there are always corrections. For example, you might consider saving up for TaylorMade’s newest and baddest driver, the Qi4D Designer Series Shadowfall, available at Dick’s for $700. Or, with less financial stress, you can buy a 2017 TaylorMade M2, the make and model that Brandt Snedeker used when he won at Myrtle Beach this month. I saw one listed on Swing 2 for $209.99.

Talk about corrections: Part of the appeal of Aaron Rai’s win feels good at the PGA Championshipat nine under par, is his basic modesty, in this famously home-grown era. He has no social media presence, a driver nearly as old as Snedeker and a home in suburban Jacksonville, Fla., that Henry David Thoreau would likely recognize. Thoreau, in one sentence: “Simplify, simplify.”

You might want to check out Thoreau’s cabin at Walden Pond, where he lived for two years, two months and two days. You can walk there in six hours from Fenway Park, faster by public transportation.

What is it Bryson DeChambeau is it worth it on the open market, if he leaves LIV for greener pastures? I don’t know, never mind. Aaron Rai earned $3.7 million for winning the PGA Championship. If he worries about anything, it’s money, fame and success that change him. It doesn’t seem likely. He takes his cues from Thoreau. You can say that on Sunday afternoon. Golf reveals character like few things. This has been true forever.

Golf tries well. The game changes over time, of course, as all things do, but here’s a quick Big Three of putters: 14-club limit, a ball that weighs 1.62 ounces, play-it-like-it’s-a-basic. They work in and out of golf’s holy text, the rules. No rules, no golf. There is no golf tournament, however.

I have mentioned this sentence, from an earlier version and the preamble of the ever-changing regulation, more than a few times. I do this because it says it all:

“All players must conduct themselves in a disciplined manner, demonstrating courtesy and sportsmanship at all times, no matter how competitive they may be. This is the spirit of the game of golf.”

Aaron Rai is the soul of the game of golf.

I am fond of Robert MacIntyrethe Scottish left-hander and the Ryder Cupper. And believe me, I understand the spirit with which he gave the middle finger to the pond on the 15th at Augusta National during the Masters last month. We’ve all been there. The game can do strange things to any of us, anywhere. (I’ve been there a lot, LOT times, playing in front of nobody, for nothing.) But, really, this whole middle finger thing in the first roundwhile funny in the moment, it’s beyond unacceptable when you think about it all. For starters, MacIntyre is playing Augusta National as a guest. That pond is part of the challenge the club is presenting, part of the magnificence of the course and the tournament. That millions are watching goes without saying.

Behave in a disciplined manner, show courtesy and sportsmanship. It’s not complicated.

Sergio Garcia whistle fit on the second tee in Sunday’s round at Augusta last month was even worse – he desecrated a small section of the course, the site of Garcia’s greatest golfing achievement. (He won there in 2017.) Garcia’s behavior rose to such a level that an Augusta National member, Geoff Yang, the tournament’s new rules chairman, felt compelled to come out on the course and discuss the matter with Garcia. I don’t know what Yang said, but I can give you an educated guess and reduce it to everyday language we all know: Not even close, dude.

And then there’s Rory McIlroy, after last week’s first round of the PGA Championship. He entered the press tent to meet with a small group of reporters. A PGA of America public affairs officer, Greg Dillard, opened proceedings with this:

“Rory McIlroy is with us at the 108th PGA Championship. How would you describe your opening round?”

“Light,” McIlroy said. No joy, all heat.

I get it, we all do. I’ve been there (under completely different circumstances) as we all have been. You’re angry, you’re taking it out on the wrong person. In the event, McIlroy shot a 74 and was not happy about it. He was four shots away from a good mood. McIlroy’s answer was an honest one, and his honesty, 20 years on now, is one of the things that makes McIlroy special.

But a few things here. His one-word response downgrades what Dillard’s job, fittingly, requires him to do — help get the word out about the proceedings from the PGA Championship to the wider world. But here’s a more significant point: McIlroy is lucky that ANYONE takes care of his first round score of 108 The PGA Championship at all. It’s easy to lose track of that when you’ve been doing this whole game of being the world’s elite golfer for big bucks and a lot of attention for a long time. But that’s the starting point that makes McIlroy’s entire public life possible: People care. His one word response was neither polite nor disciplined. In general, he lacked sportsmanship.

“Okay, thanks — we’ll open it up for questions,” Dillard said, about as perfect as a press tent moderator could be in that situation. In short, McIlroy seemed to have a reset, and from there on he did his job. Indeed, he has been a joy to cover, in general and over the years. Every last one of us has our moments.

Aaron Rai is coming. He’ll be a public figure from here on out in a way he wasn’t before the PGA Championship last week. Human nature is human nature. But this guy has thus very much at its core. We could all see it in a single afternoon. But this game will push anything to our limits, even Aaron Rai. That old preamble is always there as a helpful reminder.