PACIFIC PALISADES, Calif. — You and I will never know how it feels to contend in a U.S. Open; to look up at a leaderboard to see our last name with a “1” next to it. Solo leader.
Charley Hull knows how it feels, of course, but Charley is Charley. You never know what she’s going to think, what she’s going to say, what she’s going to do. She is fantastically unpredictable. So just steps off the 11th green, right after grabbing the solo lead for the first time all week, why wouldn’t she stop, mid-round, to sign a couple autographs? And moments later, when she saw her name atop the leaderboard, why didn’t eight under feel like enough on a windy day at the U.S. Open? Charley is Charley. She wanted to get to 10.
It doesn’t really matter that 10 under wasn’t in the cards, for Hull or anyone else. Or that the score she had at the time would have been plenty for a playoff. That’s not how she plays golf.
“If you always aim super, super high and you just come short, you’re still going to do really well, if you get what I mean,” Hull reasoned aloud Sunday night, maybe three hours after signing those flags while holding the solo lead.
“Like big expectations,” she continued. “If I’d have thought, ‘Oh, seven [under] is going to win,’ I’d probably finish five [under]. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”
Oh, we get it. The logic in there says a lot about Hull — how she plays this sport and how she lives her life. But it’s all a major reason why we tune in for it. She is, as the kids say, all gas, no brakes. Rope-hooks and recoils. She gets a bounce in her step when putts go in. She frowns at the hole when they don’t. On a tour where it can be difficult to find a fist pump, Hull’s bravado isn’t just welcomed — it’s sorely needed. Her Saturday mentality was two words long: “F—k it” — aiming at every flag with reckless aggression. And Sunday?
“Today was ‘F—k it’, pretty much,” she said. “Just go for it, you know what I mean?”
In that English Midlands accent, she rips through those five words.Youknowwhatimean?
Charley Hull is a treasure. pic.twitter.com/ukmDcMUhn3
— Sean Zak (@Sean_Zak) June 8, 2026
Hull admitted that the opening rounds of a tournament make her feels caged in, when the course is littered in threesomes and you’re supposed to be patient. But she busts out on the weekend, when there’s room to run and leaders to chase.
“I love playing golf like that,” she said.
And Charley, we love watching it.
At 30 years old, Hull’s stature in the game outweighs her victories. Her record is modest — three wins on the LPGA Tour, five in Europe, zero majors — but her way of being is captivating. You have to watch. When she hits a tee shot she likes, she barely watches it. It’s a race with no one to scoop her tee fast as possible. She struggles to find motivation in non-major weeks — when the stakes aren’t so great — an admission that will no doubt be tossed back at her until she wins one. But that’s the treat of Charley in contention. She tells you everything. Like three years ago, when she finished second at Pebble Beach and, instead of ‘F—k it’, had an even better north star: Shy girls don’t get sweets.
If anything, Hull is an epic counterbalance to the person who pipped her Sunday. When Nelly Korda says ‘F—k’ it’s only in a hushed voice after a bad drive. Hull says it gleefully in front of a mic. Korda is careful about how much golf she plays. Hull left Riviera for a three-day golf trip with her boyfriend. Korda was raised by two pro athletes and attended the IMG Academy, where pro careers are groomed. Hull quit school at 13 and turned pro at 16. Korda’s father, Petr, is very present, often hovering nervously in the crowd. Hull’s family doesn’t travel the world with her. Rather, it was just her cousin, Jodie, as her on-site kin this week, and the one who begged Charley to take her to Malibu. This being her first trip to Los Angeles, Jodie wanted to see if Malibu was just the way Hollywood portrayed it — beach bods and all. The way Charley retold the story created headlines, because of course it did.
On Saturday night, their sidequest required braving the traffic of Sunset Boulevard to have B-level Mexican food at a restaurant up on a hill with an A-plus view of the city. It was fully worth the journey, Jodie said. But about 24 hours later, the good vibes changed. Once Charley signed for a week-long tally of seven under, they watched the final groups finish out on a television in a back room of the clubhouse, hearing the tepid roar of Korda’s winning putt before it played out on the screen.
“It’s just,” cousin Jodie began, “you feel sick.”
That’s five second-place finishes for Hull in the majors, zero firsts. Charley called it frustrating and annoying, but has no plans to change her tantalizing approach. If anything, she said she may engage ‘F it’ mode even earlier next time. Her next chance to do it, and our next chance to revel in it, is just three weeks away.
