If there were any questions about Justin Thomas, he answered them on Sunday at the PGA Championship

TULSA, Okla. — There are some distinct odors that float through the air on Sundays at major championships: cigar smoke, warm beer, mediocre barbecue and freshly cut grass among them. It can be an oddly comforting cocktail as a fan. But if you’re a player trying to win your first major, there is an aroma that is far more apparent.

It’s fear.

It was everywhere on Sunday at the PGA Championship. You could sense it as players stood over the ball, fussing and fidgeting, begging their brains to slow down. Drives that had previously been pummeled were now soaring miles from their intended target. Irons that, for three days, sounded crisp and pure were now clanking into creeks, flaring weakly into bunkers. Confident putting strokes were suddenly shaky. It was not beautiful, brash golf from the top of the leaderboard. To a man, each seemed desperate just to hang on, trying to suppress the nerves.

All except, of course, for Justin Thomas.

Every movement Thomas made on Sunday looked purposeful and deliberate. He slowed down his walk. He drank water like a sloth. He took measured, deep breaths, closing his eyes after he and caddie Jim “Bones” Mackay picked lines off the tee, retreating over and over into a quiet state of Zen.

“I hate to use a cliché, but he was as cool as a cucumber out there,” Mackay said. “All day.”

When it was all over — after Thomas completed one of the greatest comebacks in the history of major championships — he crouched next to the green and pulled the bill of his hat down over his eyes. It looked like he was trying not to cry, his shoulders heaving up and down. He’d just shot 67 to force a playoff with Will Zalatoris, then made birdie on two of the three holes in an aggregate playoff to win his second major. Thomas’ father, Mike, put his arm around his son, but words did not seem adequate or necessary.

What is there to say, after all, when…