Older (all of 26) and wiser, renewed Tryon tries again

WINTER GARDEN, Fla. -- The pair stood under a shady oak tree near the parking lot at Orange County National, this year's venue for the annual white-knuckle walk known as Qualifying School, rehashing memories.
Ah, the good old days, comparatively speaking.
Former teen prodigy Ty Tryon and his former looper, Lewis Puller, hadn't crossed paths in forever and were taking a brief amble down Memory Lane. More accurately, the verbal walk was short. The timespan relating to when the anecdote under discussion took place, well, not so much.

It all seemed too easy for Ty Tryon at Q-school in 2001 -- and ultimately, it was. (AP)

Puller was Tryon's regular caddie in 2004 when the former played on the Nationwide Tour, his last exempt season on a major circuit. Tryon recalled the time he was something like 8 under through 13 holes at one event, then mangled a hole and the wheels fell off from there.
"That seemed to happen a lot," Tryon said, not exactly wistfully.
In this particular instance, Puller had asked Tryon to hit "a flighted wedge" into a tucked pin position. Eager to please, Tryon grabbed a lofted club and raked the shot over the back of the green, then asked what the caddie had meant. Barely out of his teens, gung-ho but still green, Tryon had no idea Puller wanted him to hit a penetrating wedge shot. Finesse and nuance were hardly Tryon's forte at the time.
"That one was on me," Puller said.
Given the current context, it's easier for both of them to laugh about it now. Five years later, Tryon is 26 -- certainly not old, but definitely wiser -- and after several prolonged absences from the game's biggest stages, he's finally guaranteed himself some status on one of the big tours in 2011 by clawing his way back to the Q-school finals.
"I am an old 26," Tryon laughed. "A lot has happened in my career already."
Like a horseshoed putt, he has come full circle.
In 2001, Tryon became the hottest prospect in the game when he cruised through Q-school in West Palm Beach at age 17, before he had graduated from high school. He shot 66 in the final round at the final stage and beat roughly 1,000 would-be tour pros over 252 holes in all, so believe what you want with the benefit of hindsight, but it was no fluke.
Nobody gets through three stages of Q-school without some serious tools, although, as the conversation with Puller underscored, Tryon still lacked maturity and polish, which is exactly what the veteran players predicted when he played his rookie season on the PGA Tour in 2002.
"I feel like I am a lot more prepared this time," said Tryon, who shot a 1-over-par 73 on Wednesday. "In fact, I know I am."
It's been an amazingly wild ride, even by the standards of the Orlando-area theme parks. He made a PGA Tour cut at 15, held an overnight lead at age 16, turned pro while still in high school, assembled an all-star support cast, signed with IMG and was pocketing appearance fees while some kids were begging their dads for lunch money. The tour even instituted an age-minimum rule that unofficially carries his name.
But for the past handful of seasons, for the little fish who bravely swam with the sharks, there has been nary a ripple.
"I sort of feel like not much has changed [with my story] lately," Tryon said.
At the moment, his discombobulated career timeline is connected by ellipses ... because if there's one thing golf has taught the masses over the years, it's that somebody's personal or professional outcome is hardly certain. Tryon stands at the threshold alongside 165 other players this week. This time, he isn't planning on wasting a minute.
"I think I took it all for granted," Tryon said this week, scratching at his beard. "After all that has happened, that will not happen again."
It has been an incomprehensible nine years since I hoofed it around the Q-school finals tracking the kid's every move as Tryon breezed through 108 holes with seemingly nary a moment of fret as seasoned pros all around him sputtered. It was pretty clear that he had all the physical attributes necessary to succeed. But the game has a few intangibles that can make a huge difference, too.
Tryon didn't practice as much as he does now. He sometimes showed up to play only a few minutes before his tee time. Once, he famously forgot he had scheduled a practice round with Ernie Els. Maturity wasn't just a term he lacked with regard to his professionalism, either -- he was still going through adolescent growth spurts. The acne medicine he was prescribed at the time, the Tryons believed, affected his game and confidence. Lots of water under miles of bridges.
As you doubtlessly recall, the slide was nearly as quick as the ascent. He caught mononucleosis as a rookie and missed half the season, then played in 2003 on a medical extension. By then, he seemed clearly out of his league -- he missed 17 of 21 cuts and made $125,875. He moved down a notch to the Nationwide a year later, whereupon he made a frightful $9,058 in 22 starts. It's a bad season when the motel maid is outearning you. From Pebble Beach to the occupational rockpile in three rough years. Then, just maybe, back again.
This year, in his biggest achievement in three or four years, Tryon played his way into the U.S. Open at Pebble and made the cut. He started the season on the eGolf Tour in the Carolinas, but quit after a couple of missed cuts, claiming he was tired of losing $2,000 per start in expenses and wanted to stay closer to home in Orlando.
Most of the year, he's stayed played in local money games or on the Florida-based Moonlight Tour, a series of mostly one-day shootouts where players put up an entry fee and then try to win it back. Playing the Moonlight, looking for daylight.
When he wasn't playing, he spent much of 2010 working at the same locale that helped launch him in the first place -- the David Leadbetter Academy outside Orlando. This time, he wasn't the star pupil, but the staff gofer. He picked up balls on the driving range and did whatever was asked of him so he could have a place to practice and play.
"Mostly menial stuff," he said.
Damn right, it's a humbling game. Tryon even considered going into instruction at the academy, but balked at the certification process.
"I have probably had 1,000 lessons, so I know the game," he shrugged. "I don't think I would have been a very good teacher. I'm a player. This is what I want to do and where I want to be."
He waves his hand at the expanse of grass before him. His father, standing nearby, cobbled together an impressive cadre of top coaches, advisers, yoga specialists, psychologists and agents a decade ago with scintillating results, is back and helping mold his star-crossed son into the player they both believe he can be. All over again.
When Ty made it to the tour, Bill Tryon basically let go of the parental reins and let the kid make most of his own decisions. The results seemingly speak volumes. Too much, too soon, too young.
"It's kind of funny," Bill said. "We're doing a lot of the old drills we did together when he was just a kid. It's back to basics."
If not back in time. Hard to believe it's been nearly a decade since Tryon and two other kids obliterated the decades-old American template of taking the college route into the professional ranks. Within the span of a year, Sean O'Hair, Kevin Na and Tryon all flipped the switch before they had finished high school and struck out as professionals.
Struck out, by both definitions of the term, since all three succeeded in some form, but hardly in similar fashion. Na and O'Hair were slower to arrive but have become highly regarded PGA Tour veterans and are fixtures in the world top 100. Very much conversely, Tryon hit a home run in his first at-bat and has been fighting to get back to the majors ever since.
"All of them were trailblazers," Bill Tryon said. "The difference is, they had their rough stretches at the beginning."
Maybe for Tryon, this week marks the end of the beginning. His swing looks the same as it ever did. In that regard, his memorable run to the tour seems like only yesterday. In other ways, it feels like it was a lifetime ago.
His reemergence this week brought to mind an aside by Leadbetter, who remains a friend and still coaches Tryon on occasion, after Ty washed out on tour amid a chorus of folks singing I-told-you-so in hundred-part harmony. Leadbetter said it was far too early to chalk it up the experience as a loss.
"Even if it takes him five more years to figure it out," Leadbetter said at the time, "he'll still only be 25."
Now he's 26, with a wife and a 4-year-old son, Tyson, and has finally made it back to finals after years of stalling at various intermediate stages.
Tryon is upbeat and surprisingly calm, given the 108-hole mulligan that stands before him. In a way, he's relieved that he's already achieved something by getting his foot back in the door on a major tour.
"I feel really good about my game," he said. "I think something really good is going to happen."
If he makes it this time, you can bet he will savor the flavor.

extracted from cbssports.com