The dawn’s early light broke slow and heavy over Bethpage State Park, a pale wash creeping through the trees as if reluctant to reveal the chaos already under way. Fans clad in red, white and blue had been congregating outside since three in the morning, trotting down floodlit paths to the first-tee grandstand when the gates finally swung open at five. By six, thousands were already wedged together in the dark, swaying to chants and clutching cardboard cups of coffee and greasy breakfast cheeseburgers.
When the clock ticked toward the 7.10am start time, the atmosphere boiled over in the 5,000-seat amphitheatre. The chants ricocheted around the stands: “We want Bryson! We want Bryson!” Some wore DeChambeau’s name scrawled across their bare chests while others waved handwritten signs.
