Why I Left the U.S. Open Early to Watch the Final Round With My Sons

I missed the climactic final round of the 2026 U.S. Open, which Wyndham Clark won, to be with my kids. | Erick W. Rasco/ Sports Illustrated

I always knew I was leaving the U.S. Open a day early. Some might think it’s crazy to cover a tournament for five days and then give up inside-the-ropes access for the final round. It’s like watching the first three quarters of the Super Bowl in the press box, and then leaving before Patrick Mahomes stages an epic comeback. 

For me, it was a no brainer. Being with my wife and two sons was more important. It was the best decision I ever made. 

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I watched the final round of the 2026 U.S. Open in the living room with my family. Theo spent most of the time with me. George’s interest waned. 

Those three hours were more meaningful than the roughly 90 hours I spent at Shinnecock Hills Golf Club, and I assure you, those were meaningful times. I love covering golf. I love my kids more. 

When Wyndham Clark dropped the winning putt, Theo was running across the TV in his underwear. When I told him Wyndham Clark had won, he yelled, “yeaaaaaaaah” as he ran out of the room. Earlier, he told me Scottie Scheffler was his favorite golfer. I’ll teach him about being a loyal fan in the future. 

I walked over 50,000 steps from Tuesday to Saturday at Shinnecock. I saw every shot Rory McIlroy hit on Thursday. I walked all 20 holes with Clark on Friday. I watched 15 holes of Jackson Koivun and Miles Russell on Saturday, then went back out and followed Scottie Scheffler when he made his back-nine charge. The crowd chanting his name as he walked toward the green at the par-5 16th after reaching it in two is something I’ll never forget. 

That memory pales in comparison to Theo telling me, “I want to go to the U.S. Open with you” on Sunday as we sat there watching the final round. God willing, my boy! 

NESBITT: Wyndham Clark Found the Perfect Way to Shut Everyone Up at the U.S. Open

I didn’t grow up playing golf with my dad. He was a history teacher and owned a landscaping company. He worked 13-hour days. He remains my hero. 

Yet, when I see fathers and sons playing golf together, or hear stories about a father teaching his son the game, I can’t help but feel wistful for missing that experience. Changing the oil on a lawnmower was pretty cool, though, too. 

Nearly every night when the kids get back from school, we either play baseball or golf in the backyard. I practice chipping. They try to hit the ball as hard as they can. Both of us are mildly successful. 

Theo wanted to hit golf balls in the backyard on Sunday. It hurt me to deny him, but I wanted to watch the final round. We agreed on indoor hockey with those foam pucks instead. This was about the time Scheffler made birdie on 5 to get back to red figures. 

Theo saw my excitement and promptly declared Scottie his favorite before flip-flopping later in the day. He took a slap shot shortly thereafter and it looked like a golf swing. 

“Maybe some day,” I thought. 

Most of the day consisted of me watching golf intently and the kids playing around me. At one point, both George and Theo were trying to climb on my shoulders. I told them part of daddy’s job is to watch golf and they were distracting me. They directed their boundless energy at mom. 

It is distracting working from home with two kids climbing all over you. People who did this during the pandemic know what I’m talking about. It’s a constant battle of trying to give your kids and your job the appropriate amount of focus.

But there were moments of tranquility. Theo and George sat with me on the couch at one point, my arms around both of them, just watching quietly. It never lasts long, but that time was special for me. I remember that more than the shots that happened during that time. This was before the leaders teed off.

And so it was on Saturday evening as I left Shinnecock for Montclair, I had no regrets about the decision, only excitement for what awaited. As it turned out, there wasn’t a Patrick Mahomes in the field anyway.

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