What About Rosey?
Reflections of what we can learn from the competitive character of Justin Rose
A conversational scuffle broke out after a training session of the Thomson Golf Academy on the heels of publishing my Open Letter to Rory McIlroy. TGA stalwart Jacob the Beard accused me of insensitivity by not recognizing Justin Rose's heartbreak over once again coming within reach of claiming the green jacket, only to have it snatched from his grasp in sudden death. I tried to explain that, as a long-time fan of Rose, I was aware of that storyline and moved enough by it to mention the close calls of other players, but that my letter was focused on the effect that Rory's tournament had on me.
Jacob was not satisfied. "It was a tragedy!", he exclaimed, gesticulating wildly with his hands. "You need to write another letter, to Justin." CNBC Eric, who was watching the exchange with amusement, shrugged his shoulders and calmly chimed in with a smirk, "He does have a point." The Beard's feeling was apparently shared by a large portion of the viewing public, as Jason Gay reported in his post-Masters column on April 18th in the Wall Street Journal. "In the hours after Rory McIlroy's dramatic, curse smashing victory at the Masters, I was struck by how many readers wrote me not only about McIlroy, but also about the player who came in second, Justin Rose," relayed Gay. "...noticed amid the Rory mania was the brilliant day of golf — and the quiet sportsmanship — of the 44-year-old Englishman who's been waiting patiently for a green jacket, too."
I control my own editorial queue and will not be bullied by anyone, regardless of how imposing their facial plumage may be. I suggested that if Jacob felt so strongly about it, he should write a piece titled "What About Rosey?" and I committed to reading it. Still not good enough. The Beard continued to badger me. Finally moved by his passion to reflect more deeply over the weeks that followed on Justin Rose's career and what can be taken from it, I was moved to write.
Two words stood out to me in Gay's column, one used by the author and one by Rose himself. One a descriptor of the player: "graceful." And the other, the player's expression of how the game can make us, even the most talented among us, feel: "tormented." Those words were the starting point for an exploration that brought Justin Rose into clearer focus for me.
Grace is a word with classic connotations. Rose is a gentleman professional cut from the old-school cloth, and my contemplation threw me way back to the words of a man of similar bearing, David Forgan. In an address at a gathering at Chicago Golf Club 125 years ago, Forgan shared a description of the game that has become canonical among golf tragics:
"[Golf] is a contest, a duel, or a melee, calling for courage, skills, strategy, and self-control. It is a test of temper, a trial of honor, a revealer of character. It affords a chance to play the man, and act the gentleman."
Over the years, we have seen Rose walk with grace through the torments of this game, in which, as Forgan said, "...you may exhaust yourself, but never your subject." He has proven himself a gentleman and revealed a character described by three additional words that may be out of style, but that still retain their weight and import: fortitude, humility, and dignity.
Rose's entry into golf portended how the ensuing decades of his career would unfold, and how his character would be forged. He broke 70 over 18 holes for the first time at age 11. He was a plus-three handicap at 14. He had a solid junior career, including a Walker Cup appearance when he was 17. At 18, in the 1998 Open Championship at Royal Birkdale, he burst into the public eye by finishing tied for fourth, electrifying the crowd by holing out from 50 yards for a birdie at the last. The sky was the limit for him.
He turned professional and proceeded to miss the cut in 21 straight events, sending him from the heights into the depths of despair. The next decade had moments of success, but would more fairly be described as a grind than smooth sailing. He doggedly searched and worked to regain the old magic, going through periods of befuddlement to which every player can relate. In 2005 he announced that he was quitting the European Tour to play full time in America, only to reverse the decision later that season.
It might have been hard to see from the outside, but momentum was slowly building, and by 2010 Rose hit his stride. He notched his first PGA Tour win and was contending in the majors. He led the charge in the European team's historic comeback at the 2012 Ryder Cup. In 2013, he broke through, claiming the U.S. Open title at Merion, capping off his round with a Hoganesque 4-iron to secure the victory, followed by a point skyward to his father that put lumps in throats around the golfing world. He grabbed the gold medal in the 2016 Olympics. Ascension to World #1, a FedEx Cup, and another Ryder Cup triumph in 2018 completed his climb back to the peak. In 2021 he was awarded the Payne Stewart award, an acknowledgement that his success is about more than his play on the course.
Presented in this manner, the narrative resembles a trendline steadily sloping from the depths back to the heights. A closer look at the plot points, particularly in the majors, reveals more of a sawtooth on that upward rise. In 59% of Rose's 83 career major championship appearances, including the 2025 Masters (runner-up) and PGA Championship (cut), he either finished in the Top 10 or missed the cut, with those outcomes split relatively equally (23 Top 10s vs. 26 cuts). His best Top 10 to Cut ratio is in The Masters (2.3) and the worst is in the Open Championship, where his career started with such promise (0.4).
High highs, low lows. None the less, he has compiled a resume that includes 11 PGA Tour victories, 11 European Tour victories, an Olympic gold, multiple Ryder Cups, and a U.S. Open trophy. Through it all, Rose marched on with fortitude, humility, and dignity, gaining more of our respect and admiration as the years go by.
It takes a special kind of mettle to face major championship pressure knowing that you are equally likely to be in the hunt on Sunday or packing your bags Friday. Fortitude is defined as a strength of mind that enables one to meet danger, or bear pain or adversity with courage. Rose spoke to a mindset that reflects this definition after The Masters when he said, "You can't skip through a career without a little heartache. It's not going to happen. If you're willing to lift the big championships, you've got to put yourself on the line. You have to risk feeling this way to get the reverse."
Make no mistake though, Rose displays no resignation. He is as fierce a competitor as they come. He came back on Phil Mickelson in the 2012 Ryder Cup singles, burying one clutch putt after another down the stretch. He started two back on Sunday in the 2013 U.S. Open, coming out on top after going back and forth with Mickelson all day. He went head-to-head with Henrik Stenson to take the top spot on the podium in Rio in 2016. He shot 31 on the second nine on Sunday to get into a playoff with Sergio Garcia at the 2017 Masters. He caught Rory from seven back in this year's Masters, making 10 birdies on Sunday, eight in the final 12 holes. He recounted an exchange with his caddy on that sensational Sunday at Augusta, "...I said to Fooch, 'What's going on?' He said, 'You're tied for the lead.' I said, 'Okay. Let's birdie 18.'" Shot called. Putt drained. Fortitude.
Rose's career of ups and downs after reaching the heights speaks to one more dimension in his fortitude. We romanticize breakthroughs and imagine that they are followed by happily ever after endings. Rarely is that the case. They are followed by more life, with its infinite variety, and the need to go right back to work. As the Buddhists say, "Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water." Rose has never wavered from putting in the work.
Humility is a quality often misunderstood in modern culture. It is not about humiliation. Humility is about seeing ourselves clearly, our strengths and weaknesses, coupled with a willingness to work at becoming our highest and best selves. It is a private affair, but hints that a person possesses it are evident if we pay attention. Justin Rose has provided just such indicators.
His decision to walk away from a lucrative equipment contract when it was clearly not working was a tacit admission of a mistake, prioritizing pragmatism over ego. Allowing Morgan Stanley to touch on his early career struggles in an ad campaign was an honest account of the reality of life's challenges. And the way he conducted himself at the Masters demonstrated his recognition that when the spotlight shines on others, our role is to join the audience and offer our applause.
When asked about the experience of standing on the 18th green as his friend's winning putt dropped, Rose again embodied humility. "We saw part of history today," he shared. "I said to him, 'Listen, I was glad I was here on this green to witness you win the career Grand Slam.' That's such a cool, momentous moment in the game of golf." Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it is thinking of yourself less. In so doing, we become bigger, stronger, better versions of ourselves. To notice the clues to Justin Rose's humility is to understand why he endures as a great player, and a man of character.
Balancing the desire to perform and win with a healthy sense of perspective is not easy. Rose's skillfulness in striking this balance is a key factor in why he is worthy of our esteem. I use the word dignity, but to him, that's just what professionals do. He summed up where he stands at this point in his career by saying, "I'm feeling like I'm having to make more sacrifices now than I ever have...I'm willing to put in that work...one day, I won't be competing this way at this tournament. So you know, for now, the hard work is totally worth it, to get these little moments, they are very special...For me it's just about fulfilling my childhood dreams, really, and giving everything I've got and no regrets. I think that's what it's all about for me is just trying to look under every stone, push myself as hard as I can to be the best I can be, and I think that's what being professional is."
More than a century on, something tells me that Mr. Forgan would approve. And I feel certain that he would agree that traditional qualities such as fortitude, humility, and dignity still have their place as building blocks of character. Justin Rose is confirmation that a gentleman professional can be a role model rather than a relic.
In addition to writing this mea culpa to Rosey, I also offered the olive branch to Jacob that we would pull for his guy to win one of the remaining majors this year. The Beard responded with his vision for poetic justice. "What I want to see is Justin Rose standing tall as Rory puts the green jacket on his shoulders next year," he said with the faintest detectable hint of moisture in his eyes. With a little luck, we will not be here at the camp at Thomson to watch the 2026 Masters. Wherever fate places us 12 months hence, one thing is certain--there will be a guy with a big beard and an even bigger heart cheering for Justin Rose to have his day. He will not be alone.