British Open Championship Preview
LAST TIME, ON MAJOR CHAMPIONSHIP GOLF:
The Tour visited Torrey Pines, returning to the Pacific Ocean to look out on the most vicious major, serving as the backdrop to yet another classic.
Louis Oosthuizen, the greatest golfer of all time, looked poised to take his second biggie, and first win on American soil.
Until…
Jon Rahm sank dramatic birdie putts on Hole #71 and #72 to hoist the aptly named US Open Trophy.
Bryson crashed on the final nine like the waves below. Matthew Wolff made his return to the PGA stage with an exclamation point of a week. For much of the morning, every single top player was in contention - if you can think of the household name, they were probably within spitting distance.
NOW:
SAND FLIES, TAKING US FROM THE BEACHES OF SAN DIEGO TO THE POT BUNKERS OF SANDWICH.
FAIRWAYS TIGHTEN. RIDGES ON GREENS GROW INTO MOUNTAINS.
THE OMNIPOTENT CLOUDS OF ENGLAND CLENCH THEIR FISTS.
THE WIND WAILS AND WAILS. IT WHISPERS “SHORT GAME”
This is the Open Championship.
Where links golf runs wild. Where strokes gained off the tee and driving distance gives the right of way to creativity. Where you can hit 18 perfect approach shots and wind up with only 10 Greens In Regulation. Where irons and woods hand out bonuses, but where you are nothing without mastery of a wedge and the putter.
Where fresh faces like Jordan Spieth and Rory McIlroy have been lifted up. Where old fellas like Phil Mickelson and Henrik Stetson can go on a last magical ride before retirement, or the 2021 PGA Championship. Where for every favorite cashing a check, there’s a Shane Lowry coming out of nowhere to bring joy to all of Ireland.
Where early mornings are the norm for American fans, and late afternoons are vital for players from across the globe. Where every shot is a roller coaster ridden on a couch. Where no hole exists without the potential to lift you up or push you down.
This is the Open Championship.
In the Recap Article, Which Will I Say More Times?
Open Championship (-115)
The Open (+190)
British Open (+360)
Like clockwork, when we turn our calendars to July, the month known to golf fans as “The one where we see links,” a particular debate gets rekindled like the yule log in December: Is this tournament called “The Open,” “Open Championship, or “British Open?”
In this segment, I’ll lay out one pro and one con for each, and you’ll attentively read and make an informed decision. Let’s be rea; - you’ll have selective eyes and gloss over the con on your favorite and the pros on the other two, and crow how clearly superior your option is.
BRITISH OPEN:
PRO: Clarity. By reading this, I can clearly tell that the event I’m turning on is an open-qualifying battle, held in Great Britain
CON: British snobs will bite their thumb at you to represent their disapproval of your name for their precious golf tournament, like in Romeo and Juliet
OPEN CHAMPIONSHIP:
PRO: Drama. A golf tournament that isn’t just your run of the mill Open, but an Open CHAMPIONSHIP must be crucial.
CON: Very repetitive. What additional information do I learn from the word championship? That it’s not the quarterfinals?
THE OPEN:
PRO: Prestige. Just calling an event something as simple as “The Open” implies it is given such a straightforward name because everybody knows what you’re talking about when you utter it.
CON: The Open is what people should call the Waste Management Open, not the British Open Championship.
Can we meet in the middle and call it the British Open Championship?
Over/Under 3.5 majors before we hit “Rahm or the field?” Discussions
It’s hard not to remember what Jon Rahm did at Torrey in June. If somebody, most likely one of my fellow Ooststans, offered me $1,000,000 if I could erase the 2021 US Open from my brain, I would try quite hard for this seven-figure check, but probably fail. That’s how spectacular Rahm’s finish in San Diego was.
Now, even if the OWGR slightly favors Dustin Johnson, Rahm is clearly the best player in the world, as proven by his odds as the clear favorite every week he schedules a Thursday tee time. It doesn’t matter that Jon Rahm’s style isn’t totally linksian.
When, through a balanced game, with 14 clubs to assault a golf ball with, you are hands-down the best in the world, it doesn’t matter if the backdrop is St George’s, Winged Foot, or Minigolf Fantasyland. You can win any golf tournament you register for.
How many hours of programming will be filled with “Is Jordan Spieth an Open Championship or Masters golfer?”
O/U 19.5
The way I see it, there are two types of people in this world. Those who have 0 unopened emails, and those who have 300,000. I fall in the latter category.
Similarly, in golf, major players get divided into two sections - the Open Championship/Masters experts, and the PGA/USA victors.
This first category sums up the career of a player like CBS commentator/rambler Nick Faldo, who made up for his lack of relative length with spectacular finesse, be it via distance control or touch in the short game, on his way to 3 Opens and 3 Masters. (What is the plural of Masters? Masters-i? Masterseseses? Mattresses?)
The second group can better describe guys whose game is best far from the hole, beastly ball-strikers with complete rapport with their irons and woods. Brooks Koepka is a perfect example, a consecutive winner at the races for the Wanamaker and US Open Trophies.
Jordan Spieth may have a US Open win as well, but I view him firmly in the first box. He can be erratic with the driver, but more than makes up for it as he trots closer to the green, displaying polish in his short game that has everybody from Old Tom Morris to Young Tom Morris envious.
I can’t even get into which he’s better on: the soil of Augusta, GA or the UK. I’ll say it’s because “Comparison is the thief of joy,” but in actuality, I have no clue how to differentiate. I know this much - he’s in the mix every time he touches down across the Atlantic, with 4 Top 20s in his past 5 Opens. As a result, every time he plays an Open, or a Masters for that matter, he is legally required to be the first name that jumps in your head.
As we head into this pivotal week of a championship battle, as I stare at the 18-1 (5.555% implied chance) odds, as my ears consume so many different winning picks, my brain can’t help but label it all a waste of time, because it’s a foregone conclusion.
The Datagolf simulation being run in my head has taken place 100 times. Each and every one sees Jordan Spieth add a second Claret Jug to his trophy case, to follow 2017’s glory at Royal Birkdale.
It is so irrational to zero in on a particular golfer and convince yourself that it is a shock if they do not win. However, with Spieth’s magic from off and on the green, it feels impossible for him not to win.
No, you probably shouldn’t trust the predictions of someone who uses “feels like” like Connor McDavid relies on his stick.
$30 bet. You get a dollar for every event Bryson and his new caddie do together
“I want to unveil my new caddie,” Bryson stated about Brian Zeigler. If I only read the first six words, and omitted the final, you would think DeChambeau was “unveiling” a shiny new toy to show his friends, or maybe a fresh set of irons designed to perfection.
Bryson’s caddie situation is comical - his longtime bag-man Tim Tucker quit, but in true DeChambeau fashion, they “mutually agreed to part ways.” As a result, for the Rocket Mortgage Classic, he had to all but draw an assistant out of a hat, settling on driver manufacturer Cobra’s tour operations manager.
Now, Zeigler is the man tasked with keeping DeChambeau’s clubs clean. A former instructor in Dallas, he has now shifted to the role of Professional Fall Guy. Bryson hasn’t hesitated to blame everybody from the USGA to the media when the binary code inside his brain isn’t pleased with the outcome. So, he makes a brilliant decision to pay somebody to do all your course chores, plus act as the reason for your downfall at a tournament.
This is the thing about Bryson - he always brings intrigue to the table. In the Spieth Section™, I outlined the Open/Masters vs US/PGA golfer. The Mad Scientist is one of the strongest examples of the second group, with no Top 20 finishes at the other two.
As Sam Harrop sang in his brilliant cover “Turn Around Bryson,” golf isn’t science, it’s art. That is easy to understand on a links course like Royal St George’s, that asks hundreds of different questions over four days. Time and time again, when Bryson’s creativity gets questioned, when he must map out more than standard shots on “Drive, Approach, Putt,” he struggles, a big reason for why he stands out of the Top 100 on the PGA Tour in strokes gained around the green.
So, it seems implausible that Bryson wins the Claret Jug this week. So, why does he remain a gargantuan talking point? Well, there are three answers:
You can never count him out. I don’t think he has a limit to how far he can hammer a tiny ball. As a result, even if I think Bryson’s game is the opposite of a smooth fit for links golf, it won’t matter if he albatrosses every hole. I’m very much looking forward to seeing him score a 0 on a Par 3 to get there.
There is always some kind of juicy drama to read about while you savor his voyage to the first tee: The Masters brought Bryson back to Augusta, 5 months after he called it a Par 67 before missing the Top 30. Kiawah and Torrey Pines, the sites of the PGA Championship and US Open, acted as breeding grounds for for the rivalry known as Brooks/Bryson. Now, he’s got caddie drama leading into The Open British Championship?!
We’re honestly all just watching Bryson to see if his caddie dumps him before the American viewers/caffeine guzzlers pass out from exhaustion on Sunday afternoon
Will Rory McIlroy end the week with all of his clubs and headcovers intact?
Yes (-300)
No (+410)
You probably won’t believe me. Last week, at the Scottish Open, do you know what happened? Nevermind, you’ll never buy this. OK, fine, I’ll tell, but very quickly, because you won’t even trust this.
SomeSpectatorTookRory’sIronDuringHisRoundAndStartedSwingingWithIt
I knew you wouldn’t believe me! Well, guess what? There’s video evidence! You doubted me, but it was true all along. Thus, it is decreed that you must read the rest of this section, in which I go into what was going through this dude’s head throughout the heist, through an imaginary interview with his brain.
In case you hadn’t previously heard, during this section, I go into what was going through this dude’s head throughout the heist, through an imaginary interview with his brain. Follow along with the timestamps via the previously attached video.
(0:00) Oh, there’s US Open champion Jon Rahm! I bet the 2.25 million dollars he won at Torrey, which are probably in his pockets right now, sure slow down his hips while he’s trying to swing. Maybe he wants a spectator to approach him, and then he’ll give me the money! What will I do with the money? A new boat sounds amazing. 300,000 jackets could work do too. Unfortunately, I use pounds rather than $. It should be a real pain getting that converted…
(0:03) I’ve got this strange feeling that Johnny (that’s my nickname for my friend) put the dough in one of Rory’s head covers. Call it a hunch. Eenie meenie minie mo…
(0:05) It appears there’s no money in here. Rory must’ve already snagged the cash and deposited it into Poppy’s savings account. Rats! How could he do me like that and care about his own child more? Well, I’ll take this head cover with me. That’ll show him…
(0:07) Wow, nobody noticed. I’m honestly a little disappointed. I was hoping Rors would charge at me in a quest for his dog cover back, and I could show off the 9:10 mile I ran in college and leave this professional athlete in the dust. Well, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Let’s up the ante this time, and grab a club. This better work. I’m not a big McIlroy guy, but I don’t want to have to resort to yanking his cap off his head…
(0:09) I’ve done it again! Yanked an iron out of the Northern Irishman’s bag. No way they noticed. A master class in subtlety. Clooney, Pitt, Damon, call me when you need a 14th guy…
(0:13) I’m not 100% sure, they might just be checking out the clouds, checking the yardage, or commenting on how weird the new abrdn logo is, explaining why their faces are tilted this direction, but I think they noticed that I stole one of Rory’s clubs…
(0:16) Downed a few too many pints last night with the lads. On second thought, I don’t feel like running, even though my speed will certainly impress. They might invite me to run the 200m in Tokyo, and I don’t want to travel this summer anyways…
(0:18) Well, I’ve got the #1 player in the world as a captive audience. I better do something to keep his attention. I go to the driving range a couple of times a year (OK, fine. Once a year); why not try to blow away the top golfers in the world with your game? Royal St George’s isn’t that far away. When they give me the Open Championship invite, I’ll just have to fix my engine before the road trip to Sandwich…
(0:22) The trio just looked the other way! Either they’re collaborating with NBC to make sure they get some footage of my game on tape for their feature next week, or they forgot I made off with a 5 iron. A win-win. Wish they had the common courtesy to stick around and watch my tee shot though…
(0:27) Now, Rory’s caddie is glancing all around. He’s probably looking for a rules official to consult with them about me. I’ve never heard of a caddie being allowed to switch players midway through a round, so I might need to hand him the “I don’t think that’s allowed, rain check tomorrow?” rejection, but who knows? He has a family to support, so while I understand and appreciate his bond with Rory, he has to be cutthroat and jump ship to my side, the more lucrative one…
(0:31) Well, here goes nothing! My vision has been terrible ever since I did the Bleach Bucket Challenge to raise money to cure the common cold, so I’m not entirely sure if that’s a golf ball on the tee. Either way, I’ll hit it. Should I play aggressive and aim for the pin, or go conservative and hit it to three feet away? I’m not sure why more guys don’t try driving a Par 5, seems easy enough to me. Maybe that’s just because unlike them, I can drive the ball an entire 74.4 yards…
(0:35) Ooh, here’s the rules official! Does he want me to move back 30 yards and go off the Extra Dextra long tees? In that case, I might need a whole two strokes to reach the green, too bad. Can he drop off my Masters invitation here? I’d rather accept it now: if they send it in the mail, it might get tangled up with all of my online degrees and stock certificates from a fellow named Mernie Badoff…
(0:42) Is this how the officials treat all the other top players? I don’t know how JT, Schauffele, and all of my fellow elite golfers put up with this harassment, and big words like “trespassing” and “stealingaclubisnotokay”...
(0:48) I’m starting to think they don’t want me competing at this event. Oh well, they’ll probably forget about the 5-iron and its cover... Is there time to get to the John Deere Classic in the States in a tune-up for next week? Get me on the next flight to New York, and it should just be a short walk over to Illinois...
(0:50) After I finish reading Casey At Da Bat’s most recent article, which I really enjoyed, I’ll have to use the Internet to search up what this “restraining order” mumbo-jumbo that they kept muttering about means...
At Royal St George’s, In Sandwich, will there be more
Sandwiches served (-110)
Or
Sandwich jokes made (-110)
I wanted to spend this time evaluating the sandwiches at St George’s, but after a few minutes on Google, nothing came to light on the sandwich offerings in Sandwich. Given that my search turned up no results, there might simply not be food in Sandwich.
This could be a major storyline to look out for, affecting the entire framework of predictions on the Open Championship. Rather than consider who can golf the best, we must consider who can shoot the most strokes under par while starving. My money’s on Will Zalatoris, since I’m not sure if he eats to begin with.
While we resolve that situation (#GetSandwichesToSandwich2021), I’ll entertain you, along with the players and their empty bellies, with a countdown of the 3 worst sandwich jokes of all-time:
3. What’s the fastest sandwich to make? Usain BLT.
2. What’s a tasty kind of sandwich? Egg salad. What do you call a lettuce embryo? Salad egg
1. Why did Jimmy hand a stopwatch to a sandwich? He wanted to see Peanut Butter/Jelly Time.
Which Drought will end first?
English Football Soccer Major Tournament (-130)
English Open Champion (+105)
It may feel like a year ago, but just last weekend, Wembley Stadium hosted England/Italy in the Euro final, a championship match with bigger stakes/steaks than Black Angus. If England could win on their home soil, it would mark their first ever Euro win, and their return to the glory of the 1966 World Cup, generations ago.
In true England fashion, they failed. Like you’d expect the national team to, it wasn’t an uncompetitive 3-0 drubbing. Instead, they scored in the second minute, did nothing for the next two hours, and proceeded to lose the climactic (there isn’t an adjective that can sum this up. The best I can do is Loseyourentirefingernailbecauseyouchewedthemupable) penalty shootout by a single goal.
Less than two hours to the southeast, near the English Channel, lies Royal St George’s, some old golf course you probably haven’t read about, certainly not in this preview piece. The host of the Open Championship, it is another reminder of the lack of success that Englishmen have had in their home event over the last 30 years.
Since Michael Jordan completed his first three-peat and the Buffalo Bills put a bow on their only four game Super Bowl losing streak, two Northern Irishmen, two Irishmen, and a Scotsman have hoisted the Claret Jug. Now, as we approach the 30th anniversary of Nick Faldo’s repeat at Muirfield, more and more Brits grow up with no knowledge of a homeland hero.
This is a common theme in England:
Step 1: Create And Host Sporting Event
Step 2: Do Not Win Said Sporting Event.
Eight short years ago, Andy Murray broke the UK drought at Wimbledon, with his first of two wins near London. The crowd lost their minds. I can only begin to imagine what will occur if they can win the Euro, World Cup, or Open.
England and I used to not get along. I still had some weird residual Revolutionary War tribalism dynamic. I felt their food and weather were suboptimal. OK, fine, I was just jealous of their accents.
Now, I feel sympathy for their fans, and the eternity they’ve waited for international splendor. I want to see this country feel the thrill that sports bring out in all of us. I want to hear them roar like a proud parent as one of their countrymen strides down the final fairway, a major in hand.
Don’t worry, I’ll still chortle at all of the “It’s coming home” memes.
Enjoy the Open Championship. Savor the early mornings. Relish the late runs. Just take in links golf. Take in major golf. Eat up all of the unique hurdles and electric energy that they bring.
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