There is a quote from the wonderful movie Silver Linings Playbook when Bradley Cooper's character, Pat Solitano, a man with bipolar disorder, finally realises he has his life back on an even keel after a broken marriage threatens to topple him. "The world will break your heart 10 ways to Sunday, that's guaranteed, and I can't begin to explain that, or the craziness inside myself and everybody else, but guess what? Sunday is my favourite day again. I think of everything everyone did for me, and I feel like a very lucky guy."
Cooper's character grasps the bigger picture, he lands the girl and he heads off into the sunset with his future looking rosy. It is a feel-good slice of life. A bit like Phil Mickelson's Open win on Scotland's east coast after a hot and haggard Sunday of gusting possibilities.
When Mickelson walked off the 18th green at Muirfield, he had every right to think of himself as the luckiest guy in the world. And he would be right. Flanked by a sense of contentment and an exuberant wife and kids, Mickelson more than anybody should be allowed to revel in such a gilded moment.
It will not surface much in the weeks and months ahead, but Mickelson had to withdraw from the Open at Turnberry on the west coast of Scotland in 2009 when his wife Amy was diagnosed with early-stage breast cancer.
It was a tournament which Tom Watson would have won at the age of 59 but for a missed putt from eight feet on the 72nd hole. His fellow American Stewart Cink won their four-hole play-off to clasp the Claret Jug. The vagaries of life prevented Mickelson from competing that year.
"The game is important because it teaches you that there are rules that you have to live by," said Watson amid his shenanigans around Turnberry.
A man with a sense of tradition, much like Watson, Mickelson knows Scotland's role in the glorious game of golf. He realises what it means to have the Open tucked safely away in his career back catalogue. The man from California doused the feeling of what might have been with a sporting performance of the very highest order when the heat was enveloping him.
His rampaging run to the Claret Jug was one of the finest, most breathtaking sporting triumphs one is likely to witness this year.
Watching Mickelson, 43, clatter his ball around Muirfield truly was something to behold, better than getting high on any drug. Brave shot after brave shot, all of them played with intensity and thoughtful care yet delivered with a typical air of nonchalance, made Lefty a rightful winner of golf's oldest Major.
There can only be one victor at a Major golf tournament, but there were plenty of dreams scattered on the wind as Mickelson was making good on his potential to land his fifth biggie to accompany his three Masters and a US PGA.
The most notable loser was perhaps Lee Westwood. Westwood saw a two-stroke lead slip from his grasp as his day unravelled from a starting position of power. If Westwood ever wanted a lesson in how to win a Major, it could be unearthed in the audacity of Mickelson’s shot-making ahead of him. Just like it was at the Masters in 2010 when Mickelson could be found bending a ball around a tree on his way to snaring a third Green Jacket.
The only problem Westwood and those trying to crash through the ceiling of clenching a first Major face to their bosom is that perhaps only Tiger Woods in his pomp is as exciting to watch as Mickelson. Woods and Mickelson know how to get the job done, and when they see the winning line, nerves do not take the edge off them. Like Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer and Tom Watson, Mickelson is a fellow who knows how to carry himself in the moment.
Mickelson's touch of bravado on a golf course is similar only to watching Ronnie O'Sullivan play snooker, or Roger Federer excel in tennis. There are things these blokes can do in their respective sports that obey no laws of logic.
Westwood is a fine golfer, but he is no Mickelson. He is entering a stage of his career similar to that of Colin Montgomerie. At the age of 40, Westwood is hardly decrepit, but in golfing terms he is what one could describe as being on the clock. There is time for him to complete the mission in the Majors, but there may only be a dozen or so real possibilities left to alter his fate. Or who knows?
“He was beaten," said Montgomerie. "Lee can walk away with his head held high. He didn’t lose it. Phil won it. He’ll learn from the experience, and let us hope he can come back to win his first Major."
Westwood is the first man to finish in the top three at Majors eight times without winning one - but it is only nine years since Mickelson carried the moniker of best golfer without a Major alongside his lob wedges.
The similarities between Montgomerie and Westwood grow increasingly striking.
Monty has finished second five times in these frazzled events. Three times at the US Open, once at the Open and once at the US PGA. He lost in extra holes to Ernie Els at the 1994 US Open and in a play-off with Steve Elkington at the 1995 US PGA Championship.
Like Montgomerie, Westwood’s consistency can now be used as something to beat him over the head with. Third place at the US Open in 2008 was followed by thirds at the Open and US PGA a year later.
He finished second at the Masters and the Open in 2010, then there were third-place finishes at the US Open in 2011, the Masters in 2012 and the Open a year later. It is a formidable record, but there is no prize to go with place money. Millions earned would surely be traded in for these baubles.
Monty is best recalled for his second places in Majors and captaining a European Ryder Cup win over the US at Celtic Manor three years ago.
Westwood could be discovered on Tuesday talking about captaining the Ryder Cup team in future times.
Such an accolade would clearly set him apart from many blue-chip competitors, but Westwood must hope it does not become the silver lining of his career. Hope is maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
Clasping a silver medal remains nowhere really in golf's archives, but there is time yet for Westwood to take significant meaning from these slightly deranged Sunday finishes.