By Coleman Bentley
We see tricks shots of all shapes and sizes here at this little corner of Golf Digest where cursing is mostly permitted. Big trick shots and small trick shots. Curvy trick shots and straight trick shots. Well-behaved trick shots and trick shots that jump up and bite you on the hand. You name it, we’ve seen it, from Jenga to Dominic Toretto-inspired golf cart chip-ins. But never, and we mean NEVER, have we seen something quite like this. Phil, eat your heart out, buddy.
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Goodness gracious. This is the Big Bang of flop shots—the flop shot from which all other flop shots whence wriggled. This is a satellite-dinging, F16-scrambling, FAA violation of a flop shot. This is the kind of flop shot that gives Houston problems. Our boy Russell here lobs it over an honest-to-goodness telephone pole at Coeur d’Alene, which we assume just got telephone poles last week. He does it from maybe four feet away and still clears the top by a good six or seven feet. If we didn’t want to believe so bad, we’d maybe even question its validity, but let’s keep this above the belt, shall we?
So kudos to Russell for this mind- and physics-bending beauty. It takes a hell of a lot to make Phil look terrestrial, but this just about does it. As for this poor soul? Not so much. Not so much, indeed.