 |  |
|
CARNOUSTIE, Scotland -- Chris DiMarco sauntered onto the driving range at Carnoustie Golf Links with his preteen son and another young boy in tow, but that's not the part of his small entourage that fast drew the attention of Vijay Singh, who rarely misses a chance to needle his peers.
Singh, bashing balls at the adjoining practice station, quickly noticed DiMarco's bagman and announced to everybody within earshot, "Hey, the dream team is back together again."
|
|
| DiMarco has made made 14 of 18 cuts this season. (Getty Images) |
To frame it in slightly more regional terms, they aren't Lennon and McCartney plunking away on a piano and bass guitar. But at this point, DiMarco needs to rediscover some magic, because like the British Open itself, now in its 136th incarnation, his golf is growing old.
"Something needs to change," he said.
Truthfully, a repeat of what took place 12 months ago, when he battled eventual champion Tiger Woods down the stretch to finish second, would be a wonderful reprise. Ever since, his performance has been as spotty and uneven as British dental work.
The popular American hasn't posted a top-10 finish since the British Open last year, which is a head-scratching drought for a player who, through some bad timing, has finished second at the Masters, PGA Championship and British Open, behind either Woods (twice) or Singh.
"Two pretty good guys who were basically No. 1 at the time," he said.
Being second banana sounds pretty good right about now, because it's been months since the Florida-based veteran has sniffed a Sunday where every shot mattered. Depending on how his results are interpreted, his finishes in 2007 can be described as either spectacular or dismal. He's been making plenty of cuts in PGA Tour play, which is something of a miracle based on his statistics, but something's clearly missing.
In fact, if the season ended today, he would be eligible for precisely zero major championships in 2008. DiMarco, once ranked as high as sixth in the world, has fallen to No. 58 and is limping along at No. 108 on the money list.
"All it takes is a couple of good tournaments and you're right back up there," he said hopefully.
He might need two for The Show, so to speak. Since he is not otherwise exempt for 2008, he needs to finish in the top 125 in earnings to retain his card. Perhaps DiMarco's game will defrost once again in the U.K., since finding any ice in this region is nigh on impossible (just ask anybody who orders a soft drink).
Last year, he entered the British Open on a skid of another sort as a result of an injury he sustained in the spring of 2006 while snow skiing. He fell on the slopes and a bottle of schnapps he had in his backpack injured his ribcage.
Mere days after his mother died unexpectedly in July, DiMarco was the only player to put pressure on Woods at the British Open on Sunday, eventually finishing two shots back. This week, DiMarco has the initials NFND stitched into the back of his cap: "Never Forget Norma DiMarco."
The whole week -- Woods, similarly, was playing for the first time after losing his father -- remains bittersweet to DiMarco, 38.
"Last year was sort of odd, because I had this peace about me the entire time," he said. "There was definitely some divine intervention. I don't know why, but I kind of feel the same peace of mind this week."
That would be a nice diversion from his, uh, diversions. DiMarco is building a palatial new home, is still coming to grips with the loss of his mom, has three young kids and has battled injuries for the first time in his career. Most recently, a nagging joint injury to his left shoulder has required two cortisone shots. Surgery is on his offseason schedule because the joint keeps popping and grinding during his swing.
"I have had a lot of distractions in the last year or so," he said.
His friends attest to that.
"Those are the things that people aren't really aware of outside of the ropes that play into it," said Masters champion Zach Johnson, who lives near DiMarco in the Orlando area and plays with him frequently back home. "Those things add up, and things like that really just take a toll. I know personally, minor stresses just add up. But Chris will find it."
Rehiring O'Bryan, his caddie for eight years, can't hurt. As he often does, DiMarco allowed a family member to caddie for him at the British Open, and in 2006, one of his in-laws, Ryan Rue, handled the task. When DiMarco finished second, he elected to keep Rue, who had no professional experience as a caddie, on the bag for the rest of the year.
For the past 12 months, Rue was known to everybody as "new guy," which actually became his nickname. A month back, DiMarco called the old guy, O'Bryan, who had been working for a couple of other tour veterans, and asked him back.
"That probably wasn't easy for him to do," O'Bryan said.
No kidding. DiMarco is stubborn, prideful and doesn't hoist the white flag without a fight. DiMarco even has trouble discussing his recent flat spell. Dr. Gio Valiante, his sports psychologist in Orlando, suggested walking on eggshells with regard to his client's psyche.
"Don't ask him what's wrong," Valiante advised. "He can get irritable about that question. There's nothing wrong, really. He's made something like 13 of 15 cuts."
Actually, he's made 14 of 18, which is a darned fine performance for a player whose statistics would best be described as pedestrian. If not "pedestrian gets run over by truck." DiMarco doesn't rank in the PGA Tour's top 120 players in driving accuracy, greens in regulation or driving distance. In the important all-around category, a cumulative figure that includes eight key indices, he's No. 144.
Most curious has been his performance on the greens, where he has secured the vast majority of his professional riches. A player who has regularly ranked among the tour top 10 in putting, he has fallen to No. 86 and three weeks ago changed his famed putting grip.
DiMarco, patriarch of the Claw grip that has been used by dozens of prominent players since, is now holding the club like a pencil, with two fingers of his right hand. He used all four fingers previously, which shows that he's gone to dramatic lengths to turn his game around.
"First change in 11 years," he said as he rolled a putt on Carnoustie's second green. "The club feels a little softer in my hand."
A hard landing will be in order on another front if he doesn't stage a last-ditch rally. A two-time member of both the Ryder and Presidents cup teams, DiMarco made the winning putt when the Americans beat the International team two years ago at the latter competition. At this point, with the next President's Cup team set to be finalized in a month, his likely best chance is to be selected as an at-large pick by U.S. captain Jack Nicklaus.
"I don't want to be picked," he said. "My goal right now is to give them a reason to pick me. I know I have to show them I still have a pulse."
A pulse? There's never been any question that the guy has heart. His work ethic has improved tenfold too. The club technicians in the Ping trailer said he has never worked harder on his game, and DiMarco has never been known as a range rat.
"I think, first and foremost as a golfer, we go through slumps," Johnson said. "I'm not saying he's in a major slump, but for Chris DiMarco he's in a minor depression."
DiMarco sounds as optimistic as he's been in months. He fired consecutive 70s on the weekend at Congressional Country Club, a future U.S. Open site, two weeks ago, and O'Bryan has pinpointed a few of DiMarco's creeping tendencies.
"I noticed a couple of his old bad habits right away," O'Bryan said. "Nothing against Ryan, but I might know Chris' game better than Chris does."
As DiMarco toured Carnoustie during a practice round, his 11-year-old son Cristian tagged along for the walk. After dad hammered a laser-beam iron shot onto a faraway green, he put his arm around his old man's waist as they ambled down the fairway.
"Good one, dad," Cristian said.
"How about that?" dad said with a wink as O'Bryan smirked.
The DiMarco band's been reunited. Let's see if the tune changes, too.