While shoveling manure, you learn things. U.S. Open contender knows this well

SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. — You learn s**t while shoveling manure. 

And from tending chickens. And from gathering their eggs. And from hand-packing those eggs. Billy Mouw, of Billy’s Egg Farm in Chino, Calif., can tell you all about the operation. For 30-plus years, they’ve been selling some of the Los Angeles area’s best eggs, and in the chicken-and-the-egg business, there is no mistaking what comes first:

The chicken and the egg. 

“Yeah, it’s 24-7,” Mouw said from back home in California, via a phone call Friday. “The chickens lay eggs every day, even Christmas, so oftentimes, our family would be out there gathering eggs on Christmas, yup.”

His son has been there, and in a pinch, he said he still is. This week, though, William Mouw is clear across the other side of the country, at Shinnecock Hills Golf Club, for the U.S. Open. Mouw’s a 25-year-pro. Played at Pepperdine. Has won once on the PGA Tour. Is ranked 131st in the world. The elder Moux said his son started taking golf seriously about a decade ago, and now look at him. Friday, while playing his 33rd hole of this national championship, Mouw was tied for second. 

Then golf happened. 

Tee ball that found fairway grass on the par-5 16th, but leaned up against the collar of the left rough. It came out squirrely. That shot finished inches above a fairway bunker, mixed among fescue hay, and two volunteers, fearful of losing the ball, sentineled over it. Mouw could only choke down on an iron and shove it out. 

That shot ended up 80 yards from the green, and Mouw could still make par. But his approach bounced once, bounced off the flagstick and went into reverse, all the way into a greenside bunker. He walked off with 7 strokes, three of which where had they been collectively a couple feet in another direction, his fate would have gone a different route. But he went to the 17th at even-par, and his tee shot there dropped into another bunker.  

The mind races here, but maybe it ends up back home, on the farm, in the coop, at the will of poultry. Dad said he was watching. He said he and his wife, Michelle, would have been out this week on Long Island, but his dad, another William Mouw, recently died. Everyone in the chicken farming family plays golf, and they maybe understand the game’s whims better than everyone.

Golf happened?

Manure happens too. 

At Billy’s Egg Farm, it does. 

And guess what? You shovel it. 

“Yeah, he’s a tough kid, mentally tough,” Billy Mouw said. “And in order to play golf, you’ve got to be mentally tough. I know it’s hard sometimes, but he’s always been able to do that. 

“He’s always had that, like, the God-given ability to just dig it out, out of his gut, and do it.”

“Yeah, it was pretty unfortunate, but over the course of a tournament, you’re going to get bad breaks,” William Mouw said after his round. “So, you know, honestly, sometimes in a major championship, double is OK. Would have liked to save bogey, but I had a lot of great saves on the back nine. To finish with two great up-and-downs on 17 and 18 was just the way to bounce back and stay in a positive mindset.”

Oh yeah, 17 and 18. 

On the penultimate hole, Mouw splashed out of the bunker, then rolled in a 10-footer. Par. Fist-pump. “Yeah, sometimes that comes out,” the usually reserved Mouw said. “That one meant a lot to me just because of what happened on 16. It was pretty unfortunate. To see that lip in [on 17], I think that was just, you know, a tap to a positive attitude and a little bit of grittiness.”

On the finisher, Mouw pitched to 4 feet and lipped-in that putt. Par. Par after two rounds. Par through two rounds. Saturday, he’ll start seven back of leader Wyndham Clark.

“I did get some good breaks today, too, so you can’t just look at the bad breaks,” he said. “So I just took that. Like my putt lipping in on the last, that was awesome.”

The weekend, of course, will be altogether different. Mouw’s previously played in two majors, finishing in a tie for 70th last month at the PGA Championship and missing the cut four years ago at the U.S. Open. Maybe he sticks around. Maybe not. Perhaps he contends. Perhaps he fades. 

He said he’s optimistic, though. 

Along the way, he’s learned, well, you know what. 

“Confidence comes from the hours that you put in when no one is looking,” Mouw said, “and just the continuous, you know, good habits on a daily basis and do the best you can on repeating those habits and let the results take care of themselves.

“So if I’d have to say, the confidence comes from the consistent, solid, hard work behind the scenes.”

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