What's the difference?

Which was more impressive: Tiger in 2000 or Rory in 2011? Both were incredible, mindboggling runaways. At the same time, says Melanie Hauser, these two historic U.S. Open victories were very different.

By Melanie Hauser, PGATOUR.COM Contributor

BETHESDA, Md. – Tiger in 2000? Or Rory in 2011?

That would seem to be the U.S. Open question of the week.

Every radio show asked it. Random people on the shuttle bus wanted an opinion. Lunch discussions in the media dining room went ‘round and ‘round.

My answer? They were both incredible. Epic. Mindboggling runaways. Mesmerizing. Intriguing. And incredible glimpses into golf’s future.

At the same time, they very different.

What we had here at this 111th U.S. Open was a coronation. A changing of the guard at the top from icy and dominating to low-key and an oh-so-normal likeable and cool.

Rory McIlroy loped around Congressional this week with his apple cheeks and puppy dog grin and simply blew the field away. He went to dinner three nights in a row with one of those chasing him. He was composed, patient and always in control. 

He wasn’t afraid to admit what he didn’t do at Augusta National, he simply told everyone he got over it. And fast. He laughed. He bantered with the players, fans and media. He low-fived tiny fans along the fairway.

He was just himself.

And, oh, he played flawless golf.

He won his first major. Emphasis on first. He hugged defending champion Graeme McDowell, who said Rory is simply the best he’s ever seen, as hard as he hugged his father. He was genuine. A people’s champion. A player who knows what he wants to do, but gives you the impression he might not fully realize the potential everyone else sees.

And, yes, they’re already talking Jack Nicklaus’ record. After one major.

We were talking that too at Pebble Beach at the millennial U.S. Open. But the main character already had two majors and was grinding for more. He blew us away in his first major win, too, winning the 1997 Masters by a dozen and changing the face of the game.

He had won the PGA Championship in 1999 and finished fifth at the 2000 Masters. And at Pebble? He just simply raised the bar. With the Pacific as a backdrop, Woods carved up the field with an icy precision. He glared. He swore. He hit shots that simply blew everyone’s mind.

He was out to separate himself from the field, throw the rank-and-file into a tizzy and redefine dominance. And, oh, lord, he did every bit of that and more.

After that, just his name popping onto the leader board threw a scare into every field. There were no questions, only separation. Three majors later, he had the Tiger Slam. The first man to hold all four major titles at the same time; the man who was on a collision course with Jack’s record of 18 majors.

Was one better than the other? I just go with different. Different men, different courses  and two weeks of absolutely mind-altering golf. Rory had one three-putt all week; Tiger had none. Yes, Rory’s 268 broke the U.S. Open scoring record held by Jack, Tiger at Pebble, Lee Janzen and Jim Furyk. His 16-under total broke Tiger’s record for most strokes under par, too.

It was great to be at Pebble in 2000 and see a decade into the future. It’s equally exciting to have been here and know what a great decade or more is ahead of Rory.

But would these make my top five U.S. Opens? Absolutely. No brainer.

Of course, I didn’t get the chance to see all of my favorites, but isn’t that the beauty of this game? You grow up with the stories, the pictures and the history. You didn’t have to be there to know.

A couple potential candidates happened before I was born. Two when I was in grade school. These last two? Both three-plus decades into my career. All of them were moments that jump-started or defined careers.

So here they are in order.

1. Arnold Palmer, 1960, Cherry Hills. It simply doesn’t get better than a final-day cast that includes the King, Ben Hogan and Jack. Jack, of course, was an amateur. Hogan had already won four U.S. Opens – five if you’re from Texas like me and grew up listening to Dan Jenkins – and Arnold was in search of his first U.S. Open. Mike Souchak started the final day – it was 36 holes back then – with the lead. Arnold was seven back; Hogan and Jack were three back. After 18, Arnold popped into the locker room for a sandwich and asked a writer friend of his "Wonder what a 65 would bring this afternoon?"  The writer told him it wouldn’t do him only good. It would only matter if Hogan shot it. That fired him up and he drove the green on the 346-yard par-4 fourth hole. He birdied four out of the first five holes, shot his 65 and beat Jack by two shots.

2. Jack Nicklaus, 1962, Oakmont. The kid – now a rookie – beat Arnie in his own backyard and it, too, signaled a changing of the guard. They battled down the stretch and wound up in an 18-hole playoff. The crowd was behind Arnie and did everything, including calling him “Fat Jack” and stamping their feet, when Jack lined up a putt. It didn’t work. Jack shot 71, Arnie 74, and Arnie said simply,  "Now that the big guy is out of the cage, everybody better run for cover." A record 18 majors later, they knew what he meant.

3. Tiger Woods, 2000. Any questions? None. Only fear. What Tiger did that week was decimate the field. Remove doubt as to who the best player in the world was and instill doubt every player trying to catch him. It made people who hated golf want to watch it. It took golf from a quiet weekend sport to a major player at the financial table.

4. Rory McIlroy, 2011. Too soon? Maybe so, but it’s hard to leave out something this exquisite. Another game-changer, too. A marvelous, humble, yet confident young player comes back from a Masters meltdown. He misses what – one shot? – all week? Instead of fearing him, the field applauds him.

5. By far the toughest. Give me six or seven or 10 and I’m good. Five and I’m trying to decide between Hogan’s comeback from that horrific car accident at Merion, Payne Stewart’s emotional win over Phil Mickelson at Pinehurst in 1999 that defined his career yet reminds us of his loss two months later in that tragic plane accident or Tom Watson at Pebble in 1982. I know, there are so many more, but this is deadline time, so I have to pull the trigger. The choice? Watson. His chip-in on the 17th hole to beat Jack was as iconic as they come. He’s looking at bogey, the announcers are giving the trophy to Nicklaus and …. BOOM. Came out of my seat when it fell in the cup.

I know, Jenkins won’t like me overlooking Hogan, but ... like I said, next time give me 10.