TROON, Scotland — It’s been almost 40 years since the debut of the musical “Chess,” and while it was ostensibly about, well, chess, and set mostly in Thailand, one lyric has currency at the 152nd Open on the dilapidated west coast of Scotland.
One night in Bangkok makes the hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
This might be the only time you’ll ever see Troon cross-referenced with Bangkok, but this week has been a pointed reminder of how capricious and cruel elite-level professional golf can be. Many players who arrived at Royal Troon in form have already departed, while some long thought washed up are still working. The young and studly are licking their wounds, the old and infirm are applying heating pads to loosen up for their weekend tee times.
Because links golf is seldom played, and the weather is more impactful than at any other major, it’s easy to write off results in golf’s oldest championship as anomalies, blips not reflective of the norm, a self-contained sideshow that lacks real meaning for the broader game. Players can have that luxury of compartmentalizing — and probably need it — but the decision-makers currently shaping the future of the game don’t, and they ought to be paying attention to what’s happening 4,000 miles east of Ponte Vedra Beach (and 3,000 east of Fenway).
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Because this Open is testament to the danger of constructing a product that’s rigged in favor of a small cohort of star players who then don’t actually deliver on the promise that’s been sold.
That’s the essence of sport, of course. Buying a ticket to a Lakers game doesn’t guarantee a fan will see LeBron James in full flight, nor even at all. But the odds are good that when the result is final, the star will be center stage. By comparison, golf is predictable only in its unpredictability.
A few things can be wagered on with certainty. Like Scottie Scheffler being in the mix, or Shane Lowry’s performance improving as the weather deteriorates, or John Daly missing the weekend (or going AWOL earlier in many cases). But the Open has showcased ample stories that seemed so improbable as the week began.
Take Daniel Brown, a little-known English professional whose 61st place finish at last week’s Genesis Scottish Open was his only made cut in more than four months. On Saturday, he played in the final group of a major — his first-ever major. Yet he showed up on Sky Sports’ set five hours before his tee time — evidence of a willingness to contribute, a lack of entitlement or a need to market himself, depending on your disposition. His countryman, Matt Wallace, missed the cut last week and during an emotional interview seemed about as low as a golfer can get. But he’s still here, and still working.
Matteo Manassero, the former child prodigy of European golf, who fell into an abyss that included stops on the Alps mini-tour, only to earn his way back to his first Open in a decade, is still just 31 years old. “Things also can turn around quickly,” the Italian said after making his first major cut since the 2016 U.S. Open.
Darren Clarke also hasn’t made a major cut since ’16, the last time the Open was at Royal Troon. But as Northern Ireland’s most celebrated golfer flew to Portugal for a vacation after missing the cut, Rory McIlroy’s former mentor is chugging along in his 32nd appearance. Clarke loves this event, but the 2011 champion confessed on Friday evening that 2025 might be his last, tempted to sign off at Royal Portrush, close to where he grew up.
“I know I’ve earned my spot in the field until I’m 60,” he said, “but I’d hate to think that I was stopping some 19 or 20-year-old lad from living his dream.”
Nor is Clarke the only regular from the geriatric circuit who survived the carnage of Troon. When Alex Cejka last appeared on the first page of a major leaderboard, George W. Bush still had two years left in the White House, while Padraig Harrington’s irrepressible love of the game keeps him working when most of his contemporaries left for the broadcast booth or the bar.
The walk-on actors are delivering their lines in this production. What of the leading men?
Ten of the top 20 players in the Official World Golf Ranking are gone, blown off course and out of town by the challenging conditions. Major winners, runners-up and contenders dispatched without ceremony, including DeChambeau. McIlroy. Aberg, Hovland and Woods. The PGA Tour could have filled a charter jet Friday night from the ranks of winners this season who are surplus to requirements in Scotland.
That potential passenger manifest ought to be read carefully by Jay Monahan and SSG group’s John Henry, who are ultimately responsible for shaping and financing the Tour’s future. Depth equals strength, not dilution. The capriciousness of golf needs to be embraced because it can’t be litigated away in a misguided attempt to engineer a sport around a handful of superstars — a questionable strategy anyway when fans suspect that many of them aren’t quite the charitable, puppy-loving good guys they were promised. The few guys who sell tickets — really a precious few — can’t be guaranteed a spot at the trophy ceremony unless you’re willing to thoroughly bastardize the concept of meritocracy. Some weeks (even some of the biggest weeks) just turn out to be more about the Davids than the Goliaths, and the best weeks are about both. This is one of the best.
If they want predictability in the product, only one man in the field at Royal Troon delivered it. John Daly was a WD, as he was at the PGA Championship, and numerous times previously. It’s been a dozen years since he last played the weekend in a major, 14 years since he finished inside the top 50, 19 since he broke the top 20, and 29 since he had a top 10. But even that show has only two years left to run.
