The Redemption Tour Starts in Houston: Why Waring and Woodland’s Opening Rounds Matter Far More Than You Think

There’s something happening at Memorial Park this week that goes beyond scoreboards and leaderboards. Two men who’ve battled genuine adversity—the kind that makes a missed putt feel trivial—opened the Houston Open in a way that reminded me why I’ve spent 35 years covering this game.

Paul Waring’s 7-under 63 and Gary Woodland’s 64 aren’t just good opening rounds. They’re punctuation marks on stories that deserve attention in an era when professional golf sometimes feels like it’s only about mega-contracts and franchise drama.

When Getting Back Matters More Than Getting Ahead

I’ve watched a lot of comebacks in my time around the tour. I caddied for Tom Lehman when he fought his way back from injuries. I’ve covered players who battled demons both visible and invisible. But what strikes me about these two is the specificity of their struggles and the quiet dignity of their response.

Woodland faced something that makes golf seem almost quaint by comparison. Brain surgery. PTSD. Last week he gave an emotional interview to Golf Channel where he opened up about his mental health journey. That takes courage. Real courage.

“I was crying going into the interview, and I left feeling a thousand pounds lighter,” Woodland said after birdies on his last two holes at Memorial Park for a 64.

And here he is, one week later, shooting 64 and sitting two shots back. In my experience, that’s not coincidence. Sometimes unburdening yourself—allowing yourself to be vulnerable—creates space for performance. The weight lifts, and suddenly you can swing freely again.

Waring’s journey has been different but equally grinding. After winning a strong field in Abu Dhabi to earn his PGA Tour card, he gets sidelined for five months with a shoulder injury that required cortisone shots. He arrives on the tour as a 42-year-old newcomer—which means no established relationships, no familiar caddies, no network of guys who’ve got your back. He misses the cut in his first three starts.

That would break most people. Instead, Thursday in Houston, Waring put together a bogey-free round and holed 160 feet of putts. Not 16 feet. Not 60 feet. 160 feet. That’s not luck; that’s a player who’s locked in, who’s bleeding confidence after a near-perfect day.

“This week, a lot tidier,” Waring said. “No bogeys and … I’ve just been told I holed over 160 foot of putts today, which is massive and gives you a massive advantage.”

The Real Stakes at Memorial Park

Let me put this in perspective: this is the final week for players to crack the top 50 in the world rankings and secure a Masters invitation. Pierceson Coody is sitting at No. 51, starting Friday outside the cut line. For guys like Waring, winning this week doesn’t just pad the bank account—it gets you into Augusta.

A 42-year-old Englishman who’s only played seven majors. Seven. Think about that. He’s spent his entire career knocking on the wrong door, grinding on the European Tour, and finally—finally—he gets his shot at the big stage. Then injury nearly takes it away. Now, one solid week could change his entire legacy in this game.

“All the work has been around what I did that couple years ago to get myself back in this place that I am now. So hopefully, I can build on this today. See how the week goes.”

That’s not desperation talking. That’s a professional who understands what’s at stake and refuses to overthink it.

The Cautionary Tale Nobody Wants

And then there’s Brooks Koepka, who turned what should have been a routine day at a public course he helped design into something resembling a comedy of errors. Double bogey on the seventh. Another double on the ninth after his ball spun back into the water. A third double on the 10th. He shot 75 and is essentially playing for his life to make the cut before the Masters.

In three decades covering this tour, I’ve learned that sometimes form disappears faster than it arrives. Koepka’s not done—he’s a champion too many times over—but that round is a reminder that even the elite can’t simply show up. You have to be present.

The Field Behind Them

Sam Burns, Michael Brennan, and Tom Hoge are all at 65, with Marco Penge (who tied for fourth at Innisbrook last week) in a larger group at 66. This isn’t a weak field chasing two guys. This is a legitimate tournament shaping up.

But the narrative this week belongs to Waring and Woodland. One fighting to stay healthy and prove he belongs at golf’s highest level. The other fighting his own mind while showing the tour that vulnerability and honesty aren’t weaknesses—they’re sometimes exactly what you need to get back to your best.

That’s the story that matters. That’s the one I’m following Friday.