"Anytime I have ribs or torn cartilage I have to stop playing because the turn is so painful," he said.
"I couldn't imagine swinging a golf club for four hours."
The world's number 6 Brooke Henderson, a former hockey goalkeeper, was similarly impressed, saying, "I don't see how I could ever do that."
Kerr can't wrapping her upper body like a mummy in kinesiology tape, but that only treats her physical ailments. The emotional wounds are harder to protect. After Thursday's first round, as Kerr described the accident, she choked and tears in her eyes when she arrived at the play that she would be thrown out of the cart.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Maybe I shouldn't talk about it. I remember landing on my chest and it was awful. But I'm here and I played and I was hard today and I feel like I'm going to get better every day.
Friday tee times were pushed back in anticipation of a downpour, except scattered drops, to the end of Kerr's round. On the last fairway, she walked to the gallery ropes and exchanged umbrellas with her husband, Erik Stevens, who asked, "Are you okay?"
"No," replied Kerr.
He didn't really need to ask. Kerr & # 39; s unusual wildness of the tee over her last few holes telegraphed the pain in her torso flaring and her back tightening. Despite the inconvenience that prevented her from hitting through the ball at her usual speed, she played her last five holes in one under par. She birdied No. 8, her 17th hole.
"I'm proud of the way I hung out there," Kerr said afterwards. "Obviously I'm not happy with the way I hit him as I come in, but I know I don't have full control over that at the moment so I just have to be patient with myself."