The margin for a mistake in professional golf is razor-thin, and on Thursday at PGA West’s Stadium Course, Brian Harman found out just how sharp that edge can be.
A Clean Shot, a Costly Mistake
It was the first round of the American Express, and things seemed to be moving along as expected. On the 10th hole, Harman’s second shot looked pure. It tracked beautifully, landing inside 10 feet from the pin. A birdie look and a clean opportunity. Then came the pause. The kind of moment that breaks the rhythm, not just of a hole, but of an entire round. Something wasn’t right.
A closer inspection confirmed the worst: it wasn’t his ball.
In a game where precision reigns supreme, few mistakes feel more jarring, or more avoidable, than hitting the wrong ball. But that’s exactly what Harman had done. The ball didn’t belong to Max Homa, his playing partner, but to an amateur in the group. The American Express is a pro-am format for its first three rounds, which can muddy even the clearest intentions. Harman, ever the professional, had marked his white Titleist with a black Sharpie. But that day, it didn’t matter. Whether the logo was face-down or the markings too subtle to spot, Harman’s attention to detail failed him for just long enough to cost him.
Rule 6.3c(1): No Wiggle Room in the Rulebook
The penalty was swift and uncompromising. Two strokes, under Rule 6.3c(1). Play the wrong ball in stroke play, and the rules are clear: take your penalty and continue with the correct ball. So Harman went back, found his original ball, and played on. His fourth shot caromed off the rocks beside the green, a rugged, humiliating reminder of the mistake, but it found the putting surface. Two putts later, he’d walked off the hole with a double bogey.
Broadcast analysts tried to piece together how the error occurred. Theories emerged — similar numbers, similar markings, a rare lapse in communication between pros and amateurs. As Smylie Kaufman noted, pros don’t often compare golf balls with their amateur partners, especially when tee boxes differ. It was, in many ways, a perfect storm.
A Reminder Etched in Sharpie
Still, the responsibility lies with the player. Harman knew it. That’s why, after finishing the hole, he pulled out the Sharpie again. He marked the ball. Then, with a kind of ceremonial finality, tossed the Sharpie into his bag.
In a sport where identity is everything, your game, your mindset, your ball, Harman’s quiet gesture said it all. Mistakes are inevitable. Repeating them is not.
