Phil Mickelson’s U.S. Open curse is not really a curse in the supernatural sense. It is a record of repeated proximity: six runner-up finishes in the one major championship he has never won. Mickelson won the Masters three times, the PGA Championship twice, and The Open Championship once, but the U.S. Open remained the missing piece between him and the career Grand Slam. His six second-place finishes are the most in U.S. Open history, spread across 1999, 2002, 2004, 2006, 2009, and 2013. That is why this story matters. It is not about one bad break. It is about a great player repeatedly getting close enough to see the trophy, but never close enough to lift it.
Six Runner-Up Finishes and One Missing Major
Mickelson’s U.S. Open near-misses began in 1999 at Pinehurst No. 2, where Payne Stewart made the defining putt on the 72nd hole and won by one. Mickelson had already established himself as one of the most talented players in American golf, but Pinehurst gave the chase a shape: he was good enough to win the U.S. Open, and close enough to feel the loss immediately.
The pattern continued. He finished second again in 2002 at Bethpage Black, where Tiger Woods won. In 2004 at Shinnecock Hills, Mickelson was again in position before a late double bogey helped open the door for Retief Goosen. In 2006 at Winged Foot, he reached the 72nd hole needing par to win and made double bogey, leaving Geoff Ogilvy as champion. That one became the defining wound, the U.S. Open loss most often attached to Mickelson’s career.
There were more. In 2009 at Bethpage Black, he shared second behind Lucas Glover. In 2013 at Merion, on his 43rd birthday, he led entering the final round before Justin Rose won and Mickelson finished second again. The USGA record book lists those six runner-up finishes as the championship record.
Why the U.S. Open Was Always the Hardest Fit
The U.S. Open has traditionally rewarded restraint, patience, driving accuracy, disciplined course management, and the ability to accept pars without forcing the issue. Mickelson’s greatness often came from a different place. His best golf was imaginative, aggressive, and built around shotmaking. He could escape trouble better than almost anyone, but the U.S. Open is the major least interested in rewarding escape artistry.
That tension is what made his pursuit so compelling. Mickelson did not fail at the U.S. Open because he was overmatched. He repeatedly contended on some of the championship’s most demanding stages. The issue was that the same creativity that made him beloved could become dangerous under U.S. Open conditions. Winged Foot in 2006 captured that contradiction most clearly: the instinct to attack, the refusal to play safely, and the devastating cost when the margin for error disappeared.
His record also complicates the idea of failure. Six runner-up finishes at the U.S. Open represent extraordinary consistency. Most players never seriously contend in a U.S. Open once. Mickelson did it across eras, courses, and versions of his own game. The frustration is not that he was absent from the championship’s history. It is that he became central to it without ever becoming its champion.
Why Phil Mickelson’s U.S. Open Curse Still Defines His Legacy
Phil Mickelson’s U.S. Open curse matters because it is the one gap in an otherwise complete major championship résumé. His 2021 PGA Championship victory gave him six major titles and made him the oldest major winner in men’s golf history, but it also extended his U.S. Open exemption window and kept the career Grand Slam conversation alive. Even as he moved deeper into his 50s, the U.S. Open remained the one trophy that could change the final shape of his legacy.
That missing piece places Mickelson in one of golf’s most fascinating categories: not the player who could not win majors, but the player who won almost everything except the one major that seemed to resist him. The distinction matters. His Masters wins showed touch and nerve. His PGA Championship wins showed staying power. His Open Championship win at Muirfield in 2013 showed he could solve links golf. The U.S. Open, though, became the unresolved chapter.
For fans, the near-misses are part of the appeal. Mickelson’s career was never clean or clinical. It had risk, recovery, brilliance, and visible consequence. The U.S. Open brought all of that into focus better than any other tournament. It showed both the height of his talent and the cost of his style.
Phil Mickelson’s U.S. Open story remains one of golf’s great unfinished pursuits. The six runner-up finishes are not just a statistic. They are a map of chances, pressure, mistakes, and resilience across more than a decade. He never needed a U.S. Open to prove he was great, but winning one would have made his résumé whole.
