PEBBLE BEACH — Allisen Corpuz doesn’t remember much about when she first got into golf. She was four years old, maybe five. Time has blurred the origin story. Her parents’ house was on the left side of the 7th hole of Kapolei Golf Course in Hawai’i, and her father Marcos loved the game and wanted to share it with her, so he put a club in her hands and dragged her to the driving range on weekends.


The memories, initially, were not warm ones.

“Honestly, I sucked,” Corpuz said. “I just wanted to get better. I think that's just kind of who I am as a person. Just if something can be done better, that's how I want to do it. I mean, no one can hit the ball at first, right?”

Over time, that determination morphed into a quiet intensity.

At first, her goal was simple. Hit it to the first flag. Each week, each month, each year, the goal would expand — hit it a little farther. That little driving range, though no one knew it at the time, turned out to be fertile ground, the soil where the seed of a prodigy was planted.

“I just had so much fun,” Corpuz said.

Joy is not an emotion that people typically associate with Corpuz. On the golf course, she is buttoned up and resolute, never revealing much. Her game often feels like a reflection of her personality: steady and never flashy. Through the first 68 holes of the U.S. Women’s Open, she stacked up fairways and greens like a brick mason might build a wall, connecting one part to the next, slowly constructing something solid. But on the 69th hole of the tournament, the 15th at Pebble, a flicker of emotion broke through. She rolled in a birdie putt (her sixth of the day) and she offered up a tiny fist pump after she tucked the ball in her pocket. She had a four-shot lead over Charley Hull.

“I think that was the moment when I kind of knew, like, I just need to get home,” Corpuz said.

A meaningless bogey on 17, then an uneventful par on 18 put a bow on it. Corpuz seemed so unaffected by what she’d just accomplished after she tapped in the winning putt, she didn’t even celebrate. She tucked the ball in her pocket and turned to hug playing partner Nasa Hataoka, as if to comfort her for firing a disappointing 76.

Corpuz might seem, at first glance, like an unassuming U.S. Women’s Open winner. This is her first victory on the LPGA Tour, and just a few years ago, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to turn professional. But when you consider what the U.S. Women’s Open does to the game’s top female players, twisting them into mental pretzels because they want to hoist the trophy so badly, it makes sense that someone as reserved and unpretentious as Corpuz would handle the added pressure of playing the tournament at Pebble.

All week, the game’s biggest names wilted as they struggled to deal with the heightened expectations of a historic venue. World No. 1 Jin-young Ko couldn’t find the clubface and missed the cut. Nelly Korda looked lost with driver, finishing dead last in strokes gained off the tee (-3.26) for players who made the cut. Lydia Ko blew any chance of winning on Thursday with a disastrous quadruple bogey. Even Rose Zhang, the betting favorite coming into the tournament, couldn’t overcome a cold putter, finishing 58th in strokes gained on the green (-1.08). That Zhang finished tied for 9th with what looked like her B-game should probably serve as a warning to the rest of this generation. She’s coming.

“I wish a couple putts would have dropped, but other than that, very proud of how I stood my ground,” Zhang said.

Corpuz, who possesses one of the game’s least complicated swings, seemed unaffected by it all, which tracks with what her friends say about her attitude toward life on the LPGA Tour.

“She lives in reality,” said Addie Baggarly, one of Corpuz’s friends. “She’ll be the first to tell you it’s not all glitz and glam.”

Corpuz never felt like a prodigy growing up, someone destined for greatness, in part because she grew up in the shadow of Michelle Wie, who also attended Punahou School, a private academy in Hawai’i. Wie was viewed as a transcendent talent, someone who was going to change the women’s game forever, and it felt absurd to think of herself in a similar vein, even when she broke Wie’s record and became the youngest woman to qualify for the U.S. Women’s Amateur Public Links at 10 years, 3 months and 9 days.

“I never really thought I'd get this far,” Corpuz said. “Just watching Michelle, she's been such a huge role model to me, and it was really awesome to, yeah, break her record for the Public Links. But I've never really compared myself to her. I've always wanted to make my own name. She's just served as a really big inspiration.”

If there was one moment Sunday when everything threatened to come undone for Corpuz, it happened early on the back nine when she and Hataoka fell a full hole behind Bailey Tardy and Hyo-joo Kim, and were told they were being put on the clock.

“We got put on the clock on 11, and I had to go to the bathroom,” said Jay Monahan, Corpuz’s caddie. “I was like ‘This is the worst possible time, but I have to go so I’m going to do that.’ I was sprinting up the hill. We got to 13, and she was between 5 and 6 iron. The wind completely laid down after she’d gone with 5, so she backed off. The rules official came up and told us we had a bad time. He told us if we had another bad time, it was a stroke penalty. I should know that, but I didn’t know it, because typically it’s just a fine for slow play (on the LPGA Tour). I said ‘Wait, we get stroked if we get another one?’ and I think she heard me say that. I think that was a little bit stressful.”

Rushing to catch up, Corpuz hit a mediocre iron shot to the front of the 13th green, leaving her 58 feet from the hole. Monahan was getting anxious. But then Corpuz coaxed her lag putt to 2 feet.

“After she two-putted that one, which was very difficult, I felt pretty good,” Monahan said. “I was eerily calm the rest of the round.”

Corpuz said when she woke up Sunday morning, she tried to tell herself that it wouldn’t destroy her if she didn’t win. It had already been a great week at a beautiful venue, and nothing was going to change that. But she couldn’t calm down. She called her mental coach, Bill Nelson, who reminded her to slow down and enjoy the moment.

“My mind was racing,” Corpuz said. “This was something I dreamed of, but at the same time never really expected to happen.”

When Corpuz walked into her post-round press conference, there was a part of her that still wasn’t convinced it was real. When a reporter informed her that former President Barack Obama, a Punahou alum, had tweeted his congratulations and said he looked forward to a round together at Kapolei, she seemed like she was in a bit of a daze.

“I mean, he's done a lot in his career,” Corpuz said. “Yeah, that's really special.”

 feels like a hilariously understated way to describe a former U.S. Senator and President, but understated might as well be Allisen Corpuz’s brand.


Here is an even better description: United States Women’s Open champion.


Kevin Van Valkenburg is the Editorial Director of No Laying Up.

Corpuz Conquers Pebble

Her facial expression didn’t offer much, but Allisen Corpuz was grateful. On Friday, she made her first mistake in the U.S. Women’s Open, a costly three-putt on 11, but a steady par on 12 made it seem like a blip. Corpuz wasn’t paying attention to scoreboards, but her steady play had quietly moved into a tie for third. She was ready to press on.

Until her tee shot minutes later, which she dumped in the left fairway bunker on 13. Now it seemed like her mistakes might be compounding.

“I've actually been hitting that one right all week, so today I was just like, I want to hit (the) left center of the fairway,” Corpuz said. “Unfortunately, turned it over a little too much.”

There’s usually very little to glean emotionally from watching Corpuz play a round of golf. She and her caddie, Jay Monahan (no, not that one), maintain a subdued, even-keel synergy. You can spot an occasional fist bump or smile – but calm, cool and collected is generally the vibe.


That mistake, however, prompted a visibly rare moment of frustration. She stepped off the tee box, clenched her teeth and held onto her driver, attempting to correct her motion for a few seconds before accepting the consequences.

Once she and Monahan arrived at the scene of the crime, there was little discussion about what she should do. She pitched out with her second shot, but still had 88 yards to go. The margin for error was quickly increasing.


Corpuz refused to overthink it. She got her number, stood over the ball, drew the club back, and flushed it.


The ball landed five feet from the pin. Another indispensable par.

Corpuz’s game is rarely provocative or flashy, nor does it lend itself to the kind of birdie heroics that fill up highlight reels. But her smart, conservative play is reflective of the kind of player she is. Pebble Beach has platformed that. If you want to understand why she has a great chance to win her first major championship today, start here: She is someone whose golf is greater than the sum of her parts.

Other than, ironically, her driving accuracy (she ranks 3rd), her stats this year aren’t necessarily eye-catching – a likely part of why she was left out of the conversation.

“I honestly still need to get a little more comfortable, I think, in contention,” she said after her round on Friday vaulted her to second – where she remains heading into the final round. “So that's really been the focus this year, just really trying to put myself into that spot and then hopefully learn how to convert as it keeps happening.”

Lurking around at the Chevron Championship earlier in the year gave her a taste of it, but she faded out on the final day. A venue like Pebble Beach has given her the freedom to embrace who she is more than ever. Her brilliant irons and touch around the greens aren’t necessarily the flashiest, but shots like that par save have stacked up. It’s kept her in the hunt, all while flashier players have been blown out to sea.

Such a command didn’t reveal itself immediately. When she finished her first practice round, Corpuz was admittedly intimidated. She thought par would be a good score. After rounds of 69-70-71, she trails only Nasa Hataoka, producing arguably the most consistent threat to the U.S. Women’s Open – and shocking herself in the process.

It’s not the first time Corpuz has surprised herself.

The Hawaii native, who played six USGA championships before she took her talents to USC, has been an artist on po annua grasses for years. She famously broke fellow Punahou School alum Michelle Wie West’s record as the youngest player to qualify for the U.S. Amateur Public Links and enjoyed a standout AJGA career.

But for as quickly as she broke out on the scene, the self-belief in her own game lent itself to a slower pace. “She was a quiet freshman,” said Stew Burke, who was an assistant coach at the University of California during Corpuz’s career.. “She was a good player, but she hadn’t found the belief and identity in her game she was capable of.”


Top fives were common, and team wins were plentiful – but she struggled to break through in capturing a win of her own. Her senior year, thoughts of not pursuing a professional career began to percolate in her brain. But a “why not” realization struck her. “I figured I could always decide to drop the clubs, but it would be harder to pick them back up,” she said.

Then came the college wins – two, to be exact, and a Masters in Supply Chain Management. After wrapping up a fifth year at USC, she wanted to keep her amateur status on the potential of making the Curtis Cup team, so she again delayed turning pro. She made the Curtis Cup and ended up sweeping all her matches. Her confidence began to build. Four months later, after three grueling stages of LPGA Q-School, Corpuz earned full LPGA status on her first try.

“I came out knowing I’m good enough,” she said minutes after getting her card.

That propelled her into a solid rookie season, where she made 17 cuts in 21 events and finished 41st in the Rolex Rankings. Her expectations were mild – and she surpassed them, calling the season “way more fun than she expected.” Along the way, she began to find her voice away from the golf course. In 2023, she was the only player on the LPGA to pen a lengthy statement speaking out against the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade.

Many players later shared a similar, templated sentiment, but ultimately, Corpuz was the only player to pen her own reflection. The same fearlessness was now being reflected in her play as a professional athlete – a scenario that almost never came to fruition.


There’s little evidence on the results side to suggest Corpuz would be here. But that subtlety may be her greatest superpower. In her press conferences, she’s quick to explain her processes and background – but never gets ahead of herself, unless prompted. She is measured but never rushed. In control, but rarely effusive.

At this point, Allisen Corpuz winning the U.S. Women’s Open wouldn’t surprise anyone.


“I don't even think I could put it into words,” she said.

Surprise! Allisen Corpuz has been here all along

PEBBLE BEACH — When Michelle Wie West arrived at the 18th tee Friday in the 2nd round of the Women’s U.S. Open, there was a hint of sadness hanging in the air. No one wanted to talk about it, most of all Wie West, but it was obvious. A career that once contained so much promise was on the cusp of ending, and very little about the scene felt worthy of an icon.

The weather was dreary, the crowd that remained in the fading daylight was noticeably sparse, and Wie West was miles off the cutline. She needed a par just to break 80.

Twenty years ago — when it seemed like she might do for women’s golf what Tiger Woods did for the men’s game — it would have been impossible to imagine a curtain call so somber. Wie West’s journey during the last two decades probably ought to serve as a reminder that hype is a beast that is impossible to control, and while predictions may seem harmless, they can also feel unintentionally cruel, particularly if they become the framing for someone’s real life.

Wie West didn’t become the golfer we thought and hoped she would. That is an opinion that any credible person would also regard as a statement of fact.

But there is another side to the Michelle Wie West story, and in the midst of her wistful exit, may it serve as a hopeful counterweight.

America has a habit of picking apart our child prodigies, of breaking their spirit and then leaving them to fend for themselves once their talent begins to erode. We do not extend much grace to the athletes who disappoint us, especially after they tease us with possibility.

The machine, however, did not break Wie West. Though she did not become an all-time great, finishing her career with only five wins (one of them a major), she leaves the game with the reputation as one of its best people. We watched her grow up, watched her evolve from a precocious teenager into a thoughtful, warm, open-hearted woman. Along the way, she picked up a Stanford degree and started her own family.

That she secured a happy ending in her personal life feels like a bit of an upset considering the glare she grew up in after she thrust herself into the spotlight by qualifying for an LPGA event in 2002, at the improbable age of 12. Her swing was so graceful, her tempo so enviable, it felt like a seismic moment in the women’s game. Nike signed her to a $20 million marketing deal when she was 15, three years before she was even eligible to join the LPGA Tour. Although there were trophies and triumphs along the way — none sweeter than her U.S. Women’s Open win at Pinehurst in 2014 — what also came to pass were injuries and swing changes, disappointment and doubt, gossip, controversy and criticism.

Yet there was always something magnetic about her that commanded the attention of millions, even to the end. If you were one of the millions of girls who fell in love with golf in the early 2000s, there is a good chance you dreamed, however briefly, of bombing the ball off the tee like Wie West did in her prime. There were hundreds of those women lining the fairways at Pebble this week, women now in their 30s just like Wie West, juggling jobs and families and finances.

When Wie West smashed one final drive down the middle of the 18th fairway and began the last hole of her competitive career, you could see a few grateful tears welling up. Not just in her eyes, but in the eyes of people lining the hole.

“I hope that I’ve inspired girls to go out there and make fearless decisions,” Wie West said.


As Wie West sized up her second shot, her parents (B.J. and Bo) looked on from just inside the rope line. They had Wie West’s daughter, Makenna, tucked in a stroller along for the celebration, but the 3-year-old was fast asleep. B.J., once cast as a domineering and controlling presence in his daughter’s life, could not stop grinning. He was so happy for her, he said, because of the contentment she’d found in her life.

“What a beautiful place for this to come to an end,” he said, looking out across the water.

It had not been a spectacular round for Wie West, nothing like the way she played when she shot 68 in the second round of the Sony Open in 2004 at age 14, the moment it seemed like anything (even a Masters appearance, via a possible US Public Links title!) was possible for her. But posting a great score wasn’t really the point. Wie West wanted to experience one last competitive golf memory and share it with her husband, Jonnie West, the Golden State Warriors Director of Basketball Operations.

“Honestly, the thing that stands out the most for me was having my husband on the bag,” Wie West said. “He's my partner in life, and to have him walk down 18 with me this week, to have him there by my side the whole week just meant everything to me.”

Wie West lofted her second shot up over the big Cypress tree that splits the middle of the 18 fairway, then came up well short with her third swing, the ball splashing violently in the front bunker. An up-and-down seemed unlikely, particularly on a day when Wie West hadn’t made a putt longer than two feet. The best she could do from a mediocre lie was to blast out to 33 feet from the hole. It looked like her career would end with another middling bogey and some polite applause.


But then something exquisite happened. Wie West sent her par putt trickling toward the hole, and for a second, the whole course was quiet. It drifted right, then on its last rotation, it tumbled into the cup. Wie and her husband erupted in laughter. For someone who struggled with putting her entire career, who said early in the week she looked forward to never doing another putting drill, it was the rare instance of where golf offers up a merciful gift to someone it had long tormented.

“The game is a funny game,” Wie West said. “Making that long putt on 18 definitely was a sweeter sendoff. It just was such an emotional day starting from 1 tee. I've definitely held back tears the entire round. It was fun. It was great to have my last round here at Pebble Beach. It definitely feels surreal right now.”

As she walked off the 18th green to sign her scorecard, Wie West was greeted by USGA president Mike Whan, who handed her a bouquet of flowers. Her family, including her suddenly-awake daughter, wrapped their arms around her. In the midst of the maelstrom of people, her husband Jonnie, was noticeably glowing with pride.

“I think golf will still mean the same [to her], but obviously what she’s doing in golf will be a lot different,” West said. “I’ve heard her talk a lot lately about having a responsibility to the game, like how the [LPGA’s] 13 founders did, of growing the game of golf, especially for women. I think it’s also going to be beyond that, not just golf. She wants to try and bring equity and equality into the game. It’s not just something she’s doing for notoriety. She wants future generations to be in a better place than she is.”

There was a time in Wie West’s 20s when, to escape the pressures of golf, she began to dabble in abstract painting. She showed a real talent for it and was told she could probably sell some of her work, but she wasn’t interested. Nourishing her creative side was rewarding enough. But it helped her develop an eye for certain things, and when Nike talked to her about designing an outfit for her final tournament, she tapped into that part of her brain and came back with an idea. She wanted to turn the iconic Nike Swoosh into an ocean wave, to represent movement and time. Nike loved the idea and used the image on shoes, sweatshirts and hats they made for her family to wear.

“The movement of the water has always inspired me,” Wie West said late Friday, as the sun was setting behind her. “With a wave, everything comes and goes.”

Not every wave crashes when it reaches the end of its journey. Some of the most fascinating ones crest early and end peacefully. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t beautiful to witness.

Kevin Van Valkenburg is the Editorial Director of No Laying Up

Michelle Wie West's Longest Wave

There are quite a few exciting storylines going on during this week’s US Women’s Open: the venue, Rose Zhang’s U.S. Women's Open as a pro, Michelle Wie West's final tournament, and more. But the storyline I find myself thinking about randomly throughout the day is Amy Olson playing in a major championship while seven months pregnant.

As a currently nine-month pregnant woman, I bow down to Amy. Well, I can’t really bend at the waist at the moment, but I’ve been going through a mental checklist of all of the body changes one experiences at 30 weeks pregnant. And I keep coming to the same conclusions: 1. Women are amazing and 2. How the heck is she able to walk 18 holes at Pebble Beach day after day, let alone, take a full golf swing?!

While some of you reading this article may have experienced a pregnancy, I’m assuming a majority of you have not personally been pregnant. At seven months pregnant, Amy is dealing with:

15-20 pound weight gain primarily around her core. Imagine duct-taping a 20 lb dumbbell to your stomach and going out to play and walk 18 holes. Please let me know if anyone tries this.

50% increase in blood: Your heart rate is significantly higher at both rest and during movement just to compensate for the increase in blood flowing through your body. Trying to keep your breath and body responses under control while walking an undulating, coastal golf course with an already elevated heart rate. I get winded walking up one flight of stairs.

Core muscles: basically don’t exist anymore. They are smushed and separated. And a human baby is kicking your organs while you try to swing a golf club. In a major championship.

Emotional: your brain becomes scrambled eggs. So keeping your emotional and mental composure while remaining focused on competing in one of the biggest weeks of the year. Again, HOW?!

I traveled to Pebble Beach with Soly back in February to watch him play in the Pebble Beach Pro-Am. I was 15 weeks pregnant, didn’t look visibly pregnant, and while I had successfully navigated the brutal first trimester and was at the beginning of the second, I still felt pregnant. Just WALKING Pebble Beach kicked my ass. I had to take a seat every few holes. This Florida girl was not prepared for the California hilly terrain. Every other hole, I would sneak inside the ropes to get some of the tee box food to enjoy while I discussed the shared back/body/foot aches between Bill Murray and myself.

I am not a professional athlete but consider myself to be a physically fit and athletic person. I was a collegiate athlete and cheered professionally after college so I’ve got a decent amount of kinesthetic awareness. Amy obviously has way more body awareness, muscle memory, and control over her movements than I ever will.

I feel like I’m currently living in a strange, foreign body that rapidly changes every day and I’ve recently reached the milestone of running into things because I forget how big my stomach has become. So it is just astounding to me that Amy can evolve her golf mechanics at the speed that her body is also changing. Pregnancy is the fastest a woman will ever gain weight and it’s all concentrated in one area of her body – changing the way she balances, walks, holds a club, stands over a golf ball, picks up a golf ball, puts a tee in the ground (if I did that right now I would not get back up) and she’s doing it day after day.

Amy, I know this week and experience is one you will cherish forever. It’s an incredible blessing to get to be a pregnant woman living out your dreams and career while your son or daughter joins you along for the ride. One day, sharing the story and pictures of you playing in the US Women’s Open at Pebble Beach once he or she is old enough to understand will make them even more proud to have you as a mom.

Thank you for being an inspirational example to other pregnant women and those who hope to become moms in the future. I hope you can get some good rest and relaxation after this week. I’m exhausted just thinking about going for a walk. You’re a badass.

Thank You, Amy Olson

It’s a sequence of numbers Rose Zhang has likely heard more this week than she ever has in her life. A sequence of numbers that has shadowed her every move at Pebble Beach, serving as both a signal of what’s possible and cruelly, an unspoken expectation many will hold for her. It’s a nagging reminder that numbers are all that matter in competitive golf to a player who hardly ever plays her golf with a number in mind. But it also contains so much promise, following her around like an aura.

Zhang has been heralded as one of the brightest minds to enter the professional ranks, a young woman preternaturally wise and composed — and when she took a seat Tuesday morning for her press conference at her fifth U.S. Women’s Open, first as a professional, she was happy to describe the course record-setting round few actually saw.

“It came as a blur,” Zhang said. “It was the second round, and I was preparing myself to just be able to hit fairways and greens because that's what you have to do here. The greens are tiny. One of the caddies in our group actually kept all my stats for the round, and I apparently hit 18 greens. It was a little bit windy that day, so it really does help when you are out here and being able to hit greens and giving yourself a lot of good birdie opportunities.”

Seldom is her first round the best round. And not often is that second round a course record – though that 63 last fall was not her first time rewriting a course’s record book. In her freshman year at Stanford, Zhang set the course record at Meadow Club, the Alistar MacKenzie design just north of San Francisco, with a 64. One onlooker described the 63 at Pebble during the 2022 Carmel Cup as the “easiest” he had ever seen, with Rose’s Stanford teammate, Rachel Heck, backing up that assessment. “I can’t say I was surprised at all,” Heck says. “We were all like ‘Yeah, that seems about right.’”

A few things have changed since that fateful day last September. For starters, Zhang won’t be playing the same Pebble Beach. Yes, it will still play as a par 72, but the setup this week is expected to be a true US Open test put on by the USGA. Beyond the heightened rough and slick greens, the course will play over 350 yards longer than it did when Rose shot her 63.

Ask Zhang what else is different and she is quick to laugh. “One, I’m not an amateur anymore,” she says. A not-so-subtle reminder snuck up on Zhang this week when she exited her presser and former teammate Sadie Englemann reminded Zhang she’s no longer allowed at the amateur dinner, resulting in a fit of laughter. But she’s never too far away from the same teammates who she bid painful goodbyes just a month ago when she ended her collegiate playing career. Not only do they remain friends, but they also found time to play golf together earlier this week — Zhang spent two out of her three official practice rounds with Englemann and Kelly Xu (with Stanford assistant coach Brooke Riley serving as Xu’s caddie for the week). This time, there were grandstands and TV towers surrounding them, but it was hard to tell the difference between this walk and a typical Stanford women’s golf practice round.

Like the course records, Zhang has a way of making these moments feel effortless, whether it’s chumming it up with sponsors in Pro-Ams or being grilled by media in pressers. (In a month’s time, the attendees for her media sessions have tripled). The new demands on her time, and the way she has handled it, are all part of her grace. But it has certainly tested her energy after the breakout win at Liberty National.

“Are you Rose Zhang?” is a question no longer contained by a golf course.

There’s an ease and effortlessness that exudes from Rose when she plays golf, but once upon a time, it was not so easy. Swing coach George Pinnell fondly recalls a moment when Rose had lost her trademark patience. She was 12.

She’d just started competing on the Toyota Tour, and in her first six months, she pulled together some high finishes – but not one win. That Christmas break, the frustration seeped through. Weekly visits to Pinnell’s Golf Academy in Rowland Heights were typical, and so were their talks. He vividly remembers a frustrated Zhang asking him when she’d actually start winning.

Two months later, she won the next Toyota Tour Cup event she played in. Pinnell has remained by Zhang’s side for nearly a decade, and although her visits aren’t as often as they used to be, there’s very little about Zhang that’s changed. A little more extroversion, a little more balance, and yeah, the wins and course records piling up. But in eight years, Pinnell still sees a lot of the same driven competitor whose incredible tempo (yes, she’s always had it) and self-awareness put her in a class above the rest of his pupils.

“In order to be in contention and play well, you have to make the cut first, right?” she said when reflecting on her success at the KPMG Women’s PGA Championship, where she found herself in the mix on the final day and ultimately finished tied for eighth.

Pinnell’s own self-motivation might have proven influential. At 77, he continues to work ten-plus hour days, and although he’s following his most popular student on a motorized scooter around Pebble Beach, he’s got all the energy to aid Zhang with her swing whenever she asks. He’ll grab his cane and observe, take swing videos and provide input when asked. “I don’t know how many of these I have left,” he says. A key part of her group, her entourage at Pebble Beach is the same as it’s looked for a long time. Her easygoing, carefree attitude also remains.

Maybe that course record will change. Life surely has. The goal isn’t defying expectations now, it’s meeting them. All of the golfing universe is watching. Yet for as much that has changed so fast around Rose Zhang, she’s — so far — stayed the same.  If she does somehow win it all this week, that’s the reason why.

The more Rose Zhang changes, the more she stays the same

PEBBLE BEACH — Jin Young Ko does not usually arrive on site for a major championship a full week week prior to the start of the tournament. Usually showing up Sunday night offers plenty of time to prep, to study the course and plot out a strategy with her caddie and coach. But something felt different about this year’s U.S. Open. Ko, the No. 1 player in the world, arrived in San Francisco on June 26, a full 10 days prior to the opening round.


“I wanted to eat oysters in San Fran,” she joked. “So I got here early.”


It was more than that, of course. Like so many of her peers, she understands what this week might mean for history. A U.S. Open at Pebble Beach tends to mean something big for the sport, which is why she played three practice rounds before the week had even begun.


“I heard a lot about the histories of this course,” Ko said. “I watched Tiger win the U.S. Open, and Gary Woodland when he won the U.S. Open. I watched everything. I am really excited to play this course. I really wanted to play this course.”


It’s possible Ko could have watched Woods’ victory 20 years ago, although she would have been all of 4 years old when he won by 15 strokes in 2000. But that performance, at this venue, has become such an important part of golf’s gospel, an entire generation of players feels like they saw it live, even those who most likely took it in on replay. That’s one reason why the USGA was determined to bring the Women’s U.S. Open to Pebble for the first time. If this course is going to continue to be a tentpole for American golf, then the best women in the world deserve to have their own piece of Pebble lore. Most of the best players had never even played the course prior to this week.


“I don't think you can compare this golf course to any tournament,” said Nelly Korda. “It's Pebble. Now I understand it, playing it for the first time. It’s iconic. It's amazing to see we're making these massive strides forward, not only with the increase in purses but the venues we get to play, the rich history that we just get to be a part of. I think that's our little piece of history, as well.”


The allure of Pebble was so strong, it even lured back two of the game’s icons – Annika Sorenstam and Michelle Wie West — into one final appearance. Sorenstam and Wie West were each granted a special exemption into the field, even though neither plays regularly these days as a professional.


Sorenstam won three U.S. Opens and 72 titles on the LPGA Tour, but she has only played Pebble previously as part of the Pebble Beach Pro Am. She was elated, even at age 52, when the USGA offered her a chance to tee it up here in a major.


“This is really a big test, as you know, for women's golf, but most of it is about the historic opportunity to come here and to showcase women's golf is just really, really special,” Sorenstam said. “It's such an iconic place.


Wie, the 2014 U.S. Open champion, had never even played Pebble before this year, but it seemed like a fitting place to make her official exit from the game. Wie West announced this is going to be her final tournament before she officially retires. She thought last year’s U.S. Open at Pine Needles might be it for her, but then she saw Pebble on the schedule, and it was too important to pass up.

“This has consumed so much of my mental space, preparing for this week and kind of looking forward to this week,” Wie West said.


Holding majors at courses with rich golf history, Wie West said, represents a huge moment of growth for the women’s game.


“It's been so amazing to see our major championships be held on amazing golf courses, Baltusrol, we have here at Pebble Beach,” she said. “I've talked a lot about that. Venues make a huge difference in uplifting our Tour, our game, and we need to continually be at this venue.”


Whether this U.S. Open will produce an iconic moment like Jack Nicklaus’ 1-iron into 17 in 1972, or Tom Watson’s chip in on 17 in 1982, is hard to predict, but the fact that the women finally have the opportunity to add to that history is on everyone’s mind this week.


“I think a lot of us have grown up watching the guys here and U.S. Opens, the AT&T Pro-Am and all that, so it's really special to be here for a U.S. Open,” said Leona Maguire. “It's one of our biggest events of the year, so I think we're all just enjoying the week. Pebble is one of those bucket list places for a lot of people, so for us to be able to play seven days in a row out here, it's something that I think none of us are going to forget for a long time.”

A week for new memories at Pebble Beach

Welcome back to the NLU Mailbag. In this space, we’ll address topics big and small, smart and dumb, irreverent and serious.

A quick reminder: You need to be a member of The Nest to submit a question to the mailbag, but the mailbag itself will be free to read (as long as you behave yourselves). Most of our questions are submitted via our message board, The Refuge, but if you’re not a message board person, please send me an email at kvv@nolayingup.com with your Nest handle and your question. If your question gets picked, we’ll send you a free Nest towel.

Aspoiledwalk: Assuming this “merger” happens, does Saudi involvement move the needle for sponsor’s eagerness? Basically, are some sponsors going to pull out so that they are not associated with the PIF? Seems like a potential issue.

Ever since the two sides agreed to cease suing each other and see if they can make money together, there has been a lot of talk about how this would legitimize the Saudis in the eyes of American businesses and potentially open up a windfall for investment. I think that’s probably an accurate read. While I think the nuances are important, and that there are differences between doing direct PR for the Saudi regime (“You wouldn’t believe how many women there are in restaurants in Riyadh these days!”) and publicly-traded companies like Uber and FedEx allowing outside investors to buy shares, but a lot of people really don’t care. That is certainly their right. I think the majority of the public will mostly see it that way too. To hear Phil Mickelson tell it, big things are on the horizon.

One thing that makes it hard to gauge, however, is how blatantly LIV executives are willing to distort the facts about potential interest in the product. When the framework agreement was announced, Monica Fee, LIV Golf’s Global Head of Partnerships, told The Fire Pit Collective that her phone had been “ringing off the hook” with interest, and cited ESPN as one of the companies that inquired about a potential partnership. I know that’s inaccurate, based on a conversation I had with a source I trust implicitly. LIV Golf approached ESPN, not the other way around, and it went nowhere. But a little razzle dazzle is how these things often get spun.

You alluded to the flip side – sponsors who are already working with the Tour feeling uncomfortable – and I agree that hasn’t been discussed much. I do know, for a fact, there are at least two sponsors that are uncomfortable with the Saudis and their boards may be faced with some difficult decisions going forward.

But remember, money tends to paper over a bevy of reservations. As the court documents that Twitter user 

 revealed this week show, the DP World Tour is not in great financial shape, and I’m fairly sure they would love an influx of cash.

Chief: On a scale of 1 to 100, how effective has LIV been as a sports washing venture? I feel like the efforts to stand up LIV have put MORE spotlight on and had more people talking about the Saudis’ repugnant human rights record, rather than done anything to sweep it under the rug. It seems to be that the Saudis have fallen into the trap of forgetting that bad press is worse than no press.

If we’re talking about the general public, I agree it’s only made the spotlight brighter. You would be amazed at how many people who don’t follow golf or world affairs suddenly have strong opinions about both when they run into me at barbecues. It’s the kind of issue that has a reach beyond sports, so it’s fair to say there has been some backlash that’s been a net negative for the Kingdom. But the point that I often try to make with regard to this issue is, for the most part, the public isn’t the intended audience for sports washing. It’s corporate power. People assume the Saudis have a bottomless pit of money to throw around, and in the short term, that is true. But the plan to penetrate the world of sports has always been part of a long-term play aimed at moving away from a dependency on oil, and there has been a lot of speculation (from pretty smart people) that the Saudis have 

realized they are spending money at a rate that’s not sustainable

. When you want to spend $1 trillion dollars to build a city in the middle of the desert, you need other countries (or more accurately put, foreign companies) to show some interest in helping you achieve that goal. People sometimes think when you bring this up, you’re suggesting there is a nefarious plot unfolding, but none of it is being done in secret. It’s right out in the open. 

They even spell it out – in English no less – on their website

. If you can use golf (or soccer, or Formula 1, or WWE) to convince a hedge fund manager or CEO to finance a project in Neom, who cares what a journalist or human rights activist thinks? That’s where sportswashing truly works, with the levers of power.


There are also some nuances to this issue that are impossible to parse on Twitter. If the Kingdom is really interested in becoming more progressive as a country, and moving away from subjugating women, there is no doubt the West should be supportive of that. That’s why the United States embraced MBS when he came to power. His critics believe much of what he’s doing is geared toward appearances, that behind the scenes Saudi Arabia remains an authoritarian nightmare where 

dissidents are routinely kidnapped and tortured

is far better than the religious leaders who wielded power and influence before him.

The answers aren’t easy, but the debate is important, so we ought to keep having the debate.

Taylorf: Each of your fingers on one hand is a drink dispenser, which five beverages/drinks are you choosing?

One of the reasons I love this mailbag is we can quickly pivot from global politics to a truly stupid discussion like this, a game I will now refer to as Drink Fingers. This may be the most important question I’ve ever answered, in fact. I’m already nervous about the potential backlash. (I ran it past my wife and one of my daughters and they both agreed, in this hypothetical scenario, you still have access to water and other beverages. You’re simply choosing what beverages you’d like to have access to at all times.) With those stipulations, here we go:

. I think there is nothing better than natural lemonade over ice, the kind you buy at a state fair where they squeeze the lemons in front of you and add what I assume is way too much sugar. One of my favorite BBQ joints in Baltimore, Andy Nelson’s 

(which is featured in the Baltimore episode of Strapped)

 makes a ridiculously good lemonade that I might be kind of addicted to. It might not get as much use in the winter, but during the summer I’d have to guard against going into a sugar coma. 

 I am one of those weirdos who drinks iced coffee all year round, even on the coldest days of Montana winter. Every time I visit my parents at Christmas, I have to sheepishly explain to the coffee proprietor near their house that, yes, I really do want iced coffee even if it is hovering around zero degrees. I am not a coffee snob on par with some — please check out 

 if you take coffee as seriously as I take sportwashing — but there is an art to making a good iced coffee, and it doesn’t involve just dumping hot coffee over ice. That is criminal, and whatever kind of cold coffee came out of my fingers, I would need it to be made properly. A lot of cold brews are really bitter, and I have no interest in the nitro versions that people expect you to drink without ice. (They don’t stay cold long enough unless you chug them! It’s an outrage!) 

I’m going to be very honest about something for a second. I used to absolutely hate carbonated water. I thought Lacroix tasted like napkins. But then my friend Mina Kimes talked about Spindrift so much, Spindrift asked her (and Lenny) to 

, I figured what the hell. I’ll try it. There are worse people you can be influenced by than Mina. I have been hooked on the lime flavor ever since. I know we have a No Free Ads policy here at NLU, but I am currently on a self-imposed break from alcohol and Spindrift has been a wonderful replacement.

 It would be a super cliche to say I wanted Pappy Van Winkle to pour out of my fingers. Pappy is great! And you should definitely read 

the paperback version of Pappyland that just came out,

 by my friend Wright Thompson, because it’s also great, and it’s about families and tradition and what we pass on as much as it is about liquor. But I feel like the scarcity of Pappy makes a lot of people act like assholes. Bourbon shouldn’t be a collector’s item, something people are hoarding so that rich people can pay thousands of dollars for it, only to stare at the bottle sitting in their liquor cabinet like a status symbol. Five years ago, you could find Blanton’s just about everywhere (a great bourbon!) and it was around $55. Now it’s $175 if you’re lucky to find it, and the single barrel goes for around $400. Nothing has changed except the status. That’s obnoxious. Bourbon should be something you drink with friends, whether it’s in a bar, at your house, at a wedding or around a fire. If I actually had a magic Pappy finger, there is a good chance someone would learn about it and try to cut it off to keep it for themselves. No, thank you. I will take a nameless bourbon that’s enjoyable but doesn’t say anything about me other than: Would you like to share one with me? 

 I labored over this final choice for a while, but I feel comfortable with where I landed, assuming a smoothie can be classified as a beverage and not a meal. Would it be weird if my pinky finger was like a cow’s udder that you could squeeze and green smoothie would come out? Absolutely. But I’m not sure it would be any weirder than the other options. I know some people think a green smoothie is only done for health reasons, but I love a good green smoothie that’s blended well. A little mango, pineapple, almond milk, maybe some avocado, spinach and kale? That sounds delightful. And if I need to take the edge off after a long day of fighting with people on Twitter, just drip a couple of shots of bourbon in there from my ring finger.

Iacas: KVV, what do you think makes for a good caddie or a bad caddie for a PGA Tour player, and to what extent can a caddie who is at least competent at the basic caddie tasks enough that their golfer never worries about them positively or negatively affect a golfer’s performance once they’re past the “getting to know each other” phase?

One of the first majors I covered for ESPN was the Open Championship at St. Andrews in 2015, and after the second round, I wrote a story about Adam Scott and Steve Williams, and touched a bit on the nature of their relationship. One anecdote I remember most from that piece was that Williams was up at 5:30 a.m. prior to Scott’s second round, walking The Old Course to chart pin positions, despite the fact that it was raining buckets. He and Jim “Bones” McKay were the only two caddies out there. I thought about that this year at the U.S. Open when, on Wednesday afternoon, I bumped into Michael Greller walking Los Angeles Country Club with his yardage book in hand. Jordan Spieth was resting somewhere, but Greller was eager to put in extra work. I don’t think it's a coincidence that those three men have been on the bag for 23 majors. (Williams 14, Bones 6, Greller 3).

The first requirement of a good caddie is you have to put in the work, and sometimes — most of the time — the hours suck. If you put in the work, it gives you the credibility you need when it’s time to speak up. Bad caddies cut corners, and eventually it bleeds into their player’s game.


I would say temperament is a big part of it outside of the work you put in. One of the reasons Brooks Koepka and Ricky Elliott have been so successful together is they each have a calm about them, even under pressure, that allows them to communicate without overcomplicating things. I’ve been nearby for a lot of their conversations (Koepka is the only golfer whom I can say I’ve been present for every one of his major wins) and I’m always impressed with how serene they are. Elliott makes suggestions, Koepka makes decisions. They don’t really debate much. Other players need a different energy, but Elliott understands Koepka’s personality.

Another example: I was walking right next to Matt Kuchar and John Wood at the Open Championship in 2017, when Spieth was in the midst of both a meltdown and a comeback, and I remember Wood doing a brilliant job of asking Kuchar questions about anything other than the tournament between shots: Vacations, music, his kids. The fact that Kuchar took the lead on the 13th hole, played the next four holes in 2-under, and still lost by three is among the craziest things that’s happened in this era.

The correct answer is probably: Every caddie and player relationship is different. I once asked Lydia Ko why she went through eight caddies her rookie year. Her answer was pretty simple: She was trying to figure out what kind of relationship worked best for her, and she could only do it through trial and error.

GottliebK12: In honor of American Independence Day, how about some civics? If you were to recast Hamilton with professional golfers, who would play which roles?

As someone with three daughters who all went through a big Hamilton phase, I have heard the soundtrack roughly 10 million times, so I think I am a good person to answer this question.


This is the hardest role to cast, but I think this is our best bet. Not afraid to share his opinions and emotions, sometimes impulsive, born on an island nation and came from humble beginnings. Married an American but still seen as an outsider to some blue bloods. Not afraid to stand for something, even if you hate him for it.

. Not really sure which side he wants to be on, is very calculating in assessing all the information, trying to determine which way the wind is blowing. Slow and deliberate. Believes he should be in the room where it happens.

Both camps believe he’s on their side. Not interested in wearing a uniform. Friendly with Hamilton.


Confident (some might say too confident) in his intellectual faculties. Not a big fan of federalism or taxes. A pretty sharp dancer who feuded frequently with Hamilton. Regardless of how you feel about him, tell me you wouldn’t absolutely delight in him strutting around to “What did I miss?” after he emerged from a self-imposed absence.

 Extremely smart pragmatist who can be credited with holding things together while everyone else was screaming and backstabbing each other. Friends with Jefferson, but sees Hamilton’s points too.

 The Father of it all. A mythic figure that no one will cross, not even Jefferson. The 2019 Masters is probably his version of “One Last Time.”

One of the funnier characters who stands up for what he believes in, but history may not remember him the way it does some of his peers.


Threatened people who were thinking about leaving, then declared they’d be back eventually. Understood the dispute was ultimately about money, even though he framed it as loyalty. Probably could have won the war if he had more resources, but ultimately decided a truce and alliance was in everyone’s best interests.

At first, seems kind of plain and inoffensive but as time goes on, turns out to be maybe the most talented member of the ensemble.

dizzying intellect that leads to him talking. A lot.

 Passionate, doesn’t like being overlooked, feisty and willing to chirp if the situation calls for it.

 A young man full of promise, you just pray nothing bad happens to him in a duel.

Used to be friendly with Washington before he started talking shit. Not particularly well-liked by his peers as his career unfolds.

Sarah: What could you see as the possible culmination for the LACC backlash? It strikes me that a massively exclusive golf course, situated on extraordinary expensive land, in an area dealing with widespread housing crisis, experiencing public critique of the steps it took to prevent the normals from the rare chance of stepping foot on the property, could be a powder keg of sorts in the golf course/land use discussion.

I think all the issues you point out were coming to a boil by the end of the U.S. Open, but they already feel like they’re simmering down in the public consciousness. I think LACC was a great course and helped determine a worthy champion, but the corporate feel of the crowd was a real bummer. Sunday was the only day it even had the energy of a major championship. I don’t think every U.S. Open needs to be held at a public course, but I don’t think our national championship should have the feel of a corporate member guest. I think the USGA should have pushed harder in its negotiations with LACC to let more fans on site, and not fans sitting in corporate suites. As for the housing crisis stuff, I am going to be realistic here: There is no chance LACC is ever going to turn into affordable housing or become a jogging park the way Malcolm Gladwell wants. That land, even if it wasn’t a golf course, would be worth billions and billions. I think California will have private golf courses as long as they have water (no sure thing), but it is possible we’ll see a backlash somewhere in the future if major championships (particularly the U.S. Open) start to feel like a cocktail party for the elite.

BDeck25: Ideal Fourth of July foursome, but for a backyard BBQ. Who’s got the fireworks, who’s on the grill, who’s making the entire family uncomfortable after too many High Noons?

I’m going to tweak this question a bit and construct an ideal backyard BBQ using the NLU staff. For starters, I am going to have Cody manning the grill. I feel like that’s one of the most important jobs and there is no one I trust more to handle a combination of meat and fire. Casey and D.J. are going to handle the music, which is going to be an eclectic mix of bangers but also mood as the evening unfolds. I’ve got Soly handling fireworks because he has the right balance of glee and gravitas for the job. He’s going to make sure everyone has fun, but also doesn’t blow a hand off. He’s not going to be an idiot who lets kids run around shooting roman candles at each other, but he’s going to coordinate a showstopper of a finale. Neil is going to be manning the bar because he has the perfect bartender’s temperament. Admit it, you can just picture him right now with a towel over his shoulder, making small talk with the weird neighbors who wandered into the yard, then pivoting quickly to making five margaritas and an Old Fashioned. Ben is going to be in charge of yard games, meaning he’s coordinating a cornhole bracket and badminton bracket at the same time. (He and Soly are also undefeated in bocce; seriously just try and take their belt.) Randy and Tron are the Social Chairs, wandering the party making sure everyone feels welcome, and letting them know where to get a drink, what’s being offered on the menu (which, by the way, Tron spent weeks curating) and how to sign up for the cornhole tournament. They’ll give a toast and thank everyone for coming later in the evening. I would probably roam the party and try to spell everyone in their job, making sure Cody gets a break from grilling steaks or that Neil doesn’t starve behind the bar. If necessary, I could do dumb impressions to entertain everyone’s kids.

Tuck_mulligan: You touched on some of the reasoning behind going from a respected contributor at an enormous institution to an editorial leader at a relative upstart when you officially joined NLU. Now that you have a few months of writing published for the latter, what has surprised, delighted, or inhibited you in the writing/editing or creative process?

Is there newfound clarity in editorial control or do you feel like confidence to guide the NLU “voice” is still a muscle that you just have to exercise before you’re ready to fully trust it?

One of the things I like best about writing for NLU is what a collaborative space we have. Ideas can come from anyone, and we’re all invested in each other’s success.

At the U.S. Open a few weeks ago, Soly, Tron and I were watching Rickie Fowler and Jordan Spieth goof around with their kids on the 9th green during a Tuesday practice round when Soly said to me: “It would be really cool if you wrote a scene-driven piece like you did at Riviera, and you included this scene in it.” It wasn’t an assignment, it was a suggestion, and it was a great one. It helped me begin to think about 

 might look like, and I think it resonated with a lot of people.

There are advantages to working for a major institution like ESPN; more people are going to read your work. But I also don’t have to try and appeal to a broad audience of readers. I’m writing for people who like golf, who feel emotionally invested in the characters, and who want something beyond what they saw on television. That’s a fun place to start when you sit down in front of a laptop. At the PGA, Tron said to me “I would love to read a piece about what it’s like to play golf in miserable weather like this.” I quickly got to work on it, 

and it turned into something fun and different.

 Those kind of ideas interest me way more than writing about the first-round leader.

I don’t feel inhibited by anything other than time. I’d love to work on a big narrative feature, the kind I used to write for ESPN about players or executives in the NFL. We just haven’t found the right subject and the time to do it yet, but we’ll get there.

Is there an NLU Voice? That’s an interesting and smart question. Because the written word carries a lot of weight, I do feel a certain responsibility when I pen a column. I’m trying to convey my own opinion, but also represent our company and its ethos. One thing I love is that D.J. has an incredible ability to help me flush out how I’m feeling about a topic, and he doesn’t care if I need some time to work through it. 

The “Disease of More” piece I wrote after the framework agreement was announced is a good example.

 I needed 36 hours to piece together what I wanted to say. I talked to him multiple times during the writing process. When I finished, I felt really good about where I’d landed and so did he. It got more positive reactions than just about anything I’ve written in my career. I don’t know if I would have been afforded that patience at another place. One of the reasons ESPN took me off golf coverage is, they wanted someone who could turn columns around quickly, to maximize the window of reader interest. Speed is not my strength as a writer.

There are people in the golf media space who have to live and die by the clicks game and I can’t tell you how grateful I am that I’m not one of them. We don’t even have any digital advertising on my stories, so whether my pieces get 100,000 clicks or 1,000 clicks makes zero difference to us. That’s why I occasionally wrote columns as Twitter threads earlier this year before that site became a wheezing dumpster fire. Hopefully, if you like my writing, you’ll want to listen to our podcast or watch our videos. Not every element of a business needs to be driven by trying to monetize the consumer. If there is one part of our creative process I’m most proud of, it’s that.

KVV Mailbag: Sportswashing, 'Drink Fingers' and Hamilton

The golf world got its first look Monday at the framework agreement that the PGA Tour and DP World Tour struck with the Public Investment Fund of Saudi Arabia (PIF) to reshape the world of men’s professional golf. The documents were obtained by No Laying Up shortly after being provided to Congress as part of the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations inquiry into the pending deal.

The framework agreement can be read in its entirety 

Here are a few things to know about the agreement.

There weren’t really any bombshells hiding in the written agreement.

Interviews done by Jimmy Dunne and others, like 

, seemed to cover almost all of what was put on paper in the framework agreement. If you’d like an in-depth read about what happened (along with some of our analysis), here’s a piece 

Now, it's worth mentioning up front how scant the document is on specifics. This was mentioned over and over in interviews the past few weeks, however now we can see it spelled out. The leadership doesn't appear to be withholding any details, there just don't seem to 

There are still a thousand unanswered questions about nearly every section of the framework, which was signed by Commissioners Jay Monahan and Keith Pelley, as well as PIF Governor Yasir Al-Rumayyan. But as far as what has been put on paper, the agreement doesn’t seem to contain a big smoking gun that wasn’t already mentioned in the media.

Everything that follows is operating under the assumption that this deal goes through. If not, the framework is torn up and "the parties can revert to operating their respective businesses in the state that existed pre-agreement in their discretion."

No Laying Up

Writing

Corpuz Conquers Pebble

Surprise! Allisen Corpuz has been here all along

Michelle Wie West's Longest Wave

Thank You, Amy Olson

The more Rose Zhang changes, the more she stays the same

A week for new memories at Pebble Beach

KVV Mailbag: Sportswashing, 'Drink Fingers' and Hamilton

First look at the PIF, PGA Tour framework agreement

Ten Memories from LACC

Triumph and Heartache Looms

What do we want the U.S. Open to be?

The Agitation of Scottie Scheffler

Trying to understand how golf changed forever

The Disease of More

KVV Mailbag: Early U.S. Open Talk, Caddies and TV Finales

Godspeed, Rose Zhang

Brooks Koepka: Resuming the Pursuit of History

More like Soak Hill! (Sorry)