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Rich Beem lines up a putt during the second round of the Hong Kong Open at Fanling. Photo: Richard Castka
Opinion
James Porteous
James Porteous

Why 2002 major winner Rich Beem has no problems with being one of golf's one-hit wonders

He might not have won a tournament since beating Tiger Woods to win the PGA Championship, but American knows there's more to life than golf

"If we birdie the last four holes, we'll win this," said Tiger Woods to his caddie. Bang, bang, bang, bang. Job done. But Tiger didn't win - Rich Beem did.

No, not the Hong Kong Open yesterday, but the US PGA Championship in 2002.

Beem, who had been selling mobile phones and scraping a living as a club pro in El Paso, Texas, had decided to give the tour another go. He came almost from nowhere to hold off one of the greatest players and become a major champion.

He never won another tournament. Of the 27 subsequent majors his win made him eligible for, he made the cut in 10. Yesterday, at Fanling, he missed the cut by nine strokes.

A little further back, another major champion, South Korea's Y.E. Yang - he also beat Woods at the US PGA in 2009 - scrambled to a 70. Thursday's 76 ensured he was going home, too.

One golden run of form and into the history books - what a game.

Yang, 42, was asked if he thought he would ever hit those heights again: long pause … longer pause … still a pause … okay, Y.E., we get it.

Beem, 44, has long accepted his status as a one-hit wonder, and has no regrets that his annus mirabilis didn't last much longer.

Sitting down over a beer on the Hong Kong Golf Club's veranda with his caddie for the week, Corey McDaniel - an old buddy from Las Cruces High School in New Mexico, who now lives in Hong Kong - Beem almost seems to look back in wonder.

"For me to win the major was so far out of left field I would never even have dreamt it - not to say I didn't earn it, I played better than anyone else. Most of 2002 I was exceptional, I was really good," he recalls.

A former party animal - a book about his rookie year on tour is called - who got a drink-driving charge at the British Open in 1999, Beem had almost abandoned hope, before living the dream in 2002. Immediately after that August Sunday in Minnesota, life changed completely.

"I never really expected things to change as much as they did. So many different things turned out differently than I expected - some were fantastic, some weren't. To have it all take shape the way it did was really interesting.

"Some stuff was written about me that was so far off, it was like 'who are you, who are these people?' - and it hurt.

"People said, 'He putted well for two weeks, that's why he won, we'll never hear from him again' … it was like, 'Oh, my Lord, really?'

"All of sudden everyone 'knew' me - people came up, 'I know your buddy, your ex-roommate in college,' people I might vaguely have known, but definitely weren't a roommate."

Beem still carved out a successful career - almost US$10 million in prize money alone, an annual income of at least half a million a year.

Wife Sarah and his nine-year-old daughter and 11-year-old son ("he says he wants to be a pro golfer, I'll kick him in the butt a little to see if he's really interested") in Austin, Texas, are top of his priorities as he focuses on a commentary career for the Golf Channel and Sky Sports.

"I did experience the highest highs. You're always going to get a low there's no way to avoid it - whether you can bounce back is a different story.

"Winning one major was pretty surreal - to win another one would have been … well, the world would have ended shortly thereafter.

"I don't have a whole lot of regrets. If I have one, even if you consider it a regret, I would love to have won a tournament with my kids being able to see it.

"But they're still pretty content. They get to come out at the PGA and sit in the locker room, I'm in the champions side with Phil [Mickelson] and Tiger and Padraig [Harrington], so they see them go by and they think that's pretty neat, too."

Tiger might have bagged another six majors (to go with the eight he already had) since that day when four consecutive birdies weren't enough. But if we had to guess who's happier, we'd say it's the guy who beat him in 2002.

This article appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition as: The undeniable lightness of Beem on tour
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