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The sunburned man with an FTX hat and a Topo Chico strawberry guava hard seltzer in each hand was disappointed. “He’s not naked,” he said to no one in particular, with open disgust. “No hog.”
Before him and 20,000 others in the stadium, a shirtless man had jumped from the stands and was sprinting toward the putting green. He front-flipped into a bunker and landed flat on his back, making a sand angel as the crowd roared. Then he darted between police and cacti, swinging his arms along the way to cajole the crowd to cheer more.