It’s frankly bonkers how quickly Alex Fitzpatrick rocketed up the golf charts. Just yesterday, it feels like, his PGA Tour future was about as stable as a Jenga tower in an earthquake. But here we are, watching him prepare for the FedEx Cup playoffs, a place that usually requires more foresight than a crystal ball.
Fitzpatrick, bless his audacious heart, has officially claimed the title of golf's surprise package rookie. Winning the Zurich Classic with his brother Matt – talk about the big brother dynamic getting a serious workout – was just the shiny cherry on top. Toss in five more top-10 finishes on the PGA Tour and a cheeky win on the DP World Tour, and you’ve got a player who’s absolutely blown expectations out of the water. He calls the “grind” – especially the mental gymnastics required at places like Muirfield Village and the notoriously tough Shinnecock – what forged him. I reckon it just made him tougher.
He’ll tell you, with the sort of blunt honesty usually reserved for vicarage tea parties, that if he’d met his current self six months ago, he’d have assumed he was on some serious hallucinogens. Professional golf, that glorious, fickle beast where a slightly misjudged breeze can change your life, had him “close to losing my DP World Tour card” last year. Now, he’s on the verge of playoff glory, which, as he wisely points out, is “hard to wrap your head around.”
That decision to play the Zurich Classic, a choice that apparently involved family debates and a brief consideration of a trip to China for DP World Tour points, now looks as brilliant as discovering fire. In his own words, it was “the best decision I’ve ever made.” And honestly, who wouldn’t jump at the chance for a multi-year PGA Tour exemption? It’s the kind of opportunity that makes you want to dance a jig.
And then there was the putt. A measly foot, you say? On the 18th at the Zurich, with that golden ticket to the PGA Tour – the very key to this current penthouse suite – teetering on the edge, a foot can feel like the Pacific Ocean. He claims, with that charming self-deprecation, that he “can’t miss that putt.” But I suspect the sheer relief and the dawning realization of his dramatically altered life might have been a tougher opponent than the three-footer itself. He wasn't scared of missing; he was too busy having his entire world flipped upside down.
His PGA Tour debut landed him smack-dab in the middle of majors and Signature Events. You’d expect a player easing into things, maybe testing the waters before wading into the deep end with the sharks. Nope. Fitzpatrick dove headfirst into the shark tank with a series of solid finishes: T9 at the Cadillac Championship, fourth at the Truist, T6 at Memorial, and a respectable T25 at the U.S. Open. This rapid-fire immersion suggests that beneath that polite demeanor, the guy has a quiet, unwavering belief that he absolutely belongs with the best. That self-belief, it turns out, wasn't just there; it was practically roaring.