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Othe night before he won the US Open for the second time, Bryson DeChambeau told a gallery of reporters that he had started washing his balls in Epsom salt. No matter how carefully golf balls are manufactured, you see, there will always be mistakes and imperfections in mass-producing a 1.68-inch diameter, 328-dimpled urethane-coated sphere. Because the heavy side of a ball that is out of balance will float to the bottom in a solution of Epsom salt and water, DeChambeau has begun marking the top of each ball with a dot to ensure that it always rolls back on itself. “For most of the golf balls we get, it’s not really that big of a deal,” DeChambeau explained. “I just try to be as accurate as possible and that’s another step I take to make sure my golf ball flies as straight as possible because I’m not that good at hitting it that straight .”
Not so long ago, DeChambeau, a math prodigy who earned a degree in physics from Southern Methodist University, could have bypassed the ELI5 version for an explanation steeped in jargon and inaccessible to non-specialists. Instead, he served up a made-for-social, media-fueled anecdote that added a new chapter to an eccentric legend that belied the central appearance of the prototypical American Jock™️.
Less than 24 hours later, DeChambeau was a two-time US Open winner, joining Jack Nicklaus, Ernie Els, Tiger Woods and Brooks Koepka as the only post-World War II players to win the US National Championship twice at age 30 or younger. After letting a three-shot overnight lead slip away, DeChambeau battled back from two shots down on the back nine to edge out Rory McIlroy in a blockbuster box office clash for the ages. Although the lasting image may be McIlroy’s two missed putts from inside three feet – if not the viral footage of it detachment of the property no handshake or public comment before departure from Moore County Airport after only 52 minutes the game-winning shot fell – it was DeChambeau’s sensational sand save from 55 yards on the 72nd hole, which cashed in the Northern Irishman’s donations and closed the show.
DeChambeau, 30, was a polarizing figure in the golf world even before he came into full force by defecting to the Saudi-backed LIV Tour in 2022. He publicly ripped his equipment manufacturer, made brash proclamations about castrating Augusta and include in petty feud with Koepka, all of which cost him fan support. But a strange thing has happened over the past few years as DeChambeau has gone from outcast to one of the most popular players in the sport.
Welcome to Bryson 2.0, the beta-tested rehabilitated image of America’s champion golfer, a transformation that could be the story of the US Open, even if McIlroy he had not missed his best chance to break a decade-long major drought. This was no accident. The same way DeChambeau uses science to demonstrate improvement in his game — whether it’s bathing his balls in salt water, breaking out conveyor of the greens to stack puts, or using 3D printed irons at the Masters – DeChambeau won back fans with a thoroughly revamped persona to match his revamped game.
When he first won the 2020 US Open, drenching the Winged Foot field by six shots in a putt-and-putt style criticized as rough and unsophisticated, DeChambeau went directly to Donald Trump’s course in Westchester to celebrate with Don Jr. and Eric. He was often testy in his dealings with the media. It’s not like he didn’t seek attention, but he carried himself with an unpleasant energy of choice, distracted by the falsely earned superiority of Kyrie Irving or Aaron Rodgers, intent on proving he was the smartest guy in the room.
Four years later, DeChambeau is approaching things differently. A near-nuclear magical offensive was on full display at Pinehurst, with DeChambeau involved throughout. He interacted with the raucous crowds that followed his rounds from the 1st to the 18th hole and broke into spontaneous chants, even stopping to sign autographs during his rounds (against USGA rules) as he marched down the fairway or between the holes. He was lively, polite and sociable, a regular archbishop of Banterbury engaging in conversation with the galleries.
When he walked off the 18th green for his media duties after Saturday’s third round, he told the following crowds to meet him on the other side of the range, where he signed autographs until the last fan left. He has all but disavowed his associations with Trump after removing the Trump Organization logo from his back shortly after January 6, which is usually a cardinal sin in Maga circles, but he remains a favorite of the American right, who celebrated his victory and proud of the crowds around the 18th green who yelled “USA!” in McIlroy. To top it all off after Sunday night’s trophy ceremony, he walked through the mass of humanity to celebrate with the adoring crowds.
“Tonight,” he said, “I want all of you in some way, I want you to touch this trophy because I want you to experience what it feels like to me. You were a part of that journey this week and I want you to be a part of it for the after party.”
A working theory is that DeChambeau’s second career as a YouTuber softened his image. Showing off is muscle, and working to build a popular channel that surpassed 700,000 subscribers in the last week has forced him to pose for the camera with the same dedicated regularity behind his approach to fitness and nutrition. “I mean, my mission is to continue to grow the game, grow the game,” DeChambeau said. “YouTube really helped me achieve some of that. So, I think people have seen me on YouTube, which has been fantastic because then I can play from that. Just eat here. They just say things that make me interact and engage.
The more cynical reading is that DeChambeau’s transformation is artificial and self-indulgent, the invention of some nameless image consulting firm and stage-managed to within an inch of its life. But wherever you end up, his talent cannot be denied. On a sun-baked Pinehurst No. 2 course dotted with glass turtle greens that have brought the world’s best golfers to their knees, DeChambeau made the fewest putts of anyone in the field, curling in a devilish seven-footer that left more most swear words under his breath. He talked all week about embracing patient, conservative golf — he repeatedly described it as “boring” but necessary — while having the situational awareness to know when to deviate from the plan. His driver was all over the place in Sunday’s final round, but he battled through the nasty lies brilliantly, showing amazing powers of resilience and separation. He was a worthy champion.
Sports need stars, and golf is hardly an exception. An informal Guardian survey of various hotel workers, bartenders, Waffle House and Oliver Garden wait staff and supermarket cashiers revealed that most people in this corner of North Carolina who have not visited the US Open can name only two current professional golfers : Tiger and Rory . If they could name a third, it was usually Bryson, himself approaching mononym status, if not household name. Put simply, Sunday afternoon’s heavyweight clash on the back nine of the US Open – offering the kind of gripping theater and heightened drama that drives the sloppy under the marquee and creates fans for life – would not have been possible without him, beyond all doubt , that professional golf is richer with DeChambeau in the frame.
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