America's Bagman

 Golf is a good walk spoiled.

-- Mark Twain (allegedly)

So, OK, then. Guess that means Max Homa is a man after Twain's own mischievous heart, right? 

Spoiled a good walk for 38 holes yesterday trying to qualify for next week's U.S. Open, Max did, and came up just short. It would have been only 36 holes, but he jacked around and got himself into a playoff for the last spot, so it took two more holes to officially eliminate himself. He won't be playing next week.

Me, I think they should let him in, anyway. This is because Max Homa did something yesterday none of these other slugs ever do.

He carried his own sticks.

For 38 holes, he was America's Bagman, trudging up and down the fairways and greens like a sherpa hauling gear up Everest. Played what every Bogey Joe at Moonscape Hills Golf Club would call "man golf", which is golf without caddies or golf carts or those little two-wheeled pull thingys.

Now, I don't know what the Bogey Joes call the latter at Moonscape, where they cut the greens with a cheese grater and the fairways turn into shredded wheat by the end of June. But as a Triple Bogey Joe who lugs his own antique sticks, I think "wuss golf" might work.

Or maybe I'm just bitter because my wedges never nestle, and my drives always wind up under a tree a state or two over. It's possible.

At any rate, Homa was our patron saint this week, and God love him for it. Because if the best part of professional golf might be watching the best golfers in the world drain Rand McNally putts every week, the worst part is listening to them whine because some photog's motor drive went off at the wrong time, or the greens weren't carpet-perfect, or the courtesy car was late.

They are a pampered lot, these folks.

That's been particularly evident this year, with more and more golfers shunning the media after sketchy rounds, and Collin Morikawa doubling down on that by saying he doesn't owe anybody anything. And then there was Lexi Thompson, who missed the cut at the U.S. Women's Open and drew criticism for slow play -- criticism she finally had to address in an Instagram post because she refused media requests all week.

Which is why her pace of play blew up into an issue in the first place.

Had she simply gone in front of the media and said "OK, guys, here's the deal," she'd have gotten out in front of the controversy and put it to bed. So she really had no one to blame but herself that it became a whole thing.

But back to Max Homa.

Watching him walk for 38 holes bent double beneath his bag immediately made him Everyman, even if he was only doing it because he'd just fired his caddie and didn't have time to scrounge up another. Doesn't matter. For one glorious moment, we were all Max Homa, and he was us.

Well. Except for the part about him being way better, that is.