1 week Ago By The Telegraph
Bryson DeChambeau tees off on the fourth hole during the second round at Augusta - Getty Images/David CannonAn incorrigible obsessive, Bryson DeChambeau has acquired enough eccentric tics to fill an entire journal of psychology. Take this year’s Masters, where his habit between rounds is to pound so many balls on the driving range that he loses count, desperately seeking an edge imperceptible to everybody but him.At one point, he could be seen practising a violent uppercut motion, trying to replicate the heavy topspin move in table tennis.
“I can go through 100 different swing thoughts in a week – there’s a lot going on,” he said, tapping at his head. “You wouldn’t want to be in there.”It is a degree of masochism bordering on certifiable.
And yet golf’s mad scientist is reaping the reward of such dedication, even if his rounds of 69 and 68 might not fully satisfy the man still known for his infamous description of Augusta as a “par-67”. DeChambeau is a compelling circus act, combining his love of geometry and coefficients of flag stick restitution with an otherworldly power. His average first-round driving distance of 340 yards was more than 15 yards superior to every other player, a statistic that appeared to overwhelm even him.
“Oh, wow,” he said, stunned. In his second, he reduced the fifth, a brutal right-to-left dog-leg and the hardest par-four on the front nine at 495 yards, to a drive and a nine-iron.Not that DeChambeau’s game is rooted solely in freakish Popeye strength.
The subtlety of his approach has evolved from the “bomb-and-gouge” philosophy that he adopted at Winged Foot in 2020, en route to the first of his two US Open triumphs. There, fortified by a daily diet of seven protein shakes, he could launch the ball so far that he did not even worry if it ended up tangled in deep rough, knowing he would seldom face more than a short pitch to any green. At 31, he is not so high on hubris any longer, accepting he needs to adapt to Augusta’s ever-changing nuances.
DeChambeau lines up a birdie putt on the 17th hole during the second round - Reuters/Mike BlakeThis explains his marathon range sessions: on one practice day, he hit an exhausting 393 balls, 146 more than anyone else here. “I’m a little different,” he smiled, with no little understatement. “Something’s not right, I guess.
For me, all that matters is being able to execute the shot the way I want. If I don’t see it come out of a window with the right curvature, I’m going to continue to work until I figure it out and feel that my perception meets reality. I don’t stop.
”Naturally, a certain brashness remains. DeChambeau entered the Long Drive Championship in 2022 specifically to show off his bulked-up physique, reaching the final of the 100-man event by virtue of his preposterous 230mph ball speed, enabling him to propel one drive 406 yards. The essence of his magic, though, is that he connects this cartoonish brawn to a prodigious golfing brain, forever conjuring fresh ways to keep himself amused.
When he is not contending for the Green Jacket, he works on a YouTube series called Break 50, where he invites someone to play with him in a two-person scramble from the forward tees, hoping to make a 49 on a standard course with five eagles and 13 birdies.Lest this be dismissed as a frivolous gimmick, even Donald Trump broke off from last year’s presidential campaign to be a guest. While he can often appear painfully gauche, DeChambeau is a potent draw, capable of reaching audiences far beyond the average PGA Tour android.
Still, he would hardly be Augusta’s No 1 choice as a winner. For all his singular appeal, he was not even included among the featured groups in the second round, ensuring that most of his flourishes were absent from TV coverage. The received wisdom is that the snub is calculated: a product of his controversial defection to LIV Golf, a thorn in the side of the golfing establishment.
If he conjures the quality of which he is capable this weekend, his hosts will no longer have the option of ignoring him. A LIV champion might be a PR nightmare for Augusta, but it is plausible with DeChambeau in his mood. Marrying the muscle of a lumberjack with the mathematical curiosity of a Lucasian Professor, he is arguably the most compelling one-man show in the game.
It is little wonder he has condemned the proposals for the rollback of the ball, intended to be implemented by 2028 to defend courses against the longest hitters, claiming that it would be the “most atrocious thing” for golf’s popularity. “Everybody wants to see people hit it farther,” he said. “That’s part of the reason why a lot of people like what I do.
” On the latest evidence, it would take a hard-hearted soul to tell him he is wrong.Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
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