Mickelson battling on two fronts

They spent nearly seven hours together last Tuesday, Phil Mickelson and his renowned short-game coach, Dave Pelz. In between all those practice chips and pitches at Bethpage Black, Pelz did his best to avoid the delicate topic — the condition of Amy Mickelson, whose breast-cancer diagnosis prompted Phil to leave the PGA Tour for three weeks. ”He and Amy have been through so much trauma and stress,” Pelz said by telephone. “I wanted the day to be as different as possible. I wanted it to be normal.” Normal is abnormal for Mickelson. He’s a natural right-hander who plays left-handed, a big man known for hitting feathery flop shots. He’s a SoCal guy revered by New Yorkers. He’s intellectual enough to patent a business idea involving tax-free retirement accounts but forever will be remembered for his brain cramp at the 72nd hole of the 2006 U.S. Open at Winged Foot. Rather than pitch back to the fairway after a wayward drive, he tried to cut a 3-iron from the rough around some trees. Decisions like that, of course, contribute to his appeal. He’s a modern-day Arnold Palmer, a risk-taker with no lay-up or let-up. And he will be No. 2 for as long as Tiger Woods roams the earth. New York might consider itself the capital of the world, but its people are suckers for an underdog. How about an underdog whose first priority is caring for his sick wife? Suffice it to say, the ground might shake when Mickelson is introduced at 1:36 p.m. (EDT) Thursday on the 10th tee at Bethpage for the U.S. Open. Pelz got a preview during Mickelson’s practice round. ”The course was closed, but people were watching — yelling and cheering for him,” he said. “In New York, they’re ‘people’ people. They care about Phil.” It’s a two-way street. After Woods completed a practice round last week, the New York Daily News reported he “went out of his way” to avoid making contact with the 100 or so people hoping to greet him. Mickelson, meanwhile, signed autographs and answered questions from about three dozen fans after his lengthy practice session. He told fans inquiring about Amy that “she’s hanging in there.” He was more expansive a day later in Memphis, site of last week’s Stanford St. Jude Championship where he Sunday would finish in a tie for 60th. His eyes teared up when he said: “I’ve never been this emotional where, if I’m driving alone or what have you, I just start crying. ”I’m looking forward to having a four- or five-hour mental break where I force myself to focus on something else.” Reality will hit after the Open when Mickelson returns to Rancho Santa Fe, Calif., to be with Amy and their three children. Amy’s treatment, which will include some form of surgery, will begin July 1 and might keep him off the course for much of the summer. ”I don’t know when I’ll play again,” Mickelson said. “I don’t know what our treatment schedule will be like after surgery. I don’t know exactly what we’re facing yet.” Here’s what he does know: “(Amy) is the most charismatic person I have ever met. She has an impact on people, the way she looks you in the eye, the way she listens to what you have to say, and she genuinely cares.” Mickelson’s supporters say much the same about him. The New Yorkers who will cheer him this week can appreciate a Broadway performance; they also are not prone to falling for an act. Mickelson finished second to Woods in 2002 at Bethpage, a championship dubbed “The People’s Open” because it was played on a public course with resident weekday green fees of only $50. Makes you wonder how Mickelson, a man of the people, will respond when all those well-wishers express sympathy and support as he walks from green to tee. Will he be able to keep his focus at one of the world’s toughest venues? ”I wouldn’t bet against him,” Pelz said. “He has the talent. And he has the heart.”