The Hysteria-Inducing Michael Block Saved This PGA Championship and Reminded Us Why We Watch
Most network television is shallow and shameless, its role in the dumbing down of society now wholly transparent in an age of prime-time game shows and 1970s reboots. Original programming has become passè. A herd mentality continues to dictate all four evening lineups, turning washed-up celebrities into reality stars amid the glut of dance contests and tropical love triangles.
It adds up to lowbrow entertainment at its least fulfilling—and yet another reason to cherish what we saw last weekend on CBS. A major championship in a sport divided by the unpopular emergence of a rival league, a storyline made unforgettable by a guy who has no affiliation with either conflicting tour. A 46-year-old club pro allowed to play only because the host organization insists on including 20 of its own in the field—their long history of competitive inferiority notwithstanding—his astonishing performance and the spontaneous joy it inspired.
The endearing nature and aw-shucks humility of this unlikely hero, the effect he had on Oak Hill’s massive galleries, the affection he evoked from the men he was paired with—two of golf’s most noble veterans. The hole-in-one Sunday at the 15th. The ridiculous par save three holes later to finish T15 and earn a spot in next year’s field. What the 105th PGA Championship lacked in down-the-stretch drama hardly prevents it from qualifying as the most memorable edition of this tournament since the Tiger Woods-Bob May overtime clash in 2000.
Alas, the feelgood factor does not lend itself to precise measurement. Michael Block’s embrace with immortality—pure glory, no trophy—is right there with John Daly’s triumph at Crooked Stick in 1991. Phil Mickelson’s victory two years ago at Kiawah Island remains on the short list, but it’s virtually impossible to ignore Lefty’s steep fall from grace and messy defection from the PGA Tour in assessing the long-term significance of his sixth major title.
Mickelson made history. Block induced hysteria. Not only from the throng at Oak Hill, but the millions watching the final round on CBS, which provided some exemplary touches in turning up the emotional dials on this nationwide Block party. Amanda Renner’s post-round interview with the club pro late Sunday was perhaps the best 3½ minutes you’ll ever see on a cutaway from live action—she took the extra step and made the biggest birdie of her fledgling career. Renner had texted Block’s son Billy, who sent her a video of the bedlam that ensued in O’Neill’s Bar & Grill at Arroyo Trabuco GC after the old man jarred his ace.
Billy called it “the most incredible moment of my life.” Dad broke down. And Renner handled those 3½ minutes perfectly—a huge step forward in her gradual emergence as a vital component to the network’s presentation. Once limited to dispensing nothing but sunshine in an impactless role not unlike that of the ever-magnanimous Ian Baker Finch, Renner has strengthened her presence by greatly improving her on-air agility. She reacts well. When your job is to ask questions, it’s a skill you must possess.
Trevor Immelman had another strong week as lead analyst, coming down hard on Rory McIlroy (playing with Block) early into his final round after the Northern Irishman shortsided his approach into the 2nd—he’d opened with a kick-in birdie. It was a stupid, inexplicable mistake for a player of McIlroy’s ilk, and Immelman made sure we knew it. His increased willingness to identify errors objectively, then augment those observations with sugar-free insight, is an asset CBS desperately needs. It’s golf, fellas. Not a game of perfect.
Although Brooks Koepka won the tournament and several other big names worked themselves into position but failed to make a charge, Oak Hill was all about the bearded club pro from southern California. Block reminded us that the best stories come out of nowhere. That every invisible member of the field starts the week at even par, same as all the superstars, and that opportunity really doesn’t care what color shirt your wear or how many times you’ve won before. The notion that Cinderella arrived in western New York with 14 clubs and a caddie, then rode the carriage all the way to Sunday evening, offered a perfect plot to CBS's penchant for turning every telecast into a fairy tale. This time, the slipper truly fit.
Anchor Jim Nantz has called a million big events in several sports over the span of his career; his trademark blend of polish and positivity sets the tone for every telecast over which he presides. When a club pro with personality posts the best finish by a man of his occupation in golf’s modern era, there’s no such thing as going over the top. Nantz’s knack for dramatic overstatement becomes a weapon with force.
He even mentioned Koepka’s alliance with LIV Golf a couple of times, something conspicuous in its absence last month at the Masters. Acknowledgement of the enemy is part of the job nowadays. To ignore it is to come up short in the responsibilities of a tournament host, and Jim Nantz has been way too good for way too long to come up short in any competitive context.
That said, it remains an awkward situation. If Block doesn’t finish at 1 over for the week, earn a couple of bear hugs from McIlroy and swipe all the headlines that needed to be stolen, Koepka’s fifth major crown—his first since bailing on the PGA Tour, the first by anyone who absconded from the mighty empire for LIV’s Saudi riches—becomes the only storyline that matters. It’s a very negative hook in terms of overall public perception. Validation of the upstart product doubles as a punch to Jay Monahan’s gut, and if you’d like to triple that shot of sour grapes, also lands a haymaker to Camp Ponte Vedra’s best long-term interests.
So Block didn’t just steal the show. He saved it. No wonder the Tour gift-wrapped him exemptions to this week’s gathering at Colonial and next month’s Canadian Open.
His highly improbable success at Oak Hill added another layer of credibility to what should be patently obvious by now. In a collective sense, sports enrich our lives as the only legitimate reality show available to mankind. Completely unscripted, no network hotshot around to commercialize his own happy ending or kick the ugliest dude off the island in the third-to-last episode. No panel of experts authorized to decide whether the dance troupe from Louisiana was better than the one from Texas.
No backing down from the essence of truth. No bald-faced breach of integrity. No bull----.
There’s immense gain and substantial pain to be found in winning and losing, but every once in a while, somebody comes along and proves you can finish 10 strokes out of first place and leave town a champion. “It’s not gonna get better than this,” Block told us, his eyes glazed in tears. “No chance in hell.” It’s another dose of reality worth wrapping our arms around.