SOUTHPORT, England — The last steps of Bryson DeChambeau’s Friday evening went exactly as he would have wanted. While in contention at the Open Championship, he signed autographs, took selfies with his fans and, yes, even discussed a video collab with British YouTube golfers. 

The sun had long set on Royal Birkdale and for a brief moment you might have even forgotten that his previous two hours hadn’t completely thrown this tournament on its side. 

DeChambeau had spent the afternoon roiling the crowd into a frenzy, not too dissimilar to the scenes from two summers ago at the U.S. Open at Pinehurst. He drove it magnificently, angled to the crowd for club selection advice on tee boxes and routinely went out of his way to high-five anyone with an open palm in sight. 

And then, about 10 minutes after grooving a 12-footer for birdie on the 18th, around 8:30 p.m. local time, he learned rules officials were considering issuing him a two-shot penalty for improving his lie on the 5th hole. Any player would have smashed the pause button and demanded an explanation, but this ensuing deliberation put the entire championship on hold for two confusing hours. 

Rather than move toward the driving range and player locker room, DeChambeau and his agent reversed course sharply and ventured out with rules officials to inspect and reenact what happened about five hours earlier. In an instant, they were 1,000 yards away and on the northern edge of the property. TV cameras followed it all while recordings of the broadcast swept up the remaining attention on social media. Nevermind that local hero Tommy Fleetwood was finishing out at four under, nor that Jon Rahm had received a code of conduct warning. The night had shifted. 

At 9:36, DeChambeau finally exited scoring and walked directly to the driving range. 

“Hey everybody, how y’all doin’?” he asked the reporters. (He repeated himself multiple times when he didn’t receive much of a response.)

Trailing behind but veering off to speak with the media was R&A executive director of governance, Grant Moir, who had given DeChambeau the penalty and heard every argument. He stepped in front of cameras holding a copy of the published, two-inch thick Rules of Golf book that governs the game. The rule in question: 8-1, which oversees how a course must be played as it is found. It states that a player may not move or break any growing or attached natural object. DeChambeau’s various steps in and around the mess of fescue, weeds and reeds, the officials decided, impacted the conditions of the shot he played over a hazard and through the green.

Moir was brief and punctual with his statement, which included two important words: inadvertently and accidentally. It implied that DeChambeau would indeed receive a two-shot penalty, that his sterling 66 would become a 68, but that DeChambeau clearly denied knowing he was altering his lie. But that’s where that heavy book comes in handy. According to Rule 8-1, a player must take the “least intrusive course of action” to address his ball, and cannot alter the conditions affecting the stroke, even by mistake.

“I would reiterate this rule applies even when there’s no intention to improve the area, as was the case with Bryson,” Moir said. “That’s all I have to say.”

By this time, DeChambeau was well into a cooldown range session, which we’ve learned can stretch long into the night. A crescent moon crept slowly across the sky. Darkness slid in. His launch monitor only needs a few inches of light and the nearby leaderboard provided plenty. It also offered a new score: five under for the tournament, tied for fifth instead of solo second. 

It may have felt like this was just the final touches of one man’s Friday, but it was far from it. Tour players all over Southport were waiting for the R&A to post tee times for the third round, which had been delayed at least an hour longer than necessary. Justin Thomas even tweeted at The Open asking for clarification. 

In front of one swing coach, his caddie, his manager, his agent, another swing coach and maybe 15 reporters, DeChambeau sent ball after ball after ball into the haze. Irons, woods, the driver, back to irons, more woods, the driver again. DeChambeau turned around cheekily to everyone who had committed their evening to the ordeal and asked, “What do you guys think of the swing? Does it look good?”

And then, “You guys want snacks? I’ve got almonds. I’ve got beef sticks.” 

After nearly an hour, DeChambeau quit around 10:30 and turned toward the massive, tented clubhouse erected for players during a week where, clearly, all kinds of history will be made. Along the way, he paused for those autographs and selfies and shared contact information for one of his content managers. The collab, with Big Wedge Golf and its 800,000-plus subscribers, may happen after all. 

But those fans were just as curious as the rest of the golf world: What does he think of it all? Did this change his routine? Will he still show up for the third round? 

DeChambeau apologized, called it a “rules debacle,” said he was off to eat dinner and thanked them for waiting. As to his plans for the third round, or any other thoughts on the matter, he didn’t offer any clues.