T.J.'s Take: Who knew the playoff would be so thrilling?

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This column was supposed to be a rip job on the USGA and its 18-hole Monday playoff to decide the U.S. Open.

T.J. Auclair

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I've always thought it was ridiculous. Isn't it like stealing its own thunder? You have a rousing finish on Sunday evening with the world's No. 1 player making a crucial 12-foot birdie putt on the 72nd hole, millions of people around the world and tens of thousands on the course watching, the excitement is at a fever pitch, but rather than be treated to an immediate playoff to decide the 108th U.S. Open, we have to wait until Monday to watch a nauseating 18 holes of Tiger Woods pounding the guts out of the 157th ranked player in the world, Rocco Mediate.

Nearly as amazing as Tiger's back nine on Saturday, which included two eagles and a chip-in for birdie, the pounding did not take place in the playoff. In fact, the only thing that got pounded was my head with my fist because of some travel plans.

You see, I couldn't find a way to get a later flight on Monday, or even Tuesday. Apparently, being a veteran of 10 U.S. Opens wasn't enough for me to realize that, under no circumstances, do you book a flight for Monday morning or afternoon during U.S. Open week.

I'll be honest. On Sunday evening when the fact that I wouldn't be around for the playoff set in, I wasn't overly disappointed. Come on, I thought. Do I really want to stick around to see this beating? No way.

So, there I was at 9:30 a.m. Pacific, on my way to San Diego International Airport. Following a long wait in the security line where every other person was on their phone getting U.S. Open updates from friends, I finally got to my gate. Conveniently, there was a sports bar with several big-screen televisions right by the gate.

The airport bar looked more like a Vegas casino sportsbook. In my best guesstimation, there had to be about 150 people gathered around the televisions, living and dying with every shot.

Right as I was about to board the plane, the raucous crowd settled down. Through 10 holes, Tiger was three shots ahead of Rocco. At this point, I'm not feeling so bad about not being able to hang around. Seriously, how on earth is Rocco going to catch Tiger now, I thought?

As we pushed away, the pilot welcomed everyone aboard and assured us all that he would be providing U.S. Open updates as he received them. This resulted in a round of applause from the passengers.

Ever the cynic, I didn't applaud. Instead, I rolled my eyes thinking, 'this thing is soooo OVER.' With that, I buried my head into my pillow for a nap. I must have been out for a while, because I was rudely awakened by the kind of cheers you'd expect at a soccer match in Europe.

In a fog, I groggily asked the lady sitting next to me what the enthusiasm was all about. She informed me that the pilot had just announced that Rocco was one shot ahead of Tiger heading to the 18th hole.

What?

This made me feel smaller than the ant-sized cars 33,000 feet below. How could this be? A miserably drawn-out playoff that was actually exciting? Who knew?

I was at Southern Hills in 2001 for the last U.S. Open playoff. The record shows that Retief Goosen defeated Mark Brooks by just two shots, but this thing was practically over by the 12th hole when Goosen had a five-shot advantage. He made a few bogeys coming in, but was never in danger of losing.

But now, Rocco Mediate -- let me type that again -- Rocco Mediate is on the verge of preventing Tiger Woods from winning major No. 14? Are you kidding me?

(Quick aside: Delta, why is it that on my flight to San Diego the seat back in front of me was equipped with a personal television complete with Direct TV, yet on the way back -- when my options wouldn't have been limited to The View, Sesame Street and some cheesy soap operas -- no TV? What gives?)

It seemed as though no one on the plane was pro-Tiger, or pro-Rocco. They were simply, pro-Great Playoff. That's exactly what they were getting even if they couldn't see it.

For the second day in a row, Rocco forced Tiger to have to make birdie on the final hole. As the pilot informed us, that's exactly what Tiger did. So now the pair was moving on to sudden-death which, incidentally, I thought I was going to experience when it was announced.

The playoff didn't last long. Just one hole. You can only fight off Tiger Woods for so long. Rocco did what no one has ever done -- he fought Tiger off for 90 holes, but couldn't do it for 91. It was simply incredible. The greatest golf I was never able to see.

In fact, I heard afterward that Tiger paid the biggest compliment to Rocco that a Tiger runner-up has ever received: "This is probably the greatest tournament I've ever had."

I learned two valuable lessons on Monday. First, an 18-hole playoff can be mind-blowing instead of sickening. Secondly, from here on out I'll be booking Tuesday departures for the U.S. Open.