Rickie Fowler Never Stopped Being Nice, and Now He's a Champion Again
DETROIT — When it was all over—the tournament, the drought, the questions and the narratives—Rickie Fowler hugged co-runner-up Collin Morikawa. He hugged his wife, Allison. He asked his 19-month-old daughter Maya if she wanted a ball, then gave it to her. In the last few years, Fowler found personal happiness and professional torment, and when he came through it at the end, the one thing everybody in golf says about Fowler remained true: Rickie Fowler is nice.
Nice is not about grand gestures or even moral values; nice is a series of small courtesies and kind thoughts. Many times, Fowler has waited at the course until a major ended so he could congratulate a buddy for winning—a gesture that invited snark in a sporting environment where snark needs no invitation. When Europe throttled the U.S. at the 2018 Ryder Cup outside Paris, U.S. captain Jim Furyk opened the Americans’ team press conference by saying Europe’s Thomas Bjorn was “a better captain,” which led to a question for Furyk about why Bjorn was a better captain, and though there were nine major champions on the U.S. team, it was Fowler who interjected: “Well, he wasn't a better captain.”
Nice means when you struggle, as Fowler did, you feel bad for the people who support you, and also that you hear the people who aren’t nice, or as Fowler called them Sunday: “The other side.” Nice means you call the negative feedback “unfortunate” and your response is too nice to be called a clapback: “I know a lot of people are excited and happy. You also quiet down some other people.”
Fowler just won the Rocket Mortgage Classic at Detroit Golf Club, and for years, he never dreamed so small. He was once ranked fourth in the world. In one calendar year, Fowler finished in the top five of all four majors. But his last win came more than four years ago. He was not a father. He hadn’t even married Allison yet. He had fallen to 185th in the world, which is who-were-you-again territory. He was not even invited to three straight Masters.
“It was tough just because everything else in my life was amazing,” Fowler said. “And to have the one thing I obviously love doing … it’s not everything to me, but it’s a big part of my life. It was the missing link.”
Fowler’s game deserted him, but his demeanor did not. At the 2021 PGA at Kiawah, I asked him about struggling for a few months, and he smiled and corrected me: “It’s been more than a few months.” Think of how many athletes bristle at the implication they are struggling at all—especially in golf, where acknowledging doubt is often seen as the first step to embracing it.
He struggled so badly that last year, there were persistent murmurs he would leave for LIV—to cash in on his name before he was completely irrelevant. For Fowler, it was a choice between who he could be and who his critics thought he was. Was he just a marketing creation, slick without substance, who mistook riches for success? Or was he a truly great golfer and competitor, wired to win majors, like his buddies Jordan Spieth and Justin Thomas?
He stayed on the PGA Tour and kept working. He switched coaches and switched back again, and he also switched caddies, all of it in a search for what he just found.
Fowler has resisted the implication he is too nice to deliver knockout blows on Sundays. That analysis was always too simple, and sad, too: In a world of social-media toxicity and relentless sparring, do we really want to rip somebody for being nice? Still, it was fair to wonder if, in the tensest moments, Fowler’s personality was ill-suited for a game that is mostly about making yourself feel good. Brooks Koepka has probably never spent 10 seconds feeling bad for somebody he just beat. If Jack Nicklaus ever did, the empathy never got in his way.
Two weeks ago, Fowler led or co-led after each of the first three rounds at the U.S. Open, then shot a 75 Sunday. The joke then was that Rickie really was back, but Fowler recognized the week for what it was: Progress, and a reminder. Winning is not about eliminating mistakes, but limiting them.
“Any situation prior helps, but the more recent the better,” said Fowler, who was also in the hunt at the Travelers Championship last week. “I’ve been in contention plenty of times. Definitely over the last couple weeks, with L.A. …the last two weekends definitely helped going into today, just knowing I didn’t have to be perfect.”
So here was Fowler Sunday, winning the only way any golfer really can: his own. Fowler did not really outplay Adam Hadwin and Collin Morikawa as much as he outlasted them. He struggled on the 17th hole but stuffed a wedge inside four feet on 18 to force a playoff. He hit an awful tee shot with a one-handed finish on the first playoff hole (18 again), then joked to his caddie, Ricky Romano, that at least he had the proper angle in. Morikawa was sure he hit the perfect approach, but it landed two yards too far and left him with a brutal chip. Fowler hit a 7-iron onto the green, got a good read from Hadwin’s missed putt, and then holed his.
He kept his composure afterward: “It’s nice to have this one out of the way. I’ll get emotional at some point.” That might be because this week only confirmed what was already obvious. Fowler is back. He said he has felt better about his game recently than at any other time in his career.
Fowler plans to fly to London this week with Thomas and Spieth and their wives, and now it’s Fowler who is playing the best of them. He should be one of the favorites at the British Open at Royal Liverpool this month. If he wins, it will be a hell of a story. If one of them does, look for Fowler outside the scoring tent, clapping.