In hours after J.J. Spaun’s U.S. Open win, the best moment was unscripted

OAKMONT, Pa. — Here comes J.J. Spaun, shuffling down metal stairs, U.S. Open trophy in one hand and surrounded by boom mics and cameras. It’s gone dark at Oakmont Country Club, save for the flood lights illuminating the parking lot and the set of Golf Channel’s “Live From,” where Spaun is just now exiting.

He’s tired, but he’s running on adrenaline. It’s been a long day. He was up at 3 a.m., the man tied for third at the U.S. Open, running to CVS to get his daughter medicine. Then there was a rain delay thrown in the middle of 18 grueling holes in the world’s hardest tournament on one of its hardest courses in even harder conditions. He had to deal with a dreadful start to his round, bad breaks and all those major championship nerves. Then he decided the heck with all that, he was going to win the U.S. Open anyway. Now he’s been moving non-stop for the last two-plus hours. A trophy engraving is up next, one of the greatest obligations for the champion of one of golf’s greatest events.

Finally, he asks the question he’s been wondering for a while now.

“What time is it?”

***

INSIDE OAKMONT’S CLUBHOUSE, THEY ARE VACUUMING. This place has been bustling for the past week — with golfers, caddies, members and VIP guests — but now it’s eerily quiet and the vacuums hum along from a couple of rooms away.

It’s 10 p.m., and J.J. Spaun sits in a chair behind two massive oak doors with white trim. He’s going through the gauntlet of interviews with USGA rights-holders — first TSN, then CNN, followed by ESPN and SiriusXM. A USGA staffer watches the live ESPN hit from their phone, 15 feet away.

Since Spaun made his U.S. Open-winning putt a few minutes after 8 p.m. — a 64-footer for birdie that gave him a two-shot victory over Robert MacInytre — it’s been a tiring, chaotic blast. The good type of busy.

First came the 18th-green trophy presentation, followed by NBC and rights-holder interviews on the green. He then posed for photos before hopping into a golf cart and conducting a press conference with additional media. Thirty minutes later he was back in the cart, trophy in tow, returning to the 18th green. A dozen photographers were waiting for him, killing time by snapping shots of a USGA staffer to get the lighting just right.

More photos followed — with the USGA, with Oakmont members, with his family (his wife, Melody, and their two daughters), his agent, caddie, coaches and friends. Some security guards, nearing the end of their week-long shift, gathered on the green for front-row seats.

Johnson Wagner stood nearby, waiting to reenact Spaun’s 72nd-hole putt for TV. At 9:30 p.m., the green cleared, Wagner was on, and Spaun disappeared into the clubhouse for the TV hits. At 10:10 p.m. he emerged from the room and was led to the “Live From” set, where he flanked Rich Lerner, Brandel Chamblee and Paul McGinley.

Four workers, taking a break from clean-up duty, stood on their tip-toes to steal a glimpse.

***

THESE POST-WIN ITINERARIES ARE SIMPLY GUIDES. There’s room to go off script. Like when Bryson DeChambeau won the U.S. Open last year, he wasted no time getting to New York City for the media tour, flying through the night.

Sometimes you have to leave room for spontaneity, like when the trophy presentation ended on Sunday night, right before the ever-important U.S. Open rights-holder one-on-ones were to start. Instead of jumping into his next set of interviews, Spaun walked briskly to the far end of the 18th green, and he walked alone. This was not scheduled.

A USGA official — in an effort to keep dozens of people with agendas and jobs to do informed — narrated the scene for photographers, cameramen and media: “He is just saying hi to his dad.”

John Spaun, wearing a black 2025 Masters hat, has been here all week. He walked 18 holes on Sunday. He flew in from Arizona and tries to watch his son play in the majors and most of the west coast events. He knew his son was special when he was just 7 years old, when J.J. had a beautiful, inside-out swing. A gift from God, John called it.

Twenty-seven years later, that gift had delivered John a present.

“As soon as he was walking toward me with that trophy, I just lost it,” John says. “Tears. I just couldn’t hold it in.”

John, like J.J., never lost hope Sunday, even after J.J. bogeyed five of his first six holes. His son always comes back, he said, so he wasn’t surprised when J.J. birdied four of his last seven as his competition fell apart. Throughout this journey there had been lots of ups and down — J.J. himself called it a “fairytale ending” — but no moment was sweeter than this. John told his son he was proud of him.

They hugged, and it lasted several long seconds; John closed his eyes, as if to engrain a memory forever. His eyes welled up and he kissed his son on the cheek. From the grandstands behind them, a man yelled, “Happy Father’s Day!”

It’s unclear which Spaun they were shouting to, but it didn’t matter. A few minutes later, John held one of J.J.’s two daughters and told her how amazing her father was.

“Daddy won,” she told her grandfather. “He has a trophy now.”

***

THE U.S. OPEN TROPHY IS 18-INCHES TALL AND MADE OF STERLING SILVER. The original one from 1885 was lost in a fire in 1946, and an exact replica was used until it was retired in 1986. This is the third version, but it’s no less spectacular. Spaun carries it in his left hand as he leaves the “Live From” set, heads through a parking lot, up a walkway and back into the Oakmont clubhouse.

The steps to the second floor locker room creak as you walk over them. There’s no air conditioning up here, and the fans are all on full blast. When it’s quiet enough you can hear them whir, but around the corner, in a room off the stairway, a party is coming to life.

There’s food out, music playing and about a dozen people — Spaun’s team, friends and Oakmont staffers — awaiting the arrival of golf’s newest major champion. This is the last stop of the night. Dozens of U.S. Open flags and posters sit on a table in the middle of the room, waiting for Spaun to scribble his name onto them.

But first, he sits next to Otto Carter, who is about to engrave Spaun’s name on a trophy. A day earlier Carter happened to ride on the same shuttle as Spaun’s wife, and he joked that he pulled for the players with the shortest names. (He must have been pleased with Spaun’s victory.)

For just a moment, perhaps to see how good it feels to relax, Spaun slouched back in his chair and exhaled. Someone brings him a beer in a U.S. Open cup, the ones fans used all week long, and sets it next to him.

“My mind is still racing,” Spaun says. “It’s going to sink in probably tomorrow.”

Spaun was asked about being a father during his press conference, but he was never asked about his father, the man he hugged on the 18th green a few hours earlier, the same one who watched that press conference from the back of the room.

“It’s been an incredible journey,” Spaun tells me. “My dad introduced me to the game and always supported me every step of the way. It was awesome to have him out there to witness it and spend his Father’s Day watching me play. What better gift to give him than being able to win the U.S. Open.”

This group might go to NYC on Monday, or perhaps Tuesday, for even more photos yet and appearances on a long list of talk shows. But that isn’t a decision to be made this second. J.J. Spaun just outlasted 155 others on golf’s ultimate battleground.

Outside the clubhouse, the rain has stopped, the 18th green is deserted. Oakmont is closing down. But up on the second floor, in a stuffy room littered with photos of golf legends, a celebration is underway. Sleep be damned.

You can reach the author at joshua.berhow@golf.com.

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