Though Bradley is hewn from golfing gold, his aunt Pat is a six-time major winner on the LPGA Tour and his father Mark, a teaching pro, he had no pedigree in this field.
Yet the Wanamaker Trophy is his, the final major of the season in the possession of a 25 year-old in his rookie year, only the third after Francis Ouimet at the US Open in 1913 and Ben Curtis at The Open in 2001, to win a big one on major debut. Yes, dreams do come true.
The manner of his victory, via a play-off after falling five shots adrift with three holes to play, utterly transformed an event running out of headlines. Woods was gone by Friday, missing the third cut of his professional career.
US Open champion Rory McIlroy effectively went the day before, though he carried his injured wrist though the weekend. The world No 1 and No 2, Luke Donald and Lee Westwood, threatened briefly on Sunday but never got close enough to clip the heels of Bradley and the equally remarkable Dufner.
Few had heard of Dufner, who strode out of left field and might well return.
He swishes the club like a farming implement at address and looks like he might be preparing to taking heads off corn rather than hit a golf ball. But what a contribution he made. A 34 year-old without a tour win in 10 years of trying was the US PGA Champion on the 15th tee, sitting on a five-shot lead.
But this is golf, major championship golf. It breaks hearts and gives birth to heroes. Watching that lead drain inexorably away and Bradley smash his way back into contention over the most brutal closing stretch in golf after a calamity of his own at 15 matched the theatre of the Masters.
It also introduced us, perhaps, to a star in the making, a platinum young golfer for whom America has been waiting.
It leaves an old man breathless just listening to him. “The course is so tough that no lead is safe,” Bradley said. “I kept trying to tell myself that because I knew, especially if you got a big lead, you might get a little tight coming down the end. It was pretty remarkable the way I played.
"And I’m very proud of the way I played. It’s the best golf I’ve ever played, and man, it was so exciting.” Dufner has the heart the size of a cannonball. His approach at 16, the first of three extra holes, almost hit the pin.
The galleries were in a frenzy and awed at his response. Then along came Bradley to hit his inside it. Dufner putted first and missed from six feet. Bradley would have holed his with a broom.
“As soon as I realised I was going into a play-off, I completely calmed down. I got to the tee on 16, it was the most calm I’ve been probably all week and I absolutely striped it down that hole, which was fun. That hole, I’ll never forget it the rest of my life. It was so exciting.”
After a three-putt at 17 Dufner was cooked despite his brave rally with a birdie at the last.
Bradley was left with two putts for the championship and duly etched his name in history. In the glorious aftermath of hugs and kisses, speeches and champagne, Bradley told us he could have been a skier. Born in Vermont in New England, he grew up on planks in the winter but at the top of a mountain there was a conversion.
“It was a slalom at Killington. I’ll never forget it. It was raining, cold, sleeting, and I’m at the top of this mountain going, ‘this is not as much fun as golf.’ That was the moment that I realised that I wanted to play golf."
Skiing was bigger growing up for me personally. But I was sitting on top of that hill freezing, having no fun, and I said, you know what, I want to be a golfer.” And so it came to pass. Aunty Pat was among those offering congratulation.
“I made my history in the game, and now it’s time for Keegan to make his.
He’s off to a wonderful start.” Work prevented Father Mark, a pro in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, journeying to Atlanta. “Keegan had just birdied the first when I was sending the groups out, so I announced that and everybody cheered,” Bradley said. “I told them I probably wasn’t going to be there when they got back in, because I was going home to watch.” Good for you, sir.
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