There are assumptions about Tyrrell Hatton that did not stand up to scrutiny in Pittsburgh a month ago. The scenario involved an airport and one of those queues that can boil the blood.
It was the Monday after the US Open at Oakmont, where the 33-year-old had just finished in a tie for fourth, and getting to London was proving tricky.
He had already missed one flight on the Sunday because he was in the final three groups on the course, and the next evening presented something of a shambles.
The computers were down, the flight was drawing closer and folk stood still for almost an hour. People were getting restless and after the restlessness came anger. But the chap at the very front, who was handing over his baggage when the entire system crashed?
Well, that was the most combustible man in golf and he was rather calm, which was noted with some bemusement by those of us behind him.
‘I can be very patient with some things and have zero patience with others, as you know,’ Hatton says, and we do.
When we talk about Hatton, it is usually about tantrums. Often that is fair and regularly it is an injustice — you do not make three Ryder Cup teams without an abundance of talent. Nor do you win nine titles across the PGA, European and LIV tours and finish top-10 in seven majors.
At Oakmont, the better foot was put forward. Sharing the lead with five holes to play was the kind of performance that left casual fans on the same page as those who follow golf closely. The sort that suggests Hatton ought to be worked in more frequently to our predictions about who might win a big one. Which brings us to the Open and a strange relationship.
‘My record is pretty weird,’ he says. ‘Did I miss the cut the first four times I played it?’ He did. And seven in all from 12 attempts. Of the other five, there are two top-six finishes and a couple more in the top 20.
‘I don’t really want to have any more missed cuts on my record. I’ve got certainly more than my fair share now. Good finishes and a bunch of missed cuts — I can’t make sense of it. It’s mad.
‘But, you know, it’s such a special tournament for all of us and I’m feeling good.’
That is where form comes into it. His season on LIV has not matched his debut campaign in 2024, when he was fourth in their standings, but he was top-five through 36 holes at the Masters before closing in 14th, and only two closing bogeys scraped gloss off a superb final round at the US Open. ‘It was my 41st major and in a way it got a monkey off my back,’ he says.
‘To play well at the right time in a major, giving yourself a chance to win, was something I wanted. I was happy with how I dealt with all of that because it’s not easy. We had friends that came up from Orlando to watch on the Sunday, which helped in a way.
‘We had intended to fly back the Sunday night but missed the flight, so ended up having a nice night and it wasn’t until the Tuesday where I had time to myself to think about the whole experience.
‘I felt like the disappointment had worn off pretty quick by then. It probably helped that JJ (Spaun, the winner) finished so well because it meant I didn’t feel I’d lost the tournament.
‘Hopefully, if I can get myself into that position again, it’ll be my time to win the tournament.’
Whether Portrush is the place remains to be seen. When he played these links two years ago, it did not go so well. ‘That was a lads’ trip and I probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind,’ he says. ‘I’d been drinking enough Guinness the night before. Most amateurs seem to improve when they’ve had a few beers. For me, the complete opposite.’
A more relevant omen might be served by the Open’s last visit to Portrush — Hatton was sixth, only to then miss two of his next four cuts in this championship.
Calling his outcomes is like predicting how a ball will bounce off a links fairway. But he is worth following for reasons far beyond the inevitable explosions.
