Spring Loaded

Phil Mickelson choked.

Again.

You could certainly say there were extenuating circumstances contributing to his failure to finish on top Monday in the closing round of the U.S. Open golf tournament at Bethpage Black golf course in Farmingdale, New York.

People who wouldn’t know tea time from tee time have heard the tragic news that his wife, Amy, is facing surgery for breast cancer. That has to play with a man’s mind as he stands over a putt in a sport where there is sometimes too much time to think.

Except we’ve seen this disappearing act all too many times before.

Mickelson’s roller-coaster final round was hardly the first time he has followed the peaks-and-valleys course.

There was Phil getting a birdie on the 12th hole.

There was Phil eagling the 13th.

There was Phil charging back into contention like Mine That Bird coming down the stretch at the Kentucky Derby.

But then, there was Phil blowing a three-foot putt on the 15th hole.

There was Phil blowing a five-footer on the 17th.

There was Phil fading from contention.

There was Phil finishing second in the U.S. Open for a record fifth time, the same Phil who blew a two-stroke lead with three holes to play at the 2006 U.S. Open.

Phil is Steve Sax, who could handle hot ground balls at second, but couldn’t make the simple throw to first.

Phil is Wilt Chamberlain or Shaquille O’Neal, who could slam home shots with defenders climbing on their back, but couldn’t convert an unencumbered free-throw shot.

Put Phil in rough thick enough to cover him past his knees or place him 40 feet from the flag on a multi-level green better suited for miniature golf and watch him pull off a highlight-reel shot.

But put the same guy three to six feet from the cup, faced with a shot that is often considered a gimme in social games, what should be a tap-in for a pro golfer, and watch Phil sweat and think and adjust and, all too often, miss.

Yogi Berra used to say that baseball was 90 percent mental and the other half physical.

Using the same logic, golf is 99 percent mental with whatever Yogi feels is left over being the physical part.

Talk all you want about golfers looking over their shoulder when Tiger makes a charge, as was the case with Jack and Arnie in earlier eras, but the fact of the matter is, it ultimately comes down to the golfer and the course. There is no defender in his face, nobody trying to tackle him, nobody buzzing a fastball at his head.

Not even cheering is permitted.

Just the man and the course.

I once interviewed Mike Piazza after he had hit a mammoth home run.

Do you play golf, I asked.

Yes, he said.

How far can you hit a golf ball, I wondered.

I’ve hit it over 300 yards, he said, but I have trouble hitting it straight.

So explain something to me, I said. Somebody throws a ball at you, sometimes at close to 100 miles an hour, and, as a talented big-league batter, you can not only hit the ball, but usually direct it to left, center or right. A golf ball just lays in the grass and you can’t control its direction. How come?

Maybe, he said with a grin, I’d do better if somebody picked up that golf ball and threw it at me at 100 mph.

Maybe Phil ought to try that.

He obviously needs to do something to bring his mental game up to the level of his tremendous physical skills.

Instead, what happened Monday only figures to further erode Phil’s confidence next time he stands over a crucial putt.

Until he finds the answer within himself, he will continue to hear those two dreaded words: Phil choked.