Berry Henson was asked to describe his journey in golf.
“We might be here all day,” he cracked.
How many obscure tours has he played?
Henson, 43, took a deep breath and started in. The Golden State Tour, Pepsi Tour, eGolf Tour, Hooters Tour, Canadian Tour, National Pro Tour, European Tour and Challenge Tour. And the Asian Tour, Japan Tour and Korean Tour. And something called the Sunshine Tour.
“Yeah,” the University of San Diego alum said, “I guess that’s the definition of a journeyman.”
The next morning, he tweeted: “I ed a few more last night. Was supposed to be in Thailand this week playing a Trust Golf mixed event.”
It just keeps going with Henson, one of the oldest and most improbable qualifiers for the 123rd U.S. Open this week at Los Angeles Country Club, a man with a receding hairline and ascending game. Since a wrist injury temporarily sidelined him in 2016, he’s also been a part-time Uber driver.
In a way, it fits. LACC is bisected by Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly Hills, a driver and wedge from Hollywood. Or — take your pick — a short Uber ride.
The Hensonator.
He spends nine months a year in Thailand, where he is based for the Asian Tour and various other events you’ve never heard of. When he returns to the States and his hometown in Palm Desert, he enrolls in a program allowing him to drive rental cars for Uber (he has 3,000 rides and a 4.99 rating). He talked about giving rides in Los Angeles between U.S. Open rounds … until he learned that all qualifiers get use of a Lexus courtesy car for the week.
“You know,” Henson said Monday in the U.S. Open media interview area, “I think my No. 1 goal this week is to stay humble.”
Henson played golf at Palm Desert High School and was an average golfer on an average USD team in the early 2000s under coach Frank Cates. His teammates graduated, got real jobs and transitioned into life away from the course, and Henson figured he would do the same until family and friends suggested he give pro golf a shot.
“He was one of those athletes who just loved the sport,” said Geoff Leibl, an immigration attorney in San Diego who was an USD assistant golf coach in the early 2000s. “And you can tell now, right? He’s still grinding at 43. He was always great to be around. I was there for six or seven years, and he was one of my favorites. He was always just happy to be at the golf course.
“He wasn’t the top guy we had, but he just loved it. And in golf, you just have to keep pushing forward. You don’t peak at 21 or 22. Am I’m surprised he’s playing in the U.S. Open? Maybe a little bit. But he loved the sport, so why wouldn’t you keep going?”
Henson didn’t come from a wealthy family, relying on a job at Marriott’s Shadow Ridge course in Palm Desert and the financial of sponsors to chase a PGA Tour card through Q School. He tried seven times. Failed seven times.
It was 2011. He was 31, eight years out of college, still working at Shadow Ridge (he has a 15-year employee pin to prove it), and all of his sponsors ran dry except one. He had $5,000 left, shrugged and headed to Thailand for the Asian Tour’s qualifying school.
“I’m like, well, we’ve got to get a card somewhere,” Henson said. “It was sink or swim.”
A month later, he went wire-to-wire to win by seven strokes at the Clearwater Masters in Malaysia. Two weeks later, he won the Philippine Open at Wack Wack Golf and Country Club outside Manila.
“A lot of people told me that I couldn’t make it,” he said. “They said I’m not good enough, and I’ve had that a lot as a young kid. I think that put a fire in my belly. That just made me work harder. … Everybody that knows me knows I’ve done everything I possibly can to become a professional golfer, stay a professional golfer, make money at doing this.”
He’s made decent money in Asia and wherever else he can play, usually in the low five figures with 28 top 10-finishes. His last win came nearly a decade ago, but he hit his biggest payday ($173,000) by finishing second at International Series Oman in February.
He might have won had he not hooked his approach at the par-5 16th over a sand dune onto the edge of a highway, playing off the dirt shoulder next to a parked pickup truck. He chipped over the 20-foot sand dune onto the green, then three-putted for bogey. He posted the video on Twitter with the message: “For your viewing pleasure lol.”
https://twitter.com/BerryHenson/status/1624412737563512833The Hensonator. Never a dull moment.
But the second place at Oman was enough to elevate him into the top 500 of the world rankings (his all-time high is 296 in January 2019), getting him an exemption from the first round of U.S. Open qualifying. That advanced him directly to the finals, a grueling 36-hole odyssey played at multiple courses across the country on a single Monday the week before the Open.
There was a qualifier in Los Angeles. He chose Canoe Brook Country Club in Summit, N.J., because he reasoned the course suited his short game better (“I can get up-and-down from the trash can”). And indeed, after double-bogeying in the first hole, he played the ensuing 35 in 9-under-par after twice chipping in and twice draining 30-foot putts — inspired by the memory of his mother, who died in March after battling dementia.
That got him one of four spots in the Open from the Canoe Brook sectional after, well, he’s lost court how many times he’s tried to qualify. He thinks it might be 14, maybe 15.
Suddenly, he’s posting Twitter videos of him arriving at LACC with his arms raised triumphantly, of his personalized locker, of getting a haircut from the official U.S. Open barber. He’s playing practice rounds with Phil Mickelson. He’s getting a call from Uber and adding the company’s logo to the collar of his golf shirt this week. He’s in the first group off the 10th tee on Thursday morning.
“I told myself in college, ‘Hey, if I’m not seeing improvement in my game, I’m going to do something else,” said Henson, currently ranked No. 444 in the world. “But every year I just seem to get a little bit better, a little bit better, a little bit better, and yeah, we’re here at 43, playing my first major championship.
“I feel like, yeah, I’m kind of starting my journey. I don’t know, it sounds weird, 43, starting your journey, but I’ve never given up. I’ve always tried to get 1 percent better. … That’s the road I’m on right now, and it just happened a little bit later, and we’re just going to keep going until I can’t go anymore.”
