HOYLAKE (England) — Golf is a game where a man might be hailed as a non-conformist for wearing a pair of khakis in an outré shade. Tournaments held on a weekly hamsterwheel can also blur into one another, like the revolving “family” partnerships between swindling influencers. It’s hard to find a sport that has a unique identity. One not influenced by the presenting sponsors or held hostage in a series of discommodious interview where CEOs promote everything from financial instruments to shaving foam as if it were a betterment for humanity. Major championships remain golf’s refuge in the midst of all this commercialization, homogenization, and politicization.
Each of the four big brands has a distinct character that is formed over many years and resistant to any branding concept that a marketer who is more ambitious than aware can dream up.
The Masters is all about perfection. In the presentation of the course and the choreography, the control over the broadcast, the nomenclature, which gives the week its unique language. The U.S. Open venerates challenge or, more accurately, difficulty – the desire to hold the world’s top golfers in a vice grip until they all surrender. The PGA Championship is the strongest argument against the Players Championship becoming a major, because players already have a major. It’s a tournament which prides itself in a setup that does not upset competitors.
And the Open? The Open is defined by many elements that make it the best championship in the sport. Why?
For starters, because of its history. The Open was founded three weeks before Abraham Lincoln became president, and since then every great golfer has made their mark.
It’s the original DNA of the game that evolved into a global sports, essentially unchanged in its pursuit of the unedible on wild contouring terrain set close to the sea.
The Open does not try to protect its players from the unpredictable nature of links golf. At least, it did not until the R&A softened the bunkers at Royal Liverpool. The best shots don’t guarantee good results, and even the worst shots can be saved by a lucky carom from a contour. It is important to embrace the vagaries of life.
It is a great way to test your imagination and execution, both of which are skills that many lack. You can forget the golf video games that are familiar to professional tour players, where the balls stop and drop with the precision of drones. The routes to the targets are found on the ground. This eliminates wind and navigation hazards. They would be useless even if rangefinders were allowed. Raw numbers at the Open are just as meaningless as in a Russian Election; it all depends on how you interpret them.
It offers a wide variety of options, which is the only thing that makes golf exciting. It encourages a huge variety of shotmaking, especially around the greens. There are no uniforms, so players can play to their strengths and weaknesses. The new test is a welcome upgrade to the standard tests that are so common on professional tours today.
The conversation Sunday night is not about how much honey there is in the prize pot, but what can be eaten from the Claret Jug.
It’s important to remind people that golf is a sport played outdoors, and rain is more likely than not. The other three majors take place in places and seasons that are prone to rain, often accompanied by lightning. This sends everyone into shelter. Rarely is there an Open where the wind blows in from the ocean, bringing nasty storms and destroying dreams. The Open is a major where golfers are expected to perform in any weather.
It serves as a reminder every year to golfers and superintendents around the globe that greens don’t have to be lush and full of flowers, and that brown does not equal decay. The motto for the 151st open — Forged in Nature — should be used as a guideline everywhere.
The Wright Brothers introduced an alternative vacation destination that was a delightful contrast between the reputation and reality of the area. Charmless seaside towns, which were once charming, have lost their luster since. St. Andrews may be the exception, but the Open always mixes the stuffy air and the faint smell of fish and chip on the wind.
The spectators. The British golf fan has been gradually deprived of top-tier golf as the European tour left for warmer pastures with despots dollars. But the Open is like Dover’s White Cliffs. At least, when pandemic insurance payments are not a priority. The crowds are always a delight, and the number of people in shorts is inversely related to the severity of the weather. They have a great appreciation for links golf and applaud shots that end far from the pin, because they know how good it is.
The characters that have characterized Opens in the past and present. Ivor Robson was a long-time first tee start whose bladder control belied his age. For four days in July, the world marveled at this. Peter Dawson, the retired R&A chief who summoned the Champion Golfer with the authority and vigor of an Arnie Army field marshal. Maurice Flitcroft was the notorious gatecrasher who gatecrashed Open qualification five times, despite being barred after his first attempt, in which he shot an impressive 121. (“Does this mean he has won it?” asked his mother to a reporter.) The gaggle of white-haired club members, with teeth that looked like tombstones and dandruff covering their lapels were seen from the clubhouse. They were bursting with pride, but also slightly irked by the interruption to their weekly G&T and four-ball.
The Open is made up of these inseparable elements, which each contribute to the potpourri that encompasses everything that makes it the greatest golf championship. This list has been largely unchanged over the past century and a half that they have played this event. It’s a list that has remained largely unchanged for most of the century-and-a half they have been playing this thing.
