HALF BAKED

BETHESDA, Md. — Two days until the start of Tiger Woods’ Open, and Dennis Trixler is ready for his first challenge.

Bacon.

“I’ll get to the course in the morning, that great smell of crispy bacon will be in the air and I won’t be able to think about anything else,” he said.

Two days before Woods tees off at the Congressional Country Club here, trying to nail down the second piece of a golf Grand Slam . . . and a bigger question is this:

Will Dennis Trixler be able to play 18 holes without once leaving the course to eat off somebody’s barbecue?

“I just can’t help myself,” he said. “If I’m walking to my ball and I see a nice piece of chicken on a grill, I just have to go over and taste it.”

Or toss the fan’s salad. Or suggest a wine to accompany the lamb.

Before excusing himself to continue his game, Trixler sometimes asks if he can return afterward and cook dinner. While his playing partners will be thinking about shooting birdies, he will be thinking about marinating them.

Two days before the U.S. Open, and before writing about 10,000 words on how Woods can win his second consecutive major, it might be worth a few paragraphs on what he must endure.

The course will be incredibly tough.

Because it is an Open field, the competition will be incredibly weird.

Meet Dennis Trixler, the golfing gourmet.

He is a 39-year-old amateur chef and professional golfer.

In that order.

“I enjoy cooking more,” he said. “Golf is not, like, fun. You have to concentrate too hard. Fun, for me, is a tailgate party, with leg of lamb and twice-baked potatoes and. . . .”

He is producing a golf and cooking video that he hopes to turn into a TV series. He has cooked for many tour players in exchange for beds in their homes during tournaments. He once even threw a pregame meal for some of the Green Bay Packers.

Golf? Well, he has never won on the PGA tour, hasn’t even qualified to play the tour since 1993.

His country club in San Francisco still charges him monthly dues.

He has no clothing or equipment sponsors, and one motto.

“If it’s free, it’s for me, I’ll take three,” the San Mateo resident said.

So what will he be doing here this week, teeing off only one hour after the great Woods on Thursday in pursuit of this country’s greatest golf championship?

He’s playing because he won a qualifying tournament open to just about anyone who has a bag.

More than 7,000 golfers nationwide tried it. Only 63 made it, rounding out the field of 156.

That is what separates the U.S. Open from the two other majors in this country. That is its beauty, and its beast.

It is truly Everyman’s Tournament. The champion is truly our champion. In 1913, a caddie won.

There is also a chance that a guy like Trixler could get hot, get on national TV on Saturday . . . and while his partner is taking a second shot, cameras could capture him in the gallery, chowing down on a drumstick, advising a fan, “Why don’t you put a little lemon pepper on this?”

“I’ve always been an unusual guy,” he said.

Not that he is a bad golfer. He has won more than $500,000 in a variety of tournaments since turning pro 18 years ago.

He’s just a golfer who treats golf like, well, golf. Something to do when you’re not taking care of the really important things in life.

Like eating.

Although he carries only 160 pounds on his 5-foot-10 frame, he can never stop pondering the wonders of food.

“The minute I finish breakfast, I’m thinking about what I’m going to cook for dinner,” he said.

That can be a problem when, in between breakfast and dinner, there is a tournament to be played.

Perhaps the key to his qualifying victory last week at El Caballero Country Club in Tarzana was that he had three exquisitely prepared mesquite-smoked turkey breast sandwiches on sourdough with him.

While other pros may spend their tournament evenings working on putting, Trixler is out buying hibachis to use for hotel balcony barbecues.

“I must have bought 30 little grills all over the country,” he said. “Sometimes I do wonder what my game would be like if I thought only about golf.”

He has been thinking about other things since, as a child, he would skip school to watch “The Galloping Gourmet” on television.

By the time he was a teenager, he was cooking breakfast for his buddies, dinner for his parents.

“Plates heated, glasses chilled, bacon dried between two towels . . . “ he said. “The works.”

He has eight holes in one. He has qualified for the U.S. Open four other times and finished 50th in 1988.

“But nothing gives me the satisfaction of preparing a big meal for friends,” he said. “You can’t get that feeling with golf. Too many highs, too many lows, too much frustration.”

Those friends once included Packer quarterback Brett Favre, who knew Trixler from some small Mississippi tournaments. Favre brought some teammates to Trixler’s apartment for dinner the night before the Packers defeated the San Francisco 49ers in the playoffs after the 1995 season.

“Cracked crab,” Trixler said.

He remembers menus better than scores.

His lifetime highlight? A practice round with Jack Nicklaus and Greg Norman in 1989, one day after Nicklaus had stiffed him before another scheduled practice round.

His projected highlight this week? He says he’s playing well, says he thinks he has a chance to make the cut, surprise some people. But he is certain of only one thing.

“Free lunches,” he said. “I’ve already seen where they are giving us free lunches, and I can’t wait to see what they’ll be. Sandwich meats, maybe? A little prime rib?”