Golfers, to put it in team-sport perspective, are their own general managers.

They hire their own coaches and trainers, set their own schedules, test and choose their own equipment.

There are, of course, legions of advisers. But it's the player's call.

Rory McIlroy lit up the sport two weeks ago at the U.S. Open. Instead of spending the next few sleepless days doing the "Today" show and Letterman and Disney World and ringing the opening bell on Wall Street, he went home to Northern Ireland to quaff Guinness and escape.

Learning to say no: smart.

McIlroy's Euro-tour buddy Padraig Harrington won a British Open in 2007, and a British Open and PGA in 2008. Then he decided his mechanics weren't historically great enough, embarked on a "swing change," and has rarely been heard from since.

And let's not even start on the phrase "swing change" and the name Tiger Woods.

Learning to leave well enough alone: really smart.

Which brings us to Jim Furyk, Manheim Township High School's own, currently enduring perhaps the worst slump of his 18-year PGA Tour career.

Furyk toured Aronimink Golf Club in 77-71 in the first two rounds of the AT&T National here Thursday and Friday, missing the cut by five shots. It was the fourth straight cut he's missed.

"I don't really have a lot of answers," he said afterward, looking a bit stunned. "This is probably the worst stretch I've had, certainly going back to '95, which was my second year."

His 77 Thursday, on a par-70 course, was the third-worst score among the 115 players who completed round one. He hit just seven of 18 greens in regulation, made four bogeys in a five-hole stretch and double-bogeyed the nondescript par-4 18th.

Then he began Friday's round with a hooked drive that ended up in an awful lie in the rough against a tree root. The next shot ricocheted off the root and careened into a worse lie, leading to a double-bogey.

He was OK after that and actually quite good, 2-under par on his second nine, Aronimink's back side. He finished in a multiway tie for pack your stuff and go.

"I'm obviously very disappointed with the way I played," he said.

What makes this vexing is Furyk had arguably his best season a year ago, winning three tournaments, including the lucrative year-end Tour Championship. That won him the FedEx Cup, which amounts to the tour's playoff title. He was named tour Player of the Year by his peers.

He's won 16 times, including a U.S. Open. He's a player for whom a World Golf Hall of Fame argument is likely to eventually be made.

He's also, for what it's worth, a tinkerer.

Furyk's equipment deal with Srixon, a medium-sized company mostly known for its golf ball, ended last season.

He made a deal with Taylor Made that has him using that company's ball, but without the typical tour player's club deal, which requires the player to have at least 10 or 12 of the company's weapons in his bag.

"I spent a lot of time testing the golf ball and made that my priority," he told Golf Digest. "I've been able to make the other changes in my bag through the first half of the year at my own pace, finding just the right mix of clubs. It's what I wanted, and it's kind of empowering."

Maybe too empowering. Last year, Furyk used a set of irons Srixon had quit making because it didn't sell. This year he's had Taylor Made and Callaway irons in his bag at times.

Cleveland Golf recently bought Srixon, and a Cleveland rep approached Furyk Tuesday. The rep told him he'd see if they had any of Furyk's old irons lying around somewhere.

Furyk had Srixon irons in his bag here Thursday and Friday.

"Too much is being made of this," Furyk said Wednesday, perhaps referring to the following comment from "Anonymous Pro," a member of the "PGA Tour Confidential" panel whose discussions are transcribed in Sports Illustrated's "Golf Plus" edition:

"I'll never understand guys who have career years and switch equipment. When you make almost $15 million like Furyk did, why would you switch your ball, which to me is the one constant in your game? Jim has been changing irons and putters since then because his whole game has been disrupted. I mean, how much money do you need?"

To be fair, Furyk probably doesn't need the money. He's made nearly $50 million in tour earnings alone.

And he's done that while changing equipment a lot. He's been with Callaway and Spalding and Taylor Made and Bridgestone and others.

He changes putters almost as often as underwear, and in fact gave one away (a putter, not underwear) in disgust after Thursday's round.

"Made some kid's day," he said. "I've always looked at new things, new styles. I have the [putters] that I've had success with all together, and I kind of recycle through them."

Furyk is admittedly groping a bit right now. But he understandably doesn't want to blame his equipment and hasn't.

"It's tough for me to explain what I look for in a golf club to somebody who doesn't play golf for a living," he said Wednesday, then spending the next five minutes trying, talking about center of gravity and weight displacement and blades vs. cavity backs and eventually looping back to the blasted putter.

"It's a game within itself," he said of putting. "When you don't putt well, you put pressure on the rest of your game. You make some mistakes early, and then you're chasing your tail, making bad decisions trying to make up for it."

Furyk is 41 now, and his relationship with the media seems to have changed. He uses us to work out his thoughts and feelings by verbalizing them.

He was pontificating about putting to the media after Friday's round. This was after the questions had mostly died out and he was still going, searching for the right words and not finding them, gesturing silently at one point as if trying to extract something from himself.

But the cut was missed. A trip across the pond to the British Open beckoned. His wife stepped up and put her hand on his back, as if to say, OK, honey, time to go.

Mike Gross is assistant sports editor of the Sunday News. Email him at mgross@lnpnews.com.