ERIN, Wis. -- Oh, it would have been a brilliant scene. The six-time U.S. Open runner-up, just minutes after stepping off his private jet, jogging toward the first tee for a late tee time. His shoes still untied, the gallery already in hysterics over his arrival, he'd offer that familiar thumbs-up and knowing grin, then pull driver from his bag and rip that famous butter-cut down the opening fairway.
It never happened. The thunderstorms never developed. The tournament delays never materialized. The jet never landed, carrying Phil Mickelson to his most dramatic U.S. Open entrance, if not also, eventually, his most triumphant.