Even in the glory days, long before Phil Mickelson became golf’s foremost pariah, his peers on the PGA Tour had a nickname for a man whose confidence has never knowingly relied on external assistance.
Ostensibly, the tag was gobbledegook: FIGJAM. But the devil was in the words behind the letters: F*** I’m Good, Just Ask Me.
A point to make here is that the label was not always affixed with affection. And a second is just as relevant – Mickelson likely couldn’t care less. He has six majors on the shelf and the skin of a rhino on his back; one of the greatest golfers in history and one for whom self-awareness has always played second fiddle to self-regard.
But if anything might penetrate that outer layer, it will be the revelations of the past week, which carry the risk of severely damaging a legacy already torched by Mickelson’s other behaviours in recent years.
For now, there are denials from his side about the allegations that he made non-consensual physical contact with a female employee at his favoured golf club. His representatives insist ‘any misunderstanding has been cleared up’, but that does not change the fact he has been thrown out of the club, The Farms in San Diego, where the annual dues are around £20,000 and his wife, Amy, is a popular figure.
Phil Mickelson has been kicked out of The Farms in San Diego after allegations
A statement from the club, responding to the story broken by Golf Digest, offered a sharp assessment of how they viewed the episode. It read: ‘The Farms Golf Club is committed to maintaining a golf club environment that is safe, respectful and reflects the highest standards of conduct. All members are required to adhere to our code of conduct, and any allegations of misconduct are taken seriously.
‘Following a staff member report of member misconduct, the club provided immediate and ongoing support to the staff member, conducted a thorough independent investigation of the incident, and took decisive action. This individual is no longer a member of The Farms Golf Club.’
Where does this leave Mickelson? It’s a question we have asked multiple times since he became the key trigger to LIV Golf’s existence and made himself persona non grata in the process for many he left behind on the traditional tours.
When the US Open commences at Shinnecock Hills next week, he won’t be there – he has barely played this year because of a ‘private family health matter’. But how welcome would he have been if he was present?
Remember, that course on the eastern tip of Long Island, New York is where his slide in public affections first occurred in 2018. Because Mickelson was loved on arrival that year. He was a wizard with his wedges, sure, but his character was the sell. Straight out the gates as a Californian prodigy, he was cocky, witty, fun and rarely took the safe route on any course. Galleries adored him.
Mickelson was loved upon arrival at Shinnecock Hills in 2018 but caused outrage on his third round by playing a stroke before his ball had come to a stop
And then he had his moment on the 13th hole of the third round. If his shot from the pine straw on the corresponding hole of Augusta National in 2010 was Mickelson’s confidence at its best, then the stunt he pulled at Shinnecock was the delusion of a man who doesn’t always know best. Having overhit a bogey putt, he jogged after the ball, which was destined to run off an absurdly fast green, and played his sixth stroke before the fifth had stopped rolling.
A storm in a tee cup, in golf’s finest traditions, but his brazenness in refusing to withdraw in shame enraged his sport. More so when he later admitted it was a calculated ploy for a better score because the penalty wouldn’t weigh more than the consequence of where his ball was headed.
His playing partner that day was the Englishman Andrew Johnston, more widely known as Beef. As it happens, I interviewed him on Wednesday, before news broke about Mickelson’s latest entry to the public discourse. His instinct upon seeing the scene play out was to ask his caddie a question: ‘What the f*** just happened?’
Mickelson notoriously criticised Ryder Cup skipper Tom Watson (right) after the 2014 defeat
From there, he remembered laughing when Mickelson then told him he had no idea what the upshot of his little moment would be.
In the context of a golf tournament, it was a two-stroke penalty; in terms of Mickelson’s reputation it was closer to bathing in petrol and lighting a cigar.
Until then, the closest Mickelson came to external opprobrium had been accusations around insider trading and his decision, in 2014, to throw Tom Watson’s Ryder Cup captaincy under the bus. Those criticisms of Watson were deemed unedifying by some but fundamentally accurate by many; the Shinnecock episode offered no such upside. It was a key transition in his standing.
But Mickelson has always been a complicated man. As a confessed gambling addict, he was said to have wagered around $1billion and suffered $100m losses, according to a book published in 2023 by the American sports bettor Billy Walters.
Those losses are roughly equal to what Mickelson earned during a glittering career on the PGA Tour, but he has previously denied they had any bearing on his decision to join LIV in 2022.
Andrew Johnston witnessed Mickelson’s 2018 subterfuge and remembers laughing
Beyond doubt is the consequence it brought to the golfing world. By signing for a reported $200m, he gave them a star name but plummeted to earth himself, especially because of previous remarks he had made.
He had once said he would use Saudi Arabia as leverage in a row he was having with the PGA Tour and, more than that, said the Saudis were ‘scary mother*******’, but jumped into bed with them. An all-time great, yes, but a sell-out, too.
The LIV move proved one gamble too many for Mickelson’s standing in golf. Once upon a time, abuse in his direction came predominantly from Tiger Woods’s mother, who enjoyed taking aim at his weight – she adapted his Lefty tag to Hefty – but the LIV move allowed open season to be declared. Rory McIlroy has repeatedly been scathing in public.
The shame is that Mickelson is, legitimately, one of the greats – he possesses the most creative mind since Seve Ballesteros and his record-breaking PGA Championship win in 2021, aged 50 was a victory for the ages. He was a majestic golfer, truly.
And he knew it, of course. Sadly, aged 55, it’s getting ever easier to forget, especially if you don’t have the option to ask him.
