There hasn’t exactly been a dearth of exciting golf in the lead up to next week’s Ryder Cup.  Last week was the women’s fifth and final major of the year, the Evian Championship, and this week there’s the climax of the PGATOUR season at East Lake golf club in Atlanta.  There, on Sunday, the Tour Championship winner will be crowned as well as the Fed-Ex Cup champion – a bit like crowning the winners of the Premiership title alongside the winners of the FA Cup.  The celebrations can get a little muddied and muddled.  To whom does the moment belong?

No muddy waters in sight at Evian where American Angela Stanford, in her 18th year on Tour, finally won her first major a couple of months shy of her 41st birthday.   As she herself said, she wasn’t really looking like pulling it off on this occasion.  She started the final round five shots behind leader Amy Olson and for much of the day she hung around a couple back.  That all changed on the 15th hole, however, when a brilliant 7-wood second shot set up an eagle three and she was tied for the lead.  And then she struck a chord with most of us watching.  We saw her react to the realisation that this was as close to a major title as she had been in 15 years – and she instantly double-bogeyed, dropping back to the slightly more comfortable position of being two behind.  But this is where we mere mortals cease to be able to identify with her.  She dug oh-so-deep, birdied the 17th and hit two stunning shots into the 18th, the most difficult hole on the course.  How her putt failed to drop is a mystery and she sank to her knees thinking this was a script she knew only too well.  But it wasn’t.  Thirty minutes later she was a major champion with Olson, still leading on the last by one, taking 6, and so missing out on a play-off.  Neither Mo Martin nor Sei Young Kim could birdie the last to match Stanford’s 12 under total.

The floodgates opened for the new champion as the intensity of her focus during competition dropped away and she realised that all those years and years of endeavour had culminated in one of golf’s greatest prizes.  Her backstory is revealing too.  Nine years ago her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and Angela and the family supported her through the worst, thrilled to see her return to full health.  However, earlier this year the bad news came that the cancer had returned and spread to the bones.  Only a couple of weeks ago her Mum was out at a tournament with Angela as she battles through the latest treatment.  Things are tough.

So, in light of all this, I was really, really annoyed with the great god that is television that they didn’t even afford Angela a minute or two to gather herself together before springing a live, winner’s interview on her.  I know that TV had possibly overrun their coverage and needed to get off air – but, come on!  This was thoughtless in the extreme and does anyone really want to see a person heaving with sobs and with an inability to form words or answer questions at that moment?  Two minutes would have been all she needed to get past that first rush of overwhelming can’t speak/can’t breathe moment and, articulate a person as Angela is, she could then have given so much more.  I found it insensitive, unnecessary and a very uncomfortable watch – certainly not the joyous interview that we all wanted.  But what a championship and what a winner!

My own Ryder Cup preparations are well underway – not sure about Patricia’s.  We are having a sisters’ week in Paris intending to take in a bit of shopping and a bit of sightseeing as well, of course, as three days of tramping around Le Golf National, a stone’s throw from Versailles.  We have bought a Ryder Cup travel pass each for 40 euros that for seven days allows us to hop on any bus, tram or train in and around Paris – it even works from as far out as Charles de Gaulle airport.  It is for this reason we are going sans voiture and therefore I needed an in-between-sized wheelie suitcase – bigger than a weekend one but smaller than my US travel luggage.  I found an ideal one in a multitude of colour options, finally plumping for the raspberry one, my thinking being I’d be less likely to leave it behind anywhere if it were brightly coloured.

This Ryder Cup is a work-free zone for us both – pretty blissful from my point of view when I consider that I have attended seven out of the last eight matches and have had some sort of working commitment at all of them.  Don’t get me wrong – I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every one of them.  The prospect of a week in Paris, however, without the stress of driving (and getting lost) round the Peripherique and without any responsibility to any broadcaster is very exciting.  As I see it, I only have three things to accomplish the whole week:-

1  Cheer Europe to victory.

2   Bring my shiny new raspberry case home with me.

3   Don’t lose Patricia.

Can’t be hard, can it?  Answers on a postcard………..

Tiger Woods

I never thought it possible for Tiger to get back to the level where he would genuinely compete again in majors.  At best I thought he might possibly have a decent run in one or two smaller events.  I never dreamt he would be the king of the course again, as he was this last week at the USPGA at Bellerive.  I never doubted him mentally.  I just thought it would be beyond him physically.  When will I learn?  Never say never.

When I first started working in the States in 2006, I did dozens of Tiger’s rounds.  I spent hours inside the ropes with him seeing what he had to deal with – the constant movement of thousands of fans wanting to touch him, make eye contact with him and the energetic rush, rush, rush to get in place to actually see him play.  His office was not a place of peace or calm tranquillity.  I didn’t like him much back then.  I always loved his golf game, but I too often witnessed his scornful treatment of good people, sound professional journalists.  Scorn is a terrible thing.  I interviewed him many times and he looked at you with barely concealed impatience (this was radio so no need to look interested) and it was obvious he was wishing to be elsewhere.  Fast forward a dozen years and the landscape of golf has changed quite considerably.  He has bred this new generation of young, strong, fearless golfers who can, now, occasionally, play like he used to all the time.  And, if anything, things have intensified even for him out on the course.  The roped-off corridors leading from green to tee are wider now to accommodate a forest of outstretched arms on each side all begging for a low five from their hero and in front of the thousands of faces are little black oblong screens – mobile phones are allowed on the courses now – snapping endless photos so that the owners can say, ” You remember Tiger finishing runner-up at Bellerive?  Well, I was there!”

Tiger, too, has changed – at least for the moment.  Let’s see if it lasts.  He has been on somewhat of a charm offensive on this latest comeback trail and there is a more mannerly edition in front of us now.  In the first round last week he opened with a truly remarkable level par 70.  I had wandered out to the range around 6.30 in the morning to see him warming up.  I was taken aback – he looked knackered and was already resting considerably between shots as the steamy temperatures were beginning to rise.  Then he started double bogey, bogey – 3 over after 2 – and he wasn’t moving well.  What transpired over the next four hours is one of the greatest exhibitions I’ve ever seen of playing the game.  It is an immense privilege to see a person pour every ounce of themselves into a task.  He played as if each stroke were his last, pouring in gallons of pure concentrated effort and focus.  They didn’t all work out – this was not Tiger at his imperious, ball-striking best.  He never looked back, though, just forward, just putting one foot in front of the other.  As the temperatures soared to the high 90s (Fahrenheit) and with the humidity rising (he changed shirts as many as three times) he clawed his way back, ultimately signing off with that level par score.

“Boy, that was a grind,” he said to me in response to my first interview question.  He was absolutely spent but he engaged with all his interviewers in a way that was new to me.  He looked at you as if you were a proper person and not just an inconvenience to him.  He was engaged and thoughtful in his answers.

By the end of the week he was the story of the week.  He didn’t win but the rock-star adulation and massive, massive crowds were for him and him alone.  As he strode from the final green across the elevated walkway to the recording area the chants of “Let’s go, Tiger, let’s go” rang out.  He turned and gave them a thumbs up.  It’s a thumbs up from me for Tiger, too.

Ricky Elliott

Who?  Ricky is Brooks Koepka’s Northern Irish caddy and the pair of them celebrated their fifth anniversary of working together last weekend by winning the 100th USPGA Championship.  Brooks has won three of the last seven majors and Ricky has been on the bag for each victory.  A talented player himself Ricky played college golf for the University of Toledo in Ohio after winning the Ulster Boys’ and Ulster Youths’ Championships back at home.  He dabbled a bit on mini-tours after turning pro but has found his niche as the bagman for the man currently playing the best golf in the world.  He hails from Portrush and still has family there – his parents live there – and his brother has a golf shop in Coleraine.  No shortage of a bed then when the Open rolls into town next July.  After his US Open win at Shinnecock in June I told Brooks that we all considered his win another notch on the Irish major list.  He seemed to find that hilarious – I don’t think he realised I wasn’t joking.  Now we have another to add to the list.  Rock on Ricky.

Adam Scott

Scott was in the final pairing on the last day and it was the first time for a long time that I had been assigned to one of his groups.  With only one top ten finish to his name for the season the tall Aussie with the elegant swing has remained unfailingly courteous and classy despite his ongoing on-course travails.  The week was very difficult for him with the news that his friend and fellow Australian professional, Jarrod Lyle, had died from leukemia at the age of 36.  It was uplifting to see him back in contention at the sharp end of a major and see his game stand up to the rigours of final round pressure.  I look forward to watching him make his way back up the world rankings.

Denis Pugh

I bumped in to Denis at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning as we were walking out to our starting points on the course for the resumption of play after thunderstorms had curtailed activities on the Friday.  I was continuing my second round coverage of Rory, Tiger and Justin Thomas and Denis was on his way to continue following one of the players he coaches, namely, the new Open champion, Francesco Molinari.  Denis has coached Francesco for years and I was thrilled to get the opportunity to congratulate him in person for what must surely be the pinnacle of his coaching career.  He revealed that once the final round at Carnoustie started he got in the car for the long drive home.  At the point that his charge won the Claret Jug Denis was filling up with petrol at a service station. He then sat down to enjoy a tuna baguette to give himself a moment to gather himself together before continuing his journey.  A few days later he joined Francesco and his family in the Bahamas for a few days and had a real celebration.  That night as he was tottering off to bed he asked the new champion where he was going to leave the trophy overnight.  “You take it to your room for the night,” said Francesco.  “And that,” said Denis triumphantly, “is how I got to sleep with the Claret Jug!”

I’m sure the dreams were sweet, Denis.

It’s been a little hectic recently……….but enjoyably so.  I’m here in St Louis, Missouri, for the 100th playing of the USPGA Championship, the final of the men’s four majors for 2018.  It was a bit of a dash from Lytham on Sunday, having watched Georgia Hall’s glorious victory at the Ricoh Women’s British Open and as I am also a little jet-lagged I thought I’d cheat a bit this week and do a bit of a pictorial diary of my last few days.  So, here we go……..a flavour of my last five days.

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This is a big week for a lot of people – players and their entourages; administators; referees; the town of Carnoustie; restaurants; hotels; guest houses; media.  The list goes on and on.  It could, of course, be life changing for someone – a first time major winner, for example.

One man pivotal to the success of the entire week, however, is Craig Boath, head greenkeeper at the Carnoustie Links. This is his third Open at the Angus course.  In 1999, that year of the unplayable rough, he was an apprentice;  then in 2007 he was assistant head greenkeeper; now he is the man at the helm.  Can you imagine the pressure of years of your work being under the microscope of the world’s finest exponents of the game, never mind television pictures being beamed all around the world to millions of viewers?

Don’t expect any tricking up of the links – Boath is proud of the fact that Carnoustie can, in his opinion, hold its own with the modern game, technological advances notwithstanding.  The course is actually slightly shorter than in 2007 and the fairways are not narrower.  In fact, at the 11th hole on the right hand side near the green there is a slight widening out of the fairway.  The intention is to have the greens running at between 10 and 10.5 on the stimpmeter, positively slow by Tour standards, but necessary on links courses where off-shore winds will cause the ball to move if the greens are cut any lower.  He has presented the course to highlight its strengths.  Thoughtful strategy is demanded to avoid the penal bunkers and it’s essential to recognise when to have a go and when to hang back and be a little more conservative.  Good shots are rewarded as much as they ever are on a fast-running links and, by and large, this week’s test favours a thoughtful player and a mindless grip-it-and-rip-it-down-there-as-far-as-you-can strategy is going to have to be tempered by sound thinking.  Phew – a proper golf course then and not even the teensiest bit tricked up.  Thank you, Craig and team.

Tuesday evening at The Open Championship can only mean one thing – the AGW (Association of Golf Writers)  dinner, one of my favourite nights of the year.  Patricia has been a member of the AGW for donkey’s years and I have ensured that I’ve been permanently on her guest list since I first worked for the BBC at the 1997 Open at Troon.  It’s a fun evening with the presentation of a Player of the (previous) Year and various other awards and there are normally a sprinkling of top players present.  They’re happy to be there not least because they are free to escape early and their presence is always much appreciated.

Last year the guest of honour was one of my favourites, Sergio, resplendent in his green Masters jacket.  It’s a great opportunity to have an informal chat and take some pics.  Alison Root, editor of the informative Women & Golf magazine and a huge Sergio fan, was determined to have her photo taken with the Spanish Masters champ.  I obliged and, if I say so myself, took rather a good pic.  It was then my turn and Alison took the photo.  I hadn’t the heart to tell her later but it was a disaster – she was obviously still shaking with excitement at her proximity to her idol and the resultant blurry image could have been of anyone!!

This year the AGW is celebrating its 80th birthday, having been founded by 30 scribes attending the 1938 Walker Cup at St Andrews.  Their stated aim was to “establish a close liaison with the governing bodies and promoters of golf” and a list of their past presidents makes for impressive reading with Bernard Darwin, Renton Laidlaw and Percy Huggins amongst their number.  As Patricia is back home in Cheshire looking after my husband, who is on the mend post elbow surgery, it fell to me to host her guests at the dinner – a very onerous duty indeed!  Ros Rentoul, captain of St Rule Golf Club in St Andrews, and I had played university golf against each other many years ago and hadn’t seen each other since but golf bridges all such divides with ease and I had a lovely evening getting to know her again.  Former Wales international Pam Valentine, now a member of the R&A Amateur Events Committee, fresh from a hole-in-one (her 4th) on ladies’ captain’s day at home in Wrexham, was with us and any evening in her company is a treat.

It was a treat for the three of us to see Segio, Ernie Els and John Paramor, esteemed Rules guru, be presented with their awards and another bonus that Gary Player, although endlessly entertaining, only spoke for three minutes!  He spent more time imparting his wisdom to Ernie’s nephew, Jovan Rebula, the newly crowned Amateur champion.

 

 

As usual, the Master of Ceremonies was the BBC’s excellent Iain Carter who moved the proceedings along with a swing including an entertaining little interview with Jean Van de Velde.  When Iain asked Jean did he often hark back to that 72nd hole in 1999 when he”only” needed a double bogey to win the Claret Jug, Jean replied with a wonderful Gallic shrug, “Well, no.

“Some people are destined to get their names on a trophy.  I got mine on a bridge!”