Pat Bradley, the LPGA Hall of Famer, has her own Hall of Fame — the Pat Bradley Room — that debuted earlier this summer in the Massachusetts state golf association’s headquarters in Norton, about 30 miles south of Boston and 65 miles south of Bradley’s hometown of Westford. The elegantly appointed space with crown molding on the ceiling and natural light spilling though large windows houses all six of Bradley’s major trophies along with about 180 other photos, plaques, plates and other assorted P.B. memorabilia, including a bowling bag and Cabbage Patch Kid.
When the room opened on July 1, more than 100 guests came to celebrate the occasion, among them Pat’s 39-year-old nephew Keegan, whose attendance, in what has been an exceedingly busy year for him, delighted his aunt. “You made everybody’s day,” she later texted him, “but you especially made my day.”
Keegan, you’re likely aware, is captaining the 2025 U.S. Ryder Cup team, which a month from now will square off with its European counterpart at Bethpage Black on Long Island. There are many remarkable elements to Keegan’s captaincy — his relatively young age; his pedigree (he’s played in only two Ryder Cups and none since 2014); his lone-wolf status (when he was named captain, he was by his own admission a bit of a Tour outsider who largely kept to himself at tournaments).
But the wildest wrinkle might be that Aunt Pat filled the equivalent role in the women’s game, when she captained the 2000 U.S. Solheim Cup team — serendipity that was not lost on Keegan. After accepting his Ryder Cup post last summer, Keegan excitedly called his aunt and said, “Pat, we’ve made history. We got a Ryder Cup captain and Solheim Cup in the same family.”
Keegan has not consulted Pat for much tactical captaining advice, she said Thursday in an interview with my colleague, Claire Rogers. But Pat did say that the decision that the golf world has obsessed over for the better part of the last four months — whether Keegan would or should expend one of his captain’s picks on himself — “weighed on him.” Pat said Keegan looked inward as he mulled the matter but also leaned on his father Mark, who is a club pro, and Keegan’s five assistant captains. Pat’s only counsel: “Whatever decision you make, hon, it will be the right decision.”
That decision, we learned Wednesday, was that Keegan would focus exclusively on running his team and not playing on it.
Was Pat surprised?
“Not really,” she said, adding, “I would have loved for him to play, and he would have played if the curveball of a captaincy hadn’t come.”
Pat knows the weight of leading a team, and that no matter how much you plan, the unexpected can and will happen. At the 2000 Solheim Cup at Loch Lomond in Scotland, the weather was dreadful: rain, wind, slop, delays. The conditions were so bad that tournament organizers, concerned that the event might not finish in the allotted time, asked each captain to put one of their respective player’s names in an envelope should the need arise for an emergency sudden-death playoff to determine a winner.
No such drastic action was necessary — the matches finished on Sunday with Europe cruising to a three-point win — but another unlikely scenario did require Bradley’s attention, after European star Annika Sorenstam holed a 25-foot chip in a Sunday morning fourball match. After the ball dropped, one of Sorenstam’s opponents, Kelly Robbins, noted that Sorenstam had played out of turn. Under Rule 10-1c, the Americans could either require Sorenstam to replay the shot or let it stand. Bradley requested that Sorenstam replay it, which some observers felt was unsporting. “We played within the rules of the game,” Bradley later said. “When the rules of the game are upheld, the spirit of the game is upheld.”
What lessons did Pat take from her captaincy? “You gotta be flexible,” she said Thursday. “And you gotta be true to your process.”
Pat and Keegan both like to tell a story about the 1999 Ryder Cup at The Country Club in Brookline, Mass.; that was the year Justin Leonard holed a snaking putt to seal a stirring comeback win for the Americans. Keegan, then 13, was there that week and greenside as Leonard sized up his putt. Keegan couldn’t see much so his father hoisted him up on his shoulders to witness Leonard making what would become one of the most indelible putts in the history of the game. As Pat tells it, in that moment Keegan said to his father, “Dad, I want to be in a Ryder Cup someday.”
“And from that moment on,” Pat said, “it was not just a dream — it was a mission.”
Keegan has said that he and Pat are much alike in terms of their competitive intensity and perseverance. Pat’s drive, she said, came in part from growing up as the only sister among five brothers and constantly feeling like she needed to prove herself. Keegan’s came from growing up in Vermont, where he skied as much as he played golf, and Massachusetts and later attending St. John’s University in Queens, New York — an unlikely path for a young golfer with dreams of playing the PGA Tour.
Because of his background, Keegan, like Pat, also found himself feeling like he needed to prove he belonged. His talent helped on that front. So did his work ethic. But so did one other quality. “He was a leader with his cousins,” Pat said. “He was a leader on the ski slopes. He was a leader in college.” Of his Ryder Cup role, Pat added, “He was made for this moment.”
Pat will be there at Bethpage next month when her nephew enters the electric colosseum that will be the first tee on Friday morning. She knows her nerves will be jumping, just as they did when she herself took first the first tee as a player. But she also knows another emotion will quickly consume her anxiousness.
