Out-of-sorts American star was far from his best and came unstuck against Europe’s least heralded player
The ball splashes out of the bunker and flies towards the green. Jordan Spieth raises a hand, commanding it to stop. The ball stops. Spieth gives a small nod of contentment, accepts his putter from the caddy Michael Greller and begins to compose himself ahead of the four-foot putt that will halve the 9th hole.
It is at times like these that you realise that Spieth is not like other golfers. Most players bark at their ball in flight, exhorting it to “sit down” or “get up” as if it were an errant dog. Spieth, by contrast, whispers to it under his breath, cajoles and encourages it, as if to say: “Come on, buddy, you can do this.” And in his most sublime moments, it can feel as if Spieth and the ball are almost like dance partners, master and pupil, one leading and the other loyally following.
