What we can learn from the British Open

First appeared on July 21st, 2011
in The Lebanon Reporter

0 for 17. This had to be racing through Phil Mickelson’s mind Sunday while standing over a long Birdie put on hole number 6 of England’s Royal St. Georges. For his career Lefty had made 17 appearances in the British Open without hoisting a Claret Jug. But after the wind blew his hat off on the tee, and was already moving several balls around on the greens, Mickelson was able to make that put before draining a spectacular Eagle put on 7 to grab a share of the lead.
The stage appeared set for Phil to secure both history and his first jug. All the elements of high drama were present. A local professional and gallery favorite (Darren Clarke), a young gun looking to steal a Major (Dustin Johnson) and the man who always seems to flirt with contention (Mickelson). After going six under through his first ten holes, Lefty looked unstoppable. But when a hiccup at 11 (short par put lipped out) was followed by bogeys at 13, 15 and 16, Phil’s chances were gone with the wind. Literally.
Watching the British Open I was reminded of why I will never go to England. It is inarguably the bleakest place on Earth. Forecasting the weather there must be easy-“Today expect overcast skies, howling winds and a 100% chance for precipitation.”
When I think of Augusta it’s sunshine and chirping birds (both real and electronic). The U.S. Open will always be the beautiful Pacific coastline of Pebble Beach. As for the British however, the wind is inescapable. The incessant, typhoon-like wind that pounds the coastline, pounds golfers, pounds their approach shots and pounds their scorecards.
Forget the Claret Jug, the winner of the British Open should get a lifetime contract as a Hurricane correspondent for the Weather Channel. As with most Open courses, Royal St. Georges is a treeless, pockmarked landscape similar to the moon wrapped in Astroturf. Modern golf dates back 500 years and Sunday’s coverage could have just as easily been from that era, if not for Rickie Fowler’s Sunkist orange pantsuit and the sight of a nuclear reactor on the horizon. “It’s a subtle beauty” some will opine, but don’t listen to them for these are the same people who enjoy staring at empty parking lots or directly at the sun.
Anyway you cut it, England seems like a good place to leave behind. After all, it’s been almost 400 years and I’m fairly certain the Mayflower Pilgrims aren’t second guessing themselves. And what have the English really ever given us that we actually need or use? I mean besides our language and freedom of course.
Tea? Crumpets? Cricket? Soccer? The list of English contributions to society that Americans have ignored is seemingly endless. Sure one can point to the Beatles, but everyone knows if you throw enough stuff against the wall, something is bound to stick. That’s the fundamental principle this column was founded upon.
The argument could be made that Carrot Top or Ronald McDonald have contributed more to American society than England. But Sunday England, Northern Ireland rather, did give us something. A humble champion with an appreciation for suffering and sacrifice. 42 year old Darren Clarke, who had no top 20 finishes in 6 years, bagged his first Major Sunday.
In its 151 year history, the British Open has been taken 74 times by a player from England or the islands surrounding it. This tells us that not only is modern golf alive and well in its birthplace, but those who stayed behind on the rock have undoubtedly learned to play the wind.

© 2011 Eric Walker Williams