The art of hanging in

There are a few things I want Gary Woodland to teach me this morning, as the new patron saint of hackers like me. I want him to teach me how to hang in.

I want him to teach me how to keep saving par from ridiculous places while the world waits for him to unravel the way he always has before.

I want him to teach me how to out-focus the Focus Monster himself, Brooks Koepka, who'd won the last two U.S. Opens and four of the last eight majors, and was filling Woodland's mirrors all afternoon Sunday at Pebble Beach.

I want him to teach me how to nearly hole out that fringe wedge on 17, the one that seemed to begin in Oregon and that almost no one gave him a shot at even getting it close. And I want him to teach me how to close out this U.S. Open with the flourish he did on 18, jarring a Rand McNally for birdie even though he didn't need it.

That was hardly the most picturesque 69 Woodland strapped on Pebble Sunday, but it might have been the bravest. The man came to the last round lugging a considerable weight of history -- he was 0-for-7 lifetime in tournaments he led after 54 holes -- and then spent the afternoon being stalked by the best golfer on the planet. And neither one could crack him.

At 35, his ship finally came in. His 13-under total was one stroke better than Tiger Woods' epic 12-under at Pebble in the 2000 Open, and he never saw a 70 in four rounds. And that indeed makes him the patron saint of hackers like me, even though Woodland is no hacker and never has been.

He's the patron saint of everyone who's tried and failed and tried and failed and tried and failed, and then finally hit something that at least somewhat resembled a golf shot. He's the patron saint of the bladed wedge, the missed 15-footer and the banana slice. He's the patron saint of endless excursions into sand, water and Sherwood Forest, until finally one magical day the ball goes where it's supposed to and that bleeping 15-footer finally finds a home.

And suddenly you're saying, "So that's what golf feels like."

And all it took was a little hanging in.

God bless Gary Woodland for reminding us all of that.