The British Open Championships

By: Jack O’leary
Posted: July 10, 2007

The Men…

It was the seventeenth day of October, in the Year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty that eight golfers showed up at the Prestwick Golf Club and played the 12-hole golf course three times in one day to decide the first British Open Championship.
This seems a bit odd, since popular folklore has it that a round of golf consisted of 18-holes because there were 18 drinks in a bottle of Scotch whiskey. Evidently, either the members at Prestwick were not very heavy drinkers, or the bottles of whiskey in the area were smaller than they were at St. Andrews. Regardless, Willie Park, Sr. topped the other seven entrants to win the first Open Championship with a 36-hole score of 174, two better than the favored Old Tom Morris. For his efforts, Park was awarded the “Challenge Belt” a red leather belt with a large silver buckle and decorations. There was no Claret Jug, nor was there any prize money.

Park would win again in 1863, the first year there was prize money, but he didn’t get any. He got the belt again while Old Tom, David Park and Andrew Strath who finished behind him split the 10-pound purse. Morris won the following year and he won the belt and six pounds. You don’t think he had some pull with the championship committee, do you?
Where’s the Claret Jug, you ask. It’s coming. Young Tom Morris, scion of the Old Tom Morris clan, ripped off three straight wins beginning in 1868. For some reason, the tournament committee had previously decided that should any golfer win the Open Championship three times in a row, he was awarded permanent possession of the belt. This caused a bit of a problem for the championship committee. They didn’t have a plan “B.” Therefore, when it came time for the 1871 Open Championship, they said, “wait until next year” and canceled the tournament to figure out what they wanted for a trophy and how they wanted to proceed in the future.

 Apparently, they figured out the flaw in the “win three in a row and keep the trophy” plan because it hasn’t happened again. For some strange reason, the committee couldn’t decide on what the trophy should be and almost blew the 1872 Open Championship as well. Two weeks before the Championship, they decided on the Claret Jug design and shelled out 30-pounds to have it made.

Young Tom won again and just received the cash because the Claret Jug wasn’t finished. Although, when they finally got around to awarding it to Tom Kidd in 1873, Young Tom Morris had already been inscribed as the first name on what has become a most prized trophy in all of golf.

The win in 1872, was Young Tom’s last Open Championship crown. In 1875, during an exhibition match, he was informed that both his child and wife had died during childbirth. Young Tom sunk into deep depression and a few months later, mysteriously died on Christmas Day at the age of 24. There are reports suggesting suicide, but his father was quoted as saying he died of a broken heart.

The Open Championship grew by leaps and bounds through the turn on the 20th century. Names like J.H. Taylor, Harry Vardon, Ted Wray and James Braid, who was also a tremendous golf course architect became part of the fabric and lore of the first 50 years of the Open Championship. Save for a five-year cessation of play from 1915 until 1920 due to World War I, the Open Championship had established itself in the minds of golfers around the world.

A decision was made by the Royal & Ancient in 1922 that truly established the identity of the championship. It was decreed that from that point onward, the Open Championship would be contested only on links golf courses and never again be played on a parkland course. Since mainland Great Britain, Ireland and a small part of Prince Edward Island in Canada are the only places on earth where true links land can be found.

With the exception of the 1951 Open Championship played at Royal Portrush in Northern Ireland, one of the finest links courses in the world in its own right, the Open Championship has been played along the coastline of mainland Great Britain ever since then.

The winner of the ’51 Open Championship was Max Faulkner, known almost as much for his quick wit, penchant for yellow golf shoes and outlandish outfits as he was for his golf. He was the last Brit to win the Open Championship until Tony Jacklin in 1969.  Faulkner was credited with one of the great acceptance speeches following a victory at a small local tournament.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “Big prize—big speech. Small prize—small speech. Thank you.” He then left the stage. You can bet that he gave the equivalent of a reading of War and Peace after doing the only thing he ever wanted to do—win the Open Championship.

One of the most charming and at the same time damning traits of a links course is the bounce of the ball. Great shots are cast into chaos. Wayward shots are thrown back to life by the one friendly golf god that visits way too few times.

In 1970, Doug Sanders had the Open Championship won. All he had to do was tap in a little three-foot putt on the 72nd hole and the flamboyant Georgian with the shortest swing in golf would be the Open Champion. Maybe it was standing in the shadows of the R&A itself at St. Andrews that electrified Sanders’ hands for one brief second. Then again, maybe it was just nerves. Regardless, he missed. As he found out, you don’t let Nicklaus off the hook and get away with it. Sanders got blasted in an 18-hole playoff the following day.

St. Andrews has always been the mythical home of golf. Both Nicklaus and Tiger Woods have been known to say that winning the Open Championship at St. Andrews greatly adds to the luster of the Claret Jug. If St. Andrews adds to the luster of being the Champion Golfer of the Year, which the Open Champion is called around the halls of the R&A, winning at Carnoustie, the site of the 2007 Open Championship should make the winner the “Surviving Golfer of the Year.”

Carnoustie has previously held six Open Championships beginning in 1931 when Tommy Armour took the title. It has been, since then, the most difficult venue that has hosted the Open Championship. It has also become in a strange fashion, the most mysterious.
Americans became aware of Carnoustie in 1953 when Ben Hogan literally sailed across the Atlantic to challenge for the Open Championship. The fact that American pros would have to sail to Europe greatly reduced the number of players who entered the Open Championship.

Not only that, but the Open Championship often was scheduled opposite the PGA Championship and often was played the week before or after. The combination resulted in little American participation.

The reason Hogan played was the PGA Championship was a match play event at the time. Hogan, who was still recovering from a near fatal car collision couldn’t walk what could possibly be 80-holes of golf in a week.

As usual, Hogan left any sense of jocularity in his locker and proceeded to dismantle the field, earning the sobriquet “the wee ice Mon.” Hogan left the love and adoration of the Scots as a tip for the clubhouse boys, went home and never returned to the Open Championship.

In 1975, Tom Watson won the first of his five Open Championships beating Australian Jack Newton in a playoff. It wasn’t long after that Newton, an excellent golfer who met life head on and totally embraced it, lost an arm when it hit the propeller of a private plane he was heading to board.

For a combination of reasons, Carnoustie was left off the Open Championship rota for 24-years. The facility changed hands, the course fell into some disrepair and it was felt that it could just be too demanding.

Any doubts about the latter were dashed in 1999. The best golfers in the world were thrown to the wayside by winds, water and the misery of the golf gods. With 18-holes remaining, one was left unscathed. He was the ultimate journeyman who on the 72nd hole became immortal in the annals of the Open Championship. He is Jean Van de Velde.
For 71 holes, the affable Frenchman was the Open Champion. All he had to do was make a double bogey six on the final hole and the Jug was his.

Inexplicably, Van de Velde hit a driver off the tee that he flared to the right. Instead of getting the ball back in play, he opted to hit a 2-iron that he again hit to the right. The ball careened off a grandstand into even deeper rough. His third was dumped into a burn. He dropped with a one-shot penalty, somehow got the ball on the green and two-putted for a triple bogey seven.

The ensuing four hole playoff between Van de Velde, local Scotsman, Paul Lawrie and American Justin Leonard went to the local and the Frenchman was left to live with the four worst words of all time—what might have been.

Ironically, Van de Velde returned to the 18th at Carnoustie a few months later to film a commercial for a putter company he endorsed. They had him play the hole with just his putter. You guessed it--he made a six.

As you watch the Open Championship this summer and the scene darkens as a cloud passes in the sun’s path, it may not be a cloud at all; it just might be the boys from Prestwick protecting their Championship.


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