Loran - Smith
Loran
Over the weekend the 153rd Open Championship crowned Scottie Sheffler as Champion Golfer of the Year after his dominating performance at Royal Portrush in Northern Ireland.
With that we near the end of a flurry of major sporting events centered around Europe. It began with the tennis major, the French Open in May, and now there is just one left, with the Tour de France coming to a conclusion this week.
But for me, none quite match up to the history and reverence of The Open.
I was fortunate to land a media credential in 1978 when golf held The Open Championship at St. Andrews. The stunning landscape without blemish—no roadside trash and billboards in particular—was enrapturing. All Open venues have that constant although none surpasses St. Andrews. Portrush would be a close second.
The mass of people who descend on these villages without leaving a scar—nary a bad word is said either— as the entire community glories in the competition and the bountiful profit that makes the populace’s day. With the enterprising Scots, profit is acceptable, greed is not. Open aficionados save their money to find their way annually to passionately observe the world’s greatest golfers compete for the claret jug, one of the most prized trophies in all of sport. Win, and you get to take it home with you for a year. You can fill it with wine or whatever your preferred drink might be—toast your friends and neighbors and sing auld lang syne until your voice goes silent.
Winners are given a full-sized replica to keep and can purchase up to three smaller sizes. Just one of the many vignettes which make this grand old championship such a pleasant experience.
When the wind bristles, the competitors must work harder to make scores which will keep them in the hunt for the claret jug. There have been some surprise winners when the favorites have an off week as they sometimes do.
The most successful American player has been Tom Watson who grew up playing in the tough conditions that come with Kansas City’s sometimes harsh winter climate. The harder the wind blew, the better Wat- continued from page
son liked it. Surely that enhance his opportunity in the UK. He won The Open five times but had the most heart-breaking loss in 2009 at Turnberry when he was 59 years old and needed par on the final hole to become the oldest champion and tie Harry Vardon for the most Open titles at six.
His approach to the final hole was just a mite strong and rolled to the back of the green. His putt ended up eight feet short on the 72nd hole. He missed it and then lost to Stewart Cink in a four-hole playoff.
In his collection of claret jugs, there was that epic battle with Jack Nicklaus also at Turnberry in 1977 when Watson won by a stroke. It had to be difficult for Nicklaus, who had a penchant for coming from behind to overtake many would be major champions, to shoot 65-66 in the final two rounds and lose to Watson’s 65-65.
That was The Open which turned into match play the final two rounds between these two great champions. Watson had another memorable moment against Jack when he chipped in from off the green at No. 17 at Pebble Beach in 1982 to give him his only U. S. Open title while denying Nicklaus a record 5th U. S. title.
Their rivalry in those years was classic and was good for golf, and every year of the British championship you hear conversation about the “Duel in the Sun,” at Turnberry nearly a half century ago.
Open fans are knowledgeable about past glory, and they are keen about equipment and the ups and downs of the current stars, including the new faces making headlines in the world of golf.
Doesn’t matter what the results are each day, much of the fun of The Open is interaction with the people. The pubs are filled with doting fans who start saving this week for the 154th Open at Royal Birkdale in 2026.
The Open is classic wherever it is played, but Portrush is special and it again crowned a worthy champion.
