I’ve got a confession to make. I’ve developed a man crush. Like most crushes, I guess, I didn’t see it coming either.
I began watching the final round of the Open de España hoping Jon Rahm would win, just so I could write a column about the mental fortitude he’d shown, returning to the DP World Tour to a mixed reception in the wake of him appealing his fines, and shrugged it all off to win in front of a home crowd.
It’s a rare thing in sport to have a so-called neutral actively rooting against the underdog, but I had a vested interest, so I guess I wasn’t that neutral after all. But that all changed.
It was hard not to root for Ángel Hidalgo – all 5’8″ of him. Rahm is a beast – standing 6’2″, built like a prize bull, and with a steely glare and temper to match. And I’m usually all for his volatile persona. He also bludgeons the ball with a three-quarter back swing, creating seemingly effortless power. But in this instance, Hidalgo was the polar opposite. Diminutive in comparison, he seemed to be throwing every ounce of his being behind each drive, and even when he missed a short putt for victory on the 72nd hole, he was all smiles, geeing up the crowd as he made his way back to the 18th tee for what we all assumed would be the Rahm victory procession.
By that time, I’d long switched camp.
How could you not? Three years ago, Hidalgo was playing on the Alps Tour, and though he quickly progressed and earned his DP World Tour card, he’d never won on the premier European circuit. He’d never even been close. Four strokes was the closest he’d ever been to victory, but there were seven others ahead of him then and his highest placing of fourth was nine shots off the winning tally.
Yet here he was, matched up with Rahm and David Puig in an all-Spanish final trio. Puig might not be Jon Rahm, but he’s earned over $13 million since moving to LIV, and while undoubtedly keen to win on home soil, his life wouldn’t drastically change with victory or defeat. Nor would Rahm’s. Hidalgo’s, one the other hand, has just changed dramatically.
From 88th in the Race to Dubai, he’s now just outside the PGA Tour card-earning spots, is guaranteed his place in the big-money Abu Dhabi and Dubai events, and, for the moment at least, is in the automatic Ryder Cup qualification positions.
But all of that is beside the point. Like a miniature Tommy Fleetwood – and Fleetwood ain’t that big – he looked like a man who’d be at home on a surfboard or wielding a guitar on stage at a rock festival, and he embraced the crowd and fed off their energy, much like a musician does.
When he bogeyed the first and Rahm birdied, he’d lost sole possession of the lead for the first time since Thursday and even the most ardent Hidalgo supporter must have feared that the writing was on the wall.
When Hidalgo made back-to-back bogeys on five and six and Puig birdied four of the first seven to take a three-shot lead, it was as good as over. But somehow he held it together; when all around him were losing their heads, he kept his.
Before he even had time to shake Rahm’s hand after making his second consecutive birdie in the playoff, he was mobbed on the green by fellow golfers, dousing him in champagne, and that speaks volumes. Not everybody gets that kind of reception when they win – in fact, it’s quite rare.
Even Rahm, undoubtedly pissed at missing out on a glorious chance for a record-setting fourth Spanish Open victory, embraced a soaked Hidalgo in a genuinely warm fashion once the mob had cleared. It was a sign of genuine respect, and one that goes both ways.
Hidalgo said that he’d been a spectator, cheering Rahm on from outside the ropes when he got his first Spanish Open title back in 2018, and called him the G.O.A.T. of the Spanish Open.
Hidalgo may never become the G.O.A.T., but he’s written himself into Spanish golfing lore and he’s made me a fan for life.
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