In 1985, Golf Digest contributor Tom Callahan, in his guise as the sports guy for Time Magazine, wrote a profile of Boston Celtics legend Larry Bird and Edmonton Oiler Wayne Gretzky. In the piece, Callahan told the remarkable tale of how both men, when shown a picture from the previous night’s game, could relate where the ball/puck and every other player was at that moment, where they had just been and where they were about to go.

Well, Nick Faldo can do that too. Mostly. On the eve of his hosting of this week’s Betfred British Masters, the six-time major champion’s attention was drawn to a photograph of himself on the wall. “Royal Birkdale 1983” came the reply. “I was leading the Open with nine holes to play and blew up. That was one of the big reasons why I decided to change my swing. That guy wasn’t going to win six majors.”

Faldo’s trip down memory lane was appropriate given where he is this week. The soon-to-be 66-year-old and The Belfry go back 45 years. Long before Faldo would play in three Ryder Cups in the English Midlands, he was part of the Great Britain & Ireland team that took on the Continent of Europe in something called the Hennessy Cup. Playing Seve Ballesteros, Faldo witnessed first-hand the historic moment when the Spaniard—armed with a persimmon driver and a balata ball—drove the green at the 311-yard 10th hole.

Today a plaque marks that spot, not far from another. On The Belfry’s 14th tee a marker records the fact that, using a 6-iron, Faldo made an ace during the 1993 Ryder Cup matches.

All of which got the man who was World No. 1 for 97 weeks marching further down recollection road. Yes, his game is suffering from what looked like terminal neglect—the turn isn’t quite as full and the backswing definitely not as long—over the nine holes he played in the pre-tournament pro-am. But no matter. Almost a year after his retirement from commentating on CBS and more than 20 summers since he played regularly on the PGA Tour, the last Englishman to win the Open Championship was just getting going.

“I’m fortunate,” he says of a playing career that boasted over 40 victories worldwide. “I’m not carrying any scars. I did miss out on a couple of U.S. Opens. And I’ve hit the odd bad shot here and there. But nothing is really bugging me. I came close to throwing the Open away at Muirfield in 1992. I had a four-shot lead, lost it, and then got it back. That would have lived on in my head had I lost that day. It must be a horrible thing to carry in your mind. I think Jean van de Velde must wake up in the night screaming. He has to.

“His situation is interesting though. If you know you have to make, say, a 3-to-tie, you immediately have a picture of that in your mind. But how do you picture making a 6 to win? I can’t see that one. Which makes it tricky and interesting psychologically. Maybe you should always think ‘3 to win’ no matter what. That gives you a focus. Hitting shots without that is asking for trouble, as Jean showed.”

Pressed to compare the style of play when he was at the pinnacle of golf and the power-dominated game on display these days, Faldo wasn’t slow to emphasize the nuance and subtlety of his approach. Often enough labelled “robotic,” he was actually anything but.

Nick Faldo holds the trophy after winning the 1990 Open Championship at the Old Course at St Andrews. David Cannon

“Nick is a perfectionist,” points out his former caddie, Fanny Sunesson. “He was so focused. There wasn’t a part of the game where he was weak. But his distance control always stood out. He was so good with that. And that made him really strong on difficult courses. His half-shot was amazing. He was so good at eliminating spin, which requires so much feel and he had so much of that. He could hit so many different shots using a balata ball and the old clubs. And he was great in the wind.”

In turn, Faldo wasn’t denying the love of control he brought to the game en route to his three Masters titles and three Open wins.

“Back in the day, Fanny and I were working to a yard with the wedges,” he says. “She would put a ball down every yard and I would try to hit them. On a good day, I’d be plus or minus a yard on almost every shot. It was a great feeling to hit one 99, then the next 100, and then one after that 101. With enough practice, you get that good.

“I don’t think you can do that with the modern ball. I spoke to Bryson [DeChambeau] three years ago. He told me he couldn’t feel a wedge shot within 10 yards. I can’t either with the balls they use now. It is just so difficult to ‘call a number’ with a wedge now. Which is the reason behind some of [Rory McIlroy’s] issues. He might be better to sacrifice 20 yards with the driver and use a ball he can really trust.”

And he laments the shift in emphasis in today’s game at the elite level. Distance control has given way to a simple search for pure distance.

“I stand on the range watching guys hit balls and I see 15-20-yard differences in where they are landing,” says Faldo. “That would have driven me nuts. I was never robotic though. I used to hit little fades and draws all the time. I had the hold-off. I had the chicken wing. I had the bunt. And I had the rotate. I don’t see that level of subtlety anymore. But the ball doesn’t help. I remember Lee Trevino saying he tried to keep the ball on the clubface for a foot of his swing. That was his feeling. Now it’s the opposite. Now they want to keep the ball on the face for a millisecond and explode off the clubface.”

Moving right along, Faldo, like everyone else with even a passing interest in the game, has watched as the LIV Golf saga has unfolded. Previously on record as describing the LIV Golf League as “meaningless,” he now subscribes to the common view that there are many decisions ahead before a final resolution can be reached.

“I stand by what I said already,” he maintains. “I wouldn’t want to play it. I honestly don’t think 54 holes feel like real golf. Going to the first tee in a London taxi. Then you’ve got somebody on a violin before you tee off. I’m not sure that would have been Faldo back in the day. To be honest there’s only half a dozen [players] who are current. You don’t really know half the field who are there because it’s very nice last-place money. If you shoot 20 over you still get that rather than going home. So nothing feels competitive. I think they all suffer with the atmosphere, and you have to tell the players that only 20,000 people saw them. People would rather watch Penn and Teller doing magic tricks.”

Nick Faldo on the 10th hole during the pro-am prior to the British Masters at The Belfry in England. Ross Kinnaird

Then there is how the DP World Tour handles the possible return of renegades like Ian Poulter, Henrik Stenson and Sergio Garcia. Each case, says Faldo, is different, depending on the attitude and public utterances of each player.

“There will be guys who went to LIV for nothing, how much can you find them?” he asks. “Then there’s the guy who was paid $100 million. It will depend too on how much they have spoken out. There have been some seriously different attitudes. I shook my head when I heard Sergio saying he was finally being paid what he is worth. Which is a bit rich when no one really cares about the results of the LIV tour.

“I look at it this way: ‘OK, you went to your little bubble but the little bubble didn’t quite turn out the way you expected. It just wasn’t as big as you thought it was going to be.’ I can’t believe they get much satisfaction out of playing in those LIV events.”

Inevitably, the conversation turned to the Ryder Cup, an event where Faldo won 25 points in his career, in addition to his admittedly controversial captaining of the losing European squad in 2008. Scorning any suggestion that the event needs a close result after a series of blowouts on both sides, he will be rooting strongly for an Old World victory in Italy come September.

“I have to go for Europe,” he predicts. “I really like the character of the team. We have a backbone of eight, maybe nine. And three of those—McIlroy, [Jon] Rahm and [Viktor] Hovland—are really outstanding. Tyrrell [Hatton] can play. So can [Shane] Lowry. So can [Tommy] Fleetwood. Throw in [Matt] Fitzpatrick too, although he has had a rough time with match play. He’s a better player now than he was even two years ago though. On top of all that, give me one rookie who gets 2 points and they are going to be really hard to beat.”

Speaking of which, Faldo was finally able to identify one big regret from his playing career. The premature death of his great rival, Ballesteros, robbed the pair of a friendship that was in its infancy and what could have been an opportunity to hit the road together.

“The hug I got from Seve behind the 18th green at Oak Hill at the end of the 1995 Ryder Cup is still one of the best moments of my career,” says Faldo. “Thinking of it still makes me cry. Imagine me and Seve playing exhibition matches in our mid-60s. We’d take anyone on, after negotiating how many shots we would get and which tees we would play from of course. It would be hilarious. We would have been booked every week. So that is my only regret. When we played the Seve Trophy he came to me and said we had to be friends after being such fierce competitors. He told me he was going to send me a ham. But he never did. He is such a loss to the game.”

The same could be said of the retired Faldo.

“Look at Nick’s record,” points out 2013 U.S. Open champion Justin Rose. “It is unbelievable. I’ve always had aspirations to be as good as he was and I haven’t managed it yet. So I know how tough it is to do what he did. He committed his life to the game, which is even more impressive. Nick’s work ethic is the standard everyone aims for.”

The post Nick Faldo reminisces about the Open, Ryder Cup and Seve as he’s set to host British Masters appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

More than any other player in history, Tiger Woods at his peak refuted the adage that no golfer gets it all. The image of that once-supreme completist from the century’s first decade remains indelible and continues to magnify light onto every part of the game — especially the elements that constitute greatness.

Those who can perceive and convey that last piece with the most precision are the elders in an ultra-exclusive fraternity that includes Woods as a junior member. So as Tiger embarked on his latest comeback — begun remarkably free of back pain and with correspondingly surprising success at the Hero World Challenge — Golf Digest sat down with five of the best: Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player, Lee Trevino, Johnny Miller and Nick Faldo.

All are multiple major winners — collectively their total is 41, the inverse of Woods’ 14. All are essentially retired from competition yet remain avidly connected to the current scene. All are close students of a figure who has transcended and brought scrupulous attention to the game they once mastered.

For them, Woods is both an illuminating prism and a mirror.

Our idea was to exploit a premise that has proved reliable since Woods first came to world renown as an amateur in the mid-1990s: The better the player, the better the take on Tiger.

To varying degrees, each Hall of Famer possessed some or even all of Woods’ myriad qualities and strengths. But to allow the interviews to form a more coordinated whole, the subject matter for each former player focused on the area he most closely compared with Woods.

With Nicklaus, it was the uncanny ability for making it happen. For Player, an indefatigable self-belief. For Trevino, an undying obsession for the game. For Miller, a nearly identical crucial head start as a youth. For Faldo, a relentless focus on majors.

The individual framing allowed each of our sages to pull from personal experience and observation. The result is wisdom and insight about what it takes to reach the very highest levels of golf — and through a more intimate understanding of five all-timers, a more refined appreciation of Woods.

Greatness in golf will remain fascinating and mysterious. The current question: When, if ever, will Tiger, now 42, achieve the kind of late-career climax — Nicklaus’ 1986 Masters at 46 the epitome — that provides each of our five elders such an enduring satisfaction? As 2018 develops, they’ll retain the most interest and empathy as a renewed Tiger — still very much a completist — chases his missing pieces.

NICK FALDO: The Journey to Thursday Morning

Tiger and I were similar in that we could almost be in the zone for four days. I had this ability to focus on golf. You hear the psychologists say you should bounce around, but I didn’t. Sometimes Fanny [caddie Sunesson] would go off on a subject, and I used to drag her back: “No, no, no. Just keep talking golf.”

The preparation time between majors is vital, and this is where I think Tiger was absolutely phenomenal. It’s the journey getting to Thursday morning of the US Open or whatever, and if you’re really smart and know more about the game, it starts the week before or two weeks before or, in the case of the Masters, months before. But you’ve got to start well, to be absolutely ready for Thursday morning. I remember reading that Arnold Palmer said he would take the intensity of 17 and 18 on Sunday of a major and bring that to Thursday. And that was a little jolt to me. I used to say to myself in the majors: Every shot is history on Thursday as well, so don’t waste them.

With Tiger, I think of the opening nine holes when he shot 40 at the 1997 Masters. [Faldo, the defending champion, was his playing partner in the first two rounds of Woods’ 12-stroke victory.] I wonder if that was one of his epiphanies where he said: ‘I’m never going to do that again. I’m never going to set myself up to get that far down. I’m going to find a way to prepare.’ And I think that’s what he did so brilliantly. How he could go out, win a tournament, disappear for three weeks and come back out in a major, and there was no wastage of shots or sloppiness. And the number of times you would say, How does he come out holing every putt?

Tiger knew he was different. Special. He hit a golf ball differently — full stop — than anybody else. Nobody could drive it like him, nobody could hit long irons like him, or the wedges and the putter. There wasn’t anybody ever who was that good in every department. And then he’d believe he was better prepared for Thursday than anyone else, and it became a pattern.

It’s true in other sports. With Tom Brady, I tune in to make sure I watch his first possession. I love Formula One racing. How come these guys will all qualify within tenths of a second, and then on the first lap of the race, Lewis Hamilton will be a full second ahead of everybody?

I birdied a lot of opening holes at the Open Championship. You psych yourself all week, and you visualise it, seeing yourself knock it out there, on the green, in, and off you go. Whereas some people stand up on the first tee, and they can’t see the fairway.

I’d like to do some of my career differently. I made mistakes working too hard at tournaments. I know I wore myself out, wore out my golfing batteries. But I said to myself, I don’t want to get to 45 and regret that I didn’t try hard enough. Because I know some golfers, I watched them get into their 40s, and they were lazy. And suddenly it’s gone. You’re an athlete given a window of opportunity. And while you’ve got your nerve, you’d better make the most of it. Because once your nerve starts to go, you ain’t getting that one back.

That last round at the 1996 Masters [overcoming Greg Norman’s six-stroke lead] was the best round mentally I ever had. The swing wasn’t quite right, and I had to mentally push myself through each shot. I would think to myself: ‘Are the wheels coming off?’ And I had to yell at myself: ‘No, they’re not! Come on, what are we going to do? OK, hit it, land it there, piece it together,’ and I’m going to do this in the swing, because I know if I do this, I’ll hang on to it. I had a little checklist I had to go through. I’d lost that 100 per cent self-belief, or whatever the percentage is where you’re Superman. Once it gets chinks, it becomes: ‘Oh, I got away with it.’ And then one day, you say all those things to yourself, and twang! — it goes sideways. And that’s the day when you go: ‘Oh, blimey.’

To go to a major with the intention of winning it and doing it, that gives me the greatest pride. I did that in three of them [1990 at the Masters and St Andrews, and 1992 at Muirfield were among Faldo’s six major victories]. With Tiger, I don’t know if he’s done 14 with the intention quite like that. It gives you that sense of power. You definitely feel everybody must be looking at you. The way you act probably [annoys] a lot of the players — has to. Because I’m sure that’s when you’re at your rudest. Because you’re so focused, you’re so engrossed.

Tiger was quite happy to come into a tournament with a horrendous spotlight on him. I was amazed how he could do that. I’ll never forget, I was on the range doing TV at Augusta. He came on the range, and you could feel the aura. Every player would turn and look. All the gallery, every eye was on him. He turned it into energy. I’m sure Ali had that.

Once you get everything right, it’s that wonderful feeling knowing that you’re going to do it. I had that once: walking down the first fairway at St Andrews, in 1990. They had put the flag just over the burn, into the breeze, and David [Leadbetter] came to tell me that balls were spinning back into the burn. So it’s a 9-iron, but I’m worried, so I’ll hit 8. And then I get a little more nervous and take out a 7. So I chip a 7, and I land it right in the back of the green, and I’ve got a 30-yard putt. And I said to myself, Just relax. You’re going to win.

You can say it now 30 years later, and people don’t think you’re an ass. But how cool a line is that to say to yourself? That is your ultimate. The millions of golf balls and the thousands of hours just to be able to say you know what to do and how to do it under the ultimate pressure, and you love it.

JOHNNY MILLER: The Father Influence

When Tiger came up, I saw a lot of my golf upbringing in him. I don’t know exactly how Earl worked, but I could tell he had that affirmation thing going big time with Tiger. I mean, he said, This guy’s going to be the greatest, and he probably said it a million times to Tiger. He also paid the price with Tiger with his time, doing a lot of things my father did. Everything was centred around his dad, right?

With Tiger, what I saw was the drive, even a stronger drive than I had. And he had the rarest of all abilities: If he needed to make the putt, somehow he could make it go in. Not many guys can actually make it, you know. I think of [Billy] Casper, Nicklaus — for a while, Trevino. It’s very rare to have a guy who actually improved his putting when it mattered the most. Tiger was definitely that way. I could do it with my ball-striking. But you still had to finish it off with the putts.

I think Earl had that sense that this guy is special, and I think it was a special relationship. Tiger wanted to please his dad and follow what his dad wanted to accomplish with him. Sometimes you hear some of the negative, but I think most of it was pretty amazing. I believe Tiger, if it wasn’t for Earl, would be just another guy. I really believe that.

When my dad started me out hitting balls into a canvas tarp in our basement when I was 5, you couldn’t use too much loft because it would hit the rafters. So I hit a lot of 5- and 6-irons. And I would wear out this dark-green canvas, making a little light green line where it would start to shred. I’d aim for that little stripe about 15 feet away, and I knew where a perfect 6-iron would hit. The thing that the basement did for me, is that it really got me to know what the sound and feel of a pure shot was. You could hear the strike, and you could feel no vibration. Trying to get that would really focus you.

I was very little. When I graduated from ninth grade, I was 5-feet-2, 105 lbs. I was a phenomenal putter. I’ll bet you when I was 12, I was in the top 10 in the world putting. I once had 16 putts for 18 holes [at San Francisco’s Lincoln Park]. On terrible greens, by the way.

But I loved the game, everything about it. My dad, he made me like a little pro, had me practise how I put my hat on, how I tipped my hat, how I put my glove on, and how I squinted my eyes and gritted my teeth. Sort of a little Hogan. He always talked about psyche. And he had a blackboard with certain things he wanted me to do because I was small and I needed to be strong — push-ups, squeeze grips, pull-ups.

He would work the midnight-to-8am shift so that he could sleep while I was in school. After school, he’d take me to San Francisco Golf Club, where I was taking lessons [from John Geertsen], and the club sort of adopted me. They averaged only 20 players a day, so in the afternoon no one was even out there, so I could hit as many balls as I wanted. Even on approaches into the greens, I could hit eight balls, fixing my divots.

If I hit a bad shot, my dad didn’t really focus on the bad at all. It was just: ‘OK, one more shot.’ It was always one more, no matter how many balls I had hit. It was: ‘OK, let’s see you hit another one,’ never: ‘OK, let’s go home.’ I don’t think he ever said: ‘Let’s go home.’

He was a smart guy, and he was teaching the best he could. He’d give me 10 things to try, and eight of them were just way out there. But I would analyse why each one was not a good idea. And then one of the ideas was really good, and one was fantastic. Like when I was 10 or 11, he had me carry a left-handed 5-iron. So I became quite good left-handed, about a 6-handicap. Now coaches recommend swinging left-handed as a training aid. It wasn’t boring, because he was super creative.

I was a good little fighter. My dad was a boxing fan, and he taught me how to box. I didn’t get in that many fights, but I never lost a fight. The fight would last only 30 or 40 seconds, but that’s the way you settled disagreements back then. When he taught me how to box, that gave me confidence, too.

When I was a young player, I didn’t even know what a bad stretch was. Never played bad. Never. It’s not like I would shoot a bad round and then a real good round. It was just always good. I was a plus-2 when I was 16 years old on the Lake Course at Olympic Club.

I do think you need a start like I did to get a head start. All my friends would work as hard as I did, but they were always a little behind me. They didn’t have their father involved. That can work negatively if the guy is overbearing. But my dad was always about affirmations — “You’re doing great. You’re on the right track. Keep doing those exercises. You’re going to be a champion.” Over and over. He’d call me Champ — that affirmation of potential. Actually, not just potential, because I knew when I was nine years old that I was going to be a champion golfer. Something inside me said: ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re going to be a champion, like your dad said.’ So that affirmation of greatness or being successful from your father is the strongest affirmation there is for a boy.

JACK NICKLAUS: Making It Happen

When you say: ‘Making it happen,’ I think the key to that, and what Tiger and I both understood, is knowing what was happening.

I go back to some of the mistakes that I made. I look at the 39 I shot on the last nine holes of the US Open at Cherry Hills in 1960. At Pebble Beach in 1963, I came to the last hole tied with Billy Casper but three-putted from 22 feet by being too aggressive with the first putt and then missed the comebacker. As good as Casper was, my chances of beating him in a playoff were higher than making that 22-footer. Later that summer, down the stretch at Royal Lytham, I lost by one after bogeying the last two holes by not being smart.

Those are things you learn from, how to assess a situation and learn who you are and what you can do. And you gain confidence when those lessons teach you how to choose the correct course. Ultimately you become that golfer.

If I had a putt on the 18th to make, that I needed to make, more often than not I made it. Inside 10 feet, more than likely I made that putt. With Tiger, the same thing. Think of Tiger at the [2003] Presidents Cup in South Africa in sudden death with Ernie Els. Particularly the second putt, the one in the dark. I mean, that was just … he made it happen.

In those situations, I always stood over a putt, and I’d say: ‘I need … I HAVE to make this putt. Period. I gotta make it.’ And more often than not, that made me focus more, and I made it. And once you do that a couple of times, you say: ‘Well, what should I say this time: Gee, I’d LIKE to make it? No. I HAVE to make it.’ Once you find something you tell yourself that works, you continue to do that thing until it proves it doesn’t. For me, it kept working most of the time.

I got nervous all the time, as nervous as the next guy. It’s just that I caught myself before it became destructive. You might be thinking: ‘Gosh, I’m worried about missing it.’ When you get that out of your system, you eliminate all the negatives.

I don’t know how much is innate. I mean, I started winning when I was 10, 11 years old. I was out playing with [wife] Barbara at Lost Tree on the sixth hole one time, a par 5, and Barbara hit three fairway woods up there and made 4. And I had a 25-footer for 4, and I made it. And she says: ‘You can’t ever let me win one?’ I said: ‘I’m sorry, it’s what I do. I’m like the scorpion and the frog. It’s my nature.’

Why, I don’t know. I wish I could answer that question, but I can’t — I just don’t know. It was not an accident. No, I worked very hard for that. But no, I never tried to figure it out. How does Jack Nicklaus know who Jack Nicklaus is? Whatever I had to do, I just went ahead and did it.

Sure, I could have gone the other way. Why didn’t I? Because I didn’t want to [chuckles]. I didn’t want to be a bad player. I didn’t want to lose tournaments. I wanted to learn why I made mistakes. I think Tiger does much the same thing.

My dad loved playing all sports, and so did I. I’ve played tennis all my life. I played basketball in a rec league until I was 40. I’d take the kids to football practice, and I’d throw to them in passing drills. Playing all those sports taught you a lot about yourself and about what you can do and what you can’t do. Especially when you’re dealing with team sports, you’re working with your teammates and seeing them make mistakes and their strengths. And you relate those things right back to yourself and how to make yourself better. Did what I learned from team sports help me to learn to rise to the occasion in golf? Absolutely.

Tiger was always a guy who once he got ahead, he was able to gain the ability to just bury everybody. And I never really thought about burying the field. All I ever thought about was, I got my lead, now how do I not do something stupid to lose my lead? The 1965 Masters [where Nicklaus won by nine], it just happened. And the 1980 PGA [Nicklaus won by seven at Oak Hill], I was playing terrible.

I try to subdue my emotion in competition. When I was a kid, I’d find myself getting excited when I did something good, and I’d lose my focus and wouldn’t get back down for a hole or two. I said, I can’t do that. So I was one of those guys who didn’t pump himself up by getting excited. I had to control it so I could continue to do something good.

The game is unpredictable, and it’s different every day. I don’t think I ever had two problems to solve in a round that were exactly the same, ever. You always have to figure out: ‘How do I really make this happen?’ I trusted my instinct. I always felt like any time I played a tournament, any place in a round, if I didn’t like how I was swinging, I would change it. I go back and look at a lot of times I did that, and who knows why I did it, but I just said: ‘This is not what I want to be doing. I need to make an adjustment, and I need to make it now, and I’ve got to do it without destroying myself to do it.’

GARY PLAYER: Bound for Great Things

Tiger had advantages physically and in his early exposure to the game that I didn’t have. It put him on the road to being the greatest golfer who ever lived. But the thing where we were equal, or I might have even had more of, was drive. Man, I was driven. There is never enough success for me.

One of the first things I noticed about Tiger is his strong belief in his destiny. He carried himself with a peaceful but powerful sense that he was bound for great things. I understand that feeling. It was vital to my inner view of myself, especially when I knew others might not have shared it. But that only made me more determined.

When I was 15, I broke my neck showing off for some other boys by jumping headfirst into what I thought was a pit of soft leaves and grass, and hit the bottom. I had to stay inactive for nearly a year. I had been playing golf for only a year, but I was already consumed by the game. During my convalescence, I would be alone in the house and stand in front of a mirror, saying over and over: ‘You’re the greatest golfer in the world.’ It was absurd, but something told me that mattered. Later, I learned from reading and befriending Norman Vincent Peale. He once wrote: ‘If you want something and you go for it, you will be astonished at the values you will find.’

My parents, Harry and Muriel, always encouraged us. I’m sure it gave me the belief that what I could conceive, I could achieve. It’s the greatest gift you can give a child.

My older brother, Ian, was a tremendous influence on me. I remember at 8 or 9 trying to run a five-mile course with him, but I fell down less than halfway, exhausted. I cried: ‘Ian, I can’t make it.’ He yanked me to my feet and very sternly told me: ‘You can do anything you want to. Remember that. There’s no room for can’t in this life.’ Then he kicked me on the backside to emphasise the point. Ever since, if I’ve ever been tempted to say I can’t, I feel that kick again.

A golfer’s true greatness is revealed not when he’s playing his best, but when he’s not and still manages to win. For all his talent, Tiger has shown even more will, and so often when he was fighting his swing he still found a way. There were many times in tournaments when I was lost, hitting absolute rubbish, but I would get the ball on the green and make the key putts. How does that happen? Desire. Tiger has always had more of that than the players he’s beaten. You feel as if he cares more than anyone else. I was told that when I played, I gave that impression.

Tiger has hit so many amazing shots under pressure. Often, with some players more than others, pressure can destroy performance. But I’ve found it’s amazing how the intense pressure of the crucial moment, when something special is required, produced the best shots of my career. I don’t know if you can say it’s luck if you continuously did that. Talent, maybe?

Obviously I’m pulling for Tiger — I am a big Tiger Woods fan. But I think we could look back and say that his downfall was striving for too much perfection. He was on the way to being the best player the world had ever known. He wins the US Open by 15 shots, and shortly after he’s having lessons and changing his swing. There is always a limit, and I don’t think he could have gotten better. I pursued better technique my whole career — my only regret is a lost chance to learn from Ben Hogan — and it’s a capricious thing that often doesn’t lead to improvement. Golf is such a very, very intricate game, and there is a limitation.

LEE TREVINO: A Reason for Everything

Tiger, like me, is obsessed with golf. People have to understand that he made himself what he is. He wasn’t born with that. Superstars make themselves that way.

When you want to be the best, you gotta do something extra. You can’t just do the same thing that everybody else is doing. All the great ones do that. I outpractised them. The better I did it, the more I’d like to see it, and the more I practised.

The secret is, everything that you do, there’s a reason. The good players figure out the why. Why that ball’s doing that. And why you can do this. Most people don’t do that.

I played a hook with a pretty swing until I came back from the Marine Corps and saw Ben Hogan hitting fades at Shady Oaks. After that, I figured out a way to play to avoid the left side. See, I play with two flags. I aim at this flag, but I hit it at that one. I’ll stand here, and I’ll go like this [simulates his open stance]. I’m looking right at the target. I don’t have to do this [looking more over his left shoulder from a square stance]. And then I played a block fade. You have to, if you’re aiming left. It’s in your mind, it’s in your make-up, it’s in your body. Putted the same way. Copied Jack Nicklaus, the greatest putter I’ve ever seen.

You have to respond to the target. During the swing, I look for the target in my subconscious mind. You can’t think when you swing. The more you think, the worse you’ll play. What’s happened, unfortunately, and I mean no disrespect by this, is that people who are teaching are getting way too crazy with too many little movements and muscles. You can’t let too many people mess with you. Mr Palmer had it right when he said: ‘Swing your swing.’

Tiger outsmarted himself. He didn’t realise that if he just maintained, he would still be winning everything. Instead, he wanted to do something else. He got bored. He wasn’t satisfied winning by 15. He wasn’t satisfied by winning 30 per cent of his tournaments. It was too easy for him. He was actually too good, and it got in his way.

Here’s what Butch Harmon told me. I said: ‘Tiger?’ He said: ‘Lee, I can’t teach him anymore. He knows more than I do about the swing. You can’t believe what he knows about this thing.’

Because Tiger dissected it like me. He knows why it happens this way when you do a certain thing. But like Butch said: ‘There are some guys that want somebody watching over them.’

I didn’t. Jack told me one time: ‘You’re the smartest golfer I ever met.’ That was the best compliment I’ve ever had. Ever had.

You never stop dreaming it. I love the art of it. I love the people. And still being able to go out and perform. With Tiger, it’s even more so. It would be very easy for him to say: ‘I don’t even want to mess with it.’ I mean, his retirement fund alone has got more money than AT&T. So no, he loves the sport, he loves competition, he loves to win, he loves to play well. That’s his whole thing. If Tiger does not hurt anymore, I think he’ll play until he’s 50, and then he’ll play the majors on the Champions Tour.

One of the greatest feelings in the world is when you’re out of pain. When my L-5 nerve was completely trapped, I was in that bed upstairs for three months. Wasn’t able to even put my pants on. I could not move. Then [after a 2004 procedure to implant a spinal spacer], no pain. It was like cutting me loose with 31 flavours. Tiger is going to be the same thing. He lost his body, but he didn’t lose his talent. And the longer he goes with no pain, the more confidence he’s going to build. And then he’s going to get up one day and say: ‘I’m back, baby!’

The post Speaking to the best — from Nicklaus to Faldo: What made Tiger Woods great? appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

While Faldo had roughly two months to prepare for his last goodbye since revealing he would be ending his TV career after nearly two decades, the emotions of the moment on Sunday still got the best of the 65-year-old.

"I'm a single child and I've found, at 65, three brothers."

The end of an era.@NickFaldo006 signs off for the final time. pic.twitter.com/nXm8mRMPnz

— PGA TOUR (@PGATOUR) August 7, 2022

“I blew it,” the Englishman said amid heavy tears. Once finally composed enough to speak, he recalled the day he was offered the job at CBS. “I was in a boat in Ireland, and they gave me a call and said, ‘How would you like to sit next to Jim Nantz?’ and I literally fell out the boat, I really did. That was 2006, and here we are 16 years later.”

Throughout Sunday’s broadcast — the last golf tournament on CBS’ 2022 calendar — the crew took time to salute Faldo for his years of work.

“I think it’s fair to say that you let us see as a broadcaster what’s in your heart, much more than we did with your stoic manner as a player,” Nantz said. “May the sands of time be very kind to you, my friend.”

Earlier in the week, Faldo’s connection to Greensboro only grew stronger. Tournament officials honoured him with a spot on Sedgefield Country Club’s Wall of Fame, joining Charlie Sifford and Arnold Palmer.

16 seasons of smiles and laughter.

The best and funniest moments of @NickFaldo006’s broadcasting career in honor of his retirement. pic.twitter.com/BpAQ1O2aAU

— PGA TOUR (@PGATOUR) August 7, 2022

Faldo will spend his retirement in Montana, where he and his wife Lindsey are renovating a farm.

“To the crew, as I affectionately and respectfully call you the workers. They put the pictures out, we do all the rattling, the easy job,” Faldo said at the broadcast’s end. “Thank you all. I’m a single [inaudible], but I’ve found these three brothers. Thank you. Thank you. I’m ready.”

You may also like:
Rickie Fowler is lucky Mr 125 on PGA Tour FedExCup playoffs list
Relief for Buhai at AIG Women’s Open
Decision time for LIV Golfers in PGA Tour battle
R&A increases Women’s Open purse to 7.3 million
LIV Golf numbers grow on Asian Tour
Get the August 2022 edition of Golf Digest Middle East FREE here in English and Arabic
Legend John Daly ‘begged’ for LIV Golf spot
Mickelson was suspended by PGA Tour in March; banned for two years
Mickelson and Dechambeau lead group of 11 LIV golfers suing PGA Tour
Adam Hadwin in trouble with wife Jessica — again
LIV Golf gives to local charities in New Jersey
Bryson DeChambeau on LIV/PGA feud and his $125m signing-on fee
What it is like to be the first woman from your country to win a title
Five players to watch at the AIG Women’s Open
Australian army target more glory in Scotland
Laura Davies’ unique return to Muirfield
Phil Mickelson becomes highest-paid athlete of 2022
WATCH: LIV Golf highlights from Bedminster
Stenson takes debut LIV Golf title at Bedminster
LIV Golf takeaways after third event in New Jersey
The Gulf Club: Latest news from the UAE and beyond up to August 2022
Crocker takes the glory at Hero Open

The post PGA Tour: Watch an emotional Nick Faldo struggle through tears as he signs off after 16 years as CBS’ lead golf analyst appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

There are many contenders, Cameron Smith’s 64 at St Andrews on Sunday to win the 150th Open Championship joining the list. Some could point to Charl Schwartzel’s four straight closing birdies to clinch the 2011 Masters. Shaun Micheel’s wondrous 7-iron to within six inches of the flag on the final hole at Oak Hill will no doubt provide the 2003 PGA champion with some support. And those of a more elderly vintage might go for Arnold Palmer’s final-round 65 at Cherry Hills in 1960, a score that gave ‘The King’ his only US Open victory.

There are plenty of others, of course. And every one, no doubt, comes with a powerful/logical argument in its favour. But, in the end, they all come up short.

Here is your champion, your No. 1, the undoubted best of the best, the finish and finisher that finishes any and all debate about finishing.

The record book baldly states that Peter O’Malley — ‘Pom’ to his friends — shot 262, 18-under, at Gleneagles to win the 1992 Bell’s Scottish Open by two shots from eight-time European No. 1 Colin Montgomerie. Nick Faldo, who would go to Muirfield and win the Open Championship for a third time a week later, tied for third. Two other Masters winners, Bernhard Langer and Ian Woosnam, occupied spots in the top 10.

But even that star-studded list of the vanquished only hints at what transpired three decades ago on the endlessly scenic Kings Course that this week plays host the British Senior Open. Here, ladies and gentlemen, is how the genial O’Malley, a stocky Australian known for his metronomic full swing and sometimes dodgy putting stroke, performed over the closing stretch that momentous day to win the first of three European Tour titles:
Eagle-birdie-birdie-birdie-eagle.

No, not a misprint. Seven-under. For five holes.

“When Nick Faldo and I arrived on the 14th tee, there was a bit of a delay,” recalls O’Malley, 27 at the time, who was one-under for the round at that point. “Nick isn’t known for talking much, but we actually had a conversation. I can’t remember what he said … I was probably too surprised that he was actually speaking to take anything in. Then again, at that stage I was more concerned with winning one of the five spots available in the Open.”

Faldo had the honour and found the front-left bunker at the green on the drivable par 4. O’Malley’s drive finished maybe 20 feet from the hole, which is when the soon-to-be champion got his big break.

“Nick’s bunker shot finished just outside my ball and on the same line, which was a big bonus for me,” O’Malley says. “He hit a great putt, but it broke a huge amount in the last couple of feet. So I got a great read. I’m sure I wouldn’t have holed my putt had it not been for Nick showing me the line. I probably would have hit the putt he did. But I didn’t. I can still remember the roar I got when I holed it. The noise was incredible. There was a big crowd watching us, Nick was World No. 1, and the atmosphere walking to the next tee was amazing. I had goosebumps when I got there.”

O’Malley’s drive off the 15th tee was uncharacteristically wayward, “the worst shot I hit all day.” But he got lucky.

“I hit it far enough right that I was on the spectator’s walkway,” explains O’Malley, whose other claim to fame in a long career came 10 years later, when he defeated Tiger Woods in the first round of the 2002 WGC-Accenture Match Play at La Costa (“Tiger putted like Pom and Pom putted like Tiger,” jokes former European Tour player Mike Clayton). “That was a big break. I had a good lie. And I hit a really good 5-iron to about 15 feet. When the putt was halfway to the cup, I knew it was going in. The 16th is the little par 3, and I hit an 8-iron to about 15 feet again. I was feeling pretty confident by that stage, and it went in again for birdie. It wasn’t until then that I thought I could win. Although I was really pumped up, that was the first time I had felt adrenaline and been able to control it.”

Montgomerie remembers O’Malley’s play from that day … and the Scottish saltire on his sweater. David Cannon

After another birdie on the par-4 17th, that surge of internal energy was to prove useful on the par-5 18th. The closing hole features a saddle across the fairway at what was an awkward distance for O’Malley. For him, an average drive would fail to carry the rise and leave him unable to reach the distance green in two. Happily though, for a pumped-up Pom it proved no problem.

“I hit one of the best drives of my life there,” he says. “I was still using a persimmon driver and flew it over the hill. Faldo couldn’t do it. He wasn’t that long off the tee for such a big man. I hit a 6-iron right at the flag and had about 15 feet for eagle. I saw the line and just stroked the putt. It wasn’t until the ball struck the back of the cup and jumped up that I realized I had maybe hit it a bit too hard. But it went in. At the time I didn’t realize I had won. There were a few groups still on the course. But I was aware of what I had just done.”

A couple of hours later, O’Malley and girlfriend (now wife) Jill were back at the Gleneagles Hotel. Due to pre-qualify for the Open at North Berwick the following day, he had checked-out that morning.

“They were very nice and gave us a suite at the same room rate I had paid for the previous nights,” O’Malley says. “We had dinner with a group of friends. I spent more on that meal than I had for everything else that week. The next day we checked into a B&B at North Berwick. When we went to a local pub for something to eat, everyone in there knew me. It really brought it home to me what a big deal golf is in Scotland. I’ll never forget that.”

O’Malley celebrates his out-of-nowhere victory. David Cannon

Oddly, the same cannot be said for Faldo. Asked for his memories of O’Malley’s incredible finish, the CBS commentator was stuck for words. Actually, not quite. “I love it when people think just because you were there you can remember what someone else did,” shrugged the six-time major champion.

Runner-up Montgomerie, who played that day in a sweater emblazoned with the Scottish Saltire, hasn’t forgotten though. Years later, the Scot bumped into O’Malley at a tournament.

“I was thinking of you yesterday,” said Monty, who shares a birthday, June 23, with the Aussie.

“Oh really? Why was that?”

“I got a couple of boxes in the mail from my ex-wife. In one was that bloody Saltire jumper.”

Three decades on, O’Malley still gets people reminding him of what went on July 11, 1992.

“It’s amazing what happened,” he agrees. “I’ve always had bursts like that though, where I start to make putts one after the other. But that was the most significant of those. It was a fantastic feeling and finish.”

The best ever actually.

You may also like:
McGinley refuses to slate Ryder Cup mates for joining LIV Golf
Kokrak and Howell III join Stenson at LIV Golf Invitational Bedminster
Henrik Stenson removed as Ryder Cup captain
LOOK: Golf bag chaos at Scottish airport after The Open
Casey confirmed as LIV Golf Bedimster field revealed
Bryson back to ’97-98 per cent fitness’
LOOK: Then and now — The Old Course at St Andrews
Parting thoughts from the 150th Open Championship
Ryder Cup captain Stenson set for LIV Golf switch
2022 major winners accomplish historic first
Rory’s grim record at The Open
Cameron Smith’s awkward answer when asked about LIV Golf interests
Who won what prize money at record Open
Calm Cam’s Road Hole putt proves pivotal
Cam Smith is the Wizard from Oz
LIV Golf: Casey and co considering Asian Tour avenue
LIV Golf unity for players at the Open
Watch: Back-to-back Lowry eagles
What next for Tiger Woods?
WATCH: Poulter’s record putt on the Old Course
WATCH: Haotong Li hits the wall at The Open
Asian Tour offers LIV Golfers ranking points opportunity
Weather at St Andrews is way too nice for those who like carnage
Why a St Andrews Open just hits different
15 St Andrews landmarks you need to know
R&A fires warning to LIV Golf players
Jack Nicklaus honoured in St Andrews
The 15 best battles for the Claret Jug at St Andrews
LIV Golf to discover OWGR fate
PGA Tour under investigation over LIV Golf
Record prize money at 150th Open Championship

The post Remembering the greatest individual tournament finish in golf history 30 years later appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

Just as with the previous posts, I’ve relied on the knowledge of an able historian to help me navigate this difficult question. My guru on this journey was Laurie Rae, Senior Curator at the R&A. Mr. Rae gave generously of his time to help winnow 148 Opens down to the “best” 15. The wisdom is all his, the perceived errors in ranking all mine. Let’s begin!

15. 1954, Peter Thomson, Royal Birkdale

If there are two historical golfers who merit more attention than they get, they are Peter Thomson and Bobby Locke. Rae didn’t want to use the word “forgotten,” but I will. At least in America, Thomson and Locke don’t get the credit they deserve, possibly because neither took home an American major and possibly because they missed the early peak of televised golf. But for a period in the 1950s, they were dominant at the Open, winning eight of 10 claret jugs between 1949 and 1958. The ’54 Open saw Thomson claim the first of his five, and become the first Australian to capture the championship. He and Locke were among those who fought it out in the final round at Royal Birkdale, and though I couldn’t find footage of Thomson’s sand recovery on 16, I did find this delightful newsreel showing the action of the final holes:

14. 1937, Henry Cotton, Carnoustie

Cotton’s triumph in 1934 was critical because it broke a streak of eight straight American wins, but his victory in ’37 was even more important in that he defeated the entirety of the U.S. Ryder Cup team, all of whom had stuck around to play at Carnoustie after their 8-4 win in late June. Cotton’s brilliant final-round 71 came in torrential conditions, and he later said that it was one of the finest rounds of his career. With that result, he overcame a three-shot 54-hole deficit to defeat among others Byron Nelson. According to Rae, the Englishman’s win “maintained British interest in the championship itself.”

13. 1992, Nick Faldo, Muirfield

Photo by Getty Images

As Rae noted, Faldo was in the prime of his prime, going for his fifth major in six years. He had won the Irish Open, and at the start of this Open, he looked fundamentally unstoppable. He set a 36-hole record, beat his own 54-hole record and came into the final round leading by four shots. It looked like a coronation, but it was not—a miserable stretch from 11 to 14 saw him lose three shots, American John Cook catching him and taking the lead on 16. For Faldo, this “dominant” Open now became about resilience. Pulling himself together, he birdied two of the final four holes and squeaked out a one-shot win—a testament to perseverance and even acceptance in the face of what must have been massive disappointment, and the greatest of his three Opens.

12. 1927, Bobby Jones, Old Course at St. Andrews

Photo by Topical Press Agency

In 1921, a younger, more impetuous Bobby Jones became so angry at his play in the third round at St. Andrews that he tore up his scorecard and withdrew after 11 holes. He then insulted the Old Course, and the St. Andrews press fired back, writing “Master Bobby is just a boy, and an ordinary boy at that.” This, then, was a kind of comeback story, because in the interval, Jones had come to love both the course and the town. And as fate would have it, they loved him back. When he won by six shots, he was carried off the green by a jubilant crowd, and even asked that his trophy be kept in Scotland with the R&A. By 1958, Jones had become just the second American “Freeman of the City” in St. Andrews, an honor he shared with none other than Ben Franklin. At that ceremony, Jones said of the Old Course that, “the more you study it, the more you love it, and the more you love it, the more you study it.”

11. 1953, Ben Hogan, Carnoustie

What do you call it when the greatest golfer of his generation comes over for the first and only time in his life, had just a week to prepare for the links style, improved in every round and won by four strokes? You call it Ben Hogan being Ben Hogan. The win capped an incredible year in major championships that also saw him capture the Masters and U.S. Open. He remains the only golfer to ever win those three events in the same year.

10. 1984, Seve Ballesteros, Old Course at St. Andrews

I’ll be honest: I’m in this one for the little dance Seve did when he sunk his putt on the 72nd hole. But historically, it merits top-10 status for the incredible drama at the end. Tom Watson, heading into the final round tied for the lead, had one of his greatest chances to win what would have been his record-tying sixth Open. With two holes to play, Watson and Seve were tied. Seve had a putt to take the lead on 18, while Watson was struggling to make his par on the road hole. The drama can best be seen starting at the 44:30 mark here:

Seve’s putt instigated a two-shot swing, perhaps one of the most famous in major championship golf, and added his name to the list of legendary winners at the Home of Golf.

9. 1896, Harry Vardon, Muirfield

This was the first of Vardon’s record six Open Championship wins, and though Rae said that every one of them was noteworthy enough to merit inclusion on the list, this one stood out because of how Vardon out-duelled his great rival J.H. Taylor over a 36-hole playoff. While the tournament’s final round came on a Thursday, the playoff wasn’t played until Saturday, since both Vardon and Taylor had to play a different 36-hole tournament on the Friday. Taylor won that one, but Vardon beat him at Muirfield. Taylor would win again, though, and in fact there was a 21-year period where Vardon, Taylor and James Braid won 16 championships between them. “They were the superstars of the Open,” Rae said.

8. 1868, Tom Morris Jr., Prestwick

At the time, Tom Morris Jr. (if you’re wondering, yes, I was slightly disappointed that Rae didn’t call him “Young Tom Morris”) was the youngest player in Open Championship history at 17. Prestwick was a 12-hole course, and the three rounds of the championship were all held on a single day. Morris Jr. set a record when he shot 51 on his first round, which was then bested by his father, who shot a 50 in the second round to take a one-shot lead. In the final round, though, Morris Jr. struck back, carding a 49 to beat his dad by three shots and win his first Open (which came with a massive £6 prize). This was the first of four straight Opens victories for Young Tom. As Rae pointed out, his story is all the more poignant because of his untimely death—Morris Jr. died on Christmas Day 1875 at age 24 from a pulmonary haemorrhage. “There were often very few competitors at this time,” Rae said, “but the golf was no less impressive and the champions no less dominant than they are today.” Morris Jr. remains the youngest Open winner in history, and his father is still the oldest.

7. 1972, Lee Trevino, Muirfield

In terms of the greatest shots in Open history, Trevino’s chip on 17 on Sunday ranks near the top. He had bungled the par 5 up to that point, and had hole out for par while Tony Jacklin, tied for the lead, had a 15-footer for birdie. It looked very much like Jacklin would head to the final hole with at least a one-shot edge. “I really felt, on the 17th, like I’d broken him,” Jacklin would later say. But in one of the great feats of match-play-within-stroke-play golf, Trevino turned the tables. Watch it play out, including Jacklin’s subsequent putts, starting at the 3:45 mark:

For Jacklin, who had watched Trevino hole out twice the day before, the loss was unbearable. Later, he said, “I was never the same again after that. I didn’t ever get my head around it—it definitely knocked the stuffing out of me somehow.” Jacklin had already won the Open in 1969, luckily, and would go on to transform the European Ryder Cup team as its captain, but what shows the emotional swings of better than that moment, which gave Trevino his second straight claret jug?

6. 1961, Arnold Palmer, Royal Troon

Photo by Bob Thomas

The impact here was more wide-ranging than any drama on the course, in which Palmer beat Dai Rees by a shot. What really mattered was that Palmer was the first American champion since Hogan in 1953, and his win did more to increase the status of the Open in America than anything before. According to Rae, a figure as beloved as Palmer, who believed so much in the history and importance of the Open as the oldest of the majors—this was his second trip over, having finished runner-up in ’60—and who wanted to win it so badly, fundamentally changed how the tournament was viewed in the eyes of American professionals. Many had stopped making the trip due to travel concerns, the low prize money and various other reasons. Palmer’s victory completely changed the perception. You can see it in the results—the long American dry spell was over, and in the 60 Opens that started with his win, Americans have won more than half. In his unique way, Palmer made it matter again.

5. 1970, Jack Nicklaus, Old Course at St. Andrews

It seems like the great ones always manage to get a win at St. Andrews, and for Nicklaus, this was the first of two. Interestingly, Doug Sanders only needed a par on the 18th hole to pull out the victory, but he missed a three-foot putt after being distracted by something in his eye line. Despite Sanders’s disappointment, he battled hard in the 18-hole playoff. It came down to the 18th hole, when Nicklaus took off his yellow sweater and hit one of the most famous shots of his career—a drive that actually flew over the green, travelling about 360 yards in total.

He chipped close from there, made his birdie putt and beat Sanders by one. At the end of this video, you can see Nicklaus, thrilled beyond self-control when his winning putt caught the right and edge and fell, actually threw his putter in the air, which nearly managed to hit Sanders as it fell.

4. 2016, Henrik Stenson, Royal Troon

“Some of the finest links golf you’d ever seen,” Rae said, and really, what more needs adding to this incredible fight between Stenson and Mickelson? It ended with Mickelson cooling off, just slightly, but Stenson never did, tying Johnny Miller’s major record (for a winner) with a final-round 63, and set a cumulative Open record with his 72-hole score in relation to par of 20 under. In many ways, it was also the best possible result—Mickelson had already won his Open in 2013, and Stenson was a player who deserved a major, but was starting to look like he might never get one. To win the Open, as a European, felt appropriate, and secured Stenson’s legacy. Plus, there was that record-setting final putt:

3. 2000, Tiger Woods, Old Course at St. Andrews

It seems like every major has its quintessential Transcendent Tiger year, in which the GOAT demolishes the field in ways that defy belief. The Masters in 1997, the U.S. Open in 2000, and maybe, at a stretch, the 2006 PGA. For the Open Championship, it was back in the greatest year of his great career, 2000. This was the “Millennium Open,” at the most famous course in the world, and 239,000 spectators watched him post a then-Open record 19 under, beating his nearest opponent by eight strokes and securing the career Grand Slam at the age of 24, the youngest to achieve the feat. Rae reminded me of an incredible facet of his performance: In 72 holes of superb course management, he didn’t find a single bunker. Remarkable anywhere, but especially at St. Andrews. And it’s also worth remembering that coming on the heels of his crushing Pebble Beach win, it legitimately seemed like Tiger might never lose again. This was a kind of dominance we’d never seen before, and haven’t since.

hoto by JONATHAN UTZ

2. 2019, Shane Lowry, Royal Portrush

Call it recency bias, and in fact I implied as much to Rae when he ranked it second on his list. I made a small note to adjust the ranking later—the privileges of a writer/dictator—but the more I thought about his argument, the more sense it made. The Open, more than any other major, is about history, and the significance of holding the first Open in Northern Ireland since 1951 is about as historical as it gets. In the interlude, that country fell into decades of religious and political conflict, and the symbolism of the R&A returning to Royal Portrush was enormous. To pull off a safe event, embraced by the people, and for an Irish golfer to win … well, it didn’t matter that the final day lacked drama. “It made your heartbeat quicker to witness it,” Rae told me, and in the end, I agree with him—the historical importance is unmatched.

1. Tom Watson, 1977, Turnberry

Students of the game knew No. 1 without having to scroll down, or else would have been enraged to find anything else in the top spot. “The Duel in the Sun” between Watson and Jack Nicklaus was simply one of the greatest golf spectacles ever, and one that, to quote Rae, “will forever be spoken about.” It was about the great rivalry between the two men, it was about the sportsmanship on display, and, of course, it was about the golf. “It went beyond natural chronology,” Rae said. “It was legendary.”

Watson, 27, and Nicklaus, 37, matched each other score for score in the first three rounds at Turnberry, hosting the Open for the first time, pulling away together where by the end, they were 10 shots better than anyone else in the field. In the closing stretch, where Watson birdied four of the final six holes for the dramatic victory, but perhaps it’s best summarized by a quote from that final-round Saturday, when Watson turned to Nicklaus and said, “this is what it’s all about isn’t it?”

“You bet it is,” Nicklaus replied.

The post The 15 best Open Championships, ranked appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

It’s worth noting that in 2015 Golf Digest commissioned a sweeping survey of television viewers to gauge their opinion of various elements of golf broadcasts and for the first time Miller had been overtaken by Nick Faldo as the favourite analyst (Jim Nantz reigns as the favourite play-by-play man). After dominating previous surveys in 1996 and 2002, Miller fell to second place to Faldo, who was ranked first by 58 percent of voters (Miller had 53 percent of the vote—voters could select more than one announcer).

Granted, some of the results were circumstantial. At the time of the survey, Miller was coming off his first summer not broadcasting the U.S. Open, and it wasn’t a Ryder Cup year. Outside factors might also explain why Paul Azinger, Miller’s expected successor according to sources, ranked third in the survey with 46 percent of the vote. Although the 1993 PGA Champion has broadcast the last three U.S. Opens for Fox, back then the job belonged to Greg Norman, with most fans still calling on Azinger’s limited exposure as the lead analyst for ABC & ESPN.

[divider] [/divider]

WATCH NOW: THE 2018 PGA TOUR SEASON IN 90 SECONDS

[divider] [/divider]

Put another way, the survey underscored that what golf announcers say might matter to fans. But probably not as much as whatever event they’re describing.

The post Where does Johnny Miller rank among favourite golf analysts? We asked appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

By Christopher Powers
Before Tiger Woods flashed glimpses of his former self at the Hero World Challenge in December, he urged everyone he’d be taking it slow in this latest comeback. Eight months later, the oddsmakers have listed him at 5/1 to win a 15th major in 2019, and 12/1 that it happens at Augusta. Life moves fast.

RELATED: Tiger Woods didn’t win the PGA. It just felt like he did

This time a year ago, it was impossible to even fathom Woods contending in another tournament again, let alone a major. The last time he had played competitively prior to this season, he walked off the course with back pain at the Dubai Desert Classic, the latest setback in a series of setbacks that seemed to signal the end was near.

According to Nick Faldo, Woods admitted he was not only nearing that precipice, but he had crossed it at the Masters Champions dinner. Faldo shared this anecdote on Monday on the Dan Patrick Show when discussing Woods’ impressive Sunday performance at Bellerive:

“What he’s been able to do is, it’s unbelievable, remarkable,” Faldo told Patrick. “To go from a frozen back—I know he whispered to another Masters champion two Masters dinners ago ‘I’m done. I won’t play golf again,’ and here we are, 18 months later…”

Like all of us, Patrick was curious as to who Woods whispered to, and asked Faldo if it was him.

“No, I won’t mention the name, but he’s a Masters champion. He said ‘I’m done, my back is done.’ He was in agony, he was in pain, the pain down his legs, there was nothing enjoyable. He couldn’t move.”

It’s not the first time a past champion has alluded to an ominous Champions Dinner regarding Woods. Jack Nicklaus told GOLF.com that he and Woods spoke about how much pain he was in at Augusta, and that it wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.

After that dinner, Woods underwent is fourth back surgery on April 20, 2017, and it was hardly smooth sailing after that. A month later, Woods was arrested for driving under the influence, a scary incident that made returning to golf the least of his priorities. Somehow, just over a year later, Woods finished inside the top six in the final two majors of 2018.

Faldo, who wasn’t as bullish on Woods’ latest comeback back in April, saying he was still “a long way off’ from competing with the best, couldn’t help but praise him for how far he’s come.

“To turn this around, to get this spine fusion, it’s absolutely amazing. So, great on him and obviously great for golf.”

RELATED: No double duty for Tiger Woods at Ryder Cup if he makes team, according to Jim Furyk

The post Nick Faldo: Tiger Woods whispered ‘I’m done’ to fellow Masters champion in 2017 appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

By John Huggan

ST. ANDREWS, Scotland — It was, not surprisingly, a time for looking back rather than forward. One day before the Senior British Open Championship tees-off over the Old Course at St. Andrews, Nick Faldo arrived back in the Auld Grey Toon in a nostalgic mood. Eight months on from his last competitive appearance at the hit-and-giggle Father-Son Challenge in the U.S. and 28 years removed from his Open Championship victory at the Home of Golf, the CBS commentator and knight of the realm took time to reminisce.

Unlike some, Faldo fell in love with golf’s most famous venue “from the word go.” Armed with detailed written instructions provided by the grand old man of British amateur golf, the late Gerald Micklem, the now 61-year-old knew immediately what he was trying to do.

“Gerald gave me all the lines,” said Faldo, who played in eight St. Andrews Opens. “When people think hit it left, he was saying hit it right to give a better angle. He had all the bunker names. So the very first time I played here, I knew where to aim. He gave me all the angles. So I loved it. That was right up my street. There was a way to play the golf course, a route and a plan to it.”

So beloved is St. Andrews—the scene of his only comfortable Open victory in 1990—in Faldo’s mind, he is planning to build a replica of the short 11th hole in his back garden.

“I love the Strath Bunker because it is right in play,” he explained. “A lot of the bunkers here are left-to-right, but that one is right in your face. Plus, it fits in the corner and the shape of my garden. When I hit a couple of great shots there at the Open—I’ve made one or two 2s, there—I thought it would be a nice look.”

Looking back wasn’t the only thing on Faldo’s mind, however. The six-time major champion is also keen to play the Old Course backwards. While it has been eight or nine years since that has been possible, word has it that the St. Andrews Links Management committee is considering a return, maybe in November next year, to what proved to be a very popular feature.

“We were walking down the 12th fairway and turned round to look back,” Faldo said. “There is a bunker [the Admiral’s Bunker] that isn’t normally in play, but if you were hitting from the 13th tee to the 11th green, it’s fantastic. You have that bunker in the middle of the fairway and you have the biggest [Strath] bunker in front of the green. I’ve got to come and play backwards.”

But that is (maybe) for the future. In the meantime, Faldo is one of an army of leading seniors lured to the Senior Open by the opportunity to play the Old Course competitively for perhaps a final time. He isn’t going to win, but he remains hopeful of putting on a jolly good show after what he described as a “couple of decent sessions” with swing coach Nick Bradley. What he was loathed to confirm was whether or not this week might be his farewell to competitive golf in the U.K.

“I’ve got some constructive thoughts going, which is great,” he said. “I’m looking forward to hopefully being half-decent on the course. And I never say never. The great thing about this game is it doesn’t let go. It tortures you. It keeps saying, ‘come on, you can go and practice.’ I still think I can play. I always want to go play. So I’d like to think I can tee it up and actually enjoy myself. That’s the bottom line.”

The post Is Nick Faldo making his competitive finale this week at the Senior British Open? appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

By Alex Myers
Nick Faldo and Greg Norman will forever be intertwined in golf history, most notably for the 1996 Masters. But during the first round of the 147th Open Championship, Faldo found another way to connect the two major champs. Even if he didn’t mention Norman by name.

During Golf Channel’s coverage from Carnoustie, Faldo and Mike Tirico did a segment with the claret jug in which Tirico asked the three-time Open champ if he’d ever drunk from the famed trophy. Tirico was disappointed to learn Faldo hadn’t, but he was pleasantly surprised when he relayed a different type of tale.

“Actually, I’m going to throw somebody under the bus. . . “ Faldo said with a smirk before pausing.

“Go ahead, you’re there now, so. . .” Mike Tirico egged him on.

“The player who won it before me in 1986, no names mentioned, was playing Aussie Rules with it,” Faldo said. “So I lost it for about four months where they had all the dents taken out of it.”

You don’t say? Norman, of course, was the winner in 1986. And he is an Aussie. Hmm. . . Then there’s this supporting evidence from a 2005 BBC Sports story on claret jug shenanigans:

One large dent was rumoured to be the result of a backyard game of Aussie Rules football, though while no-one is naming the culprit, the clues are easy to follow.*

“The first time I got it, I immediately had to give it back for a few months because there were a few dings in it,” said Nick Faldo, Open champion in 1987, 1990 and 1992.

After Greg Norman’s first victory at Turnberry in 1986, the Great White Shark and a group of friends ventured back down to the 18th green in the middle of the night.

“We were drinking champagne out of the Claret Jug and two security guards came along with dogs and were going to kick us off,” said Norman, who also won in 1993.

“Eventually, they realised who we were and what we were doing and I invited them to join us.

“So there we were, all having a drink on the 18th at about one o’clock in the morning, and that’s what it’s all about.”

Norman added with a twinkle: “The best story is a good one but I can’t tell you.”

That’s OK, Greg. We think Sir Nick just did.

The post The Open 2018: Nick Faldo throws Greg Norman “under the bus” with tale of claret jug shenanigans appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.

The series is an R&A-led project that’s aired on the Golf Channel but now also lives on a number of streaming platforms, including Netflix and Sling. The first season kicked-off in 2016, and it’s a pretty simple format: Each 30-minute, documentary-style biography charts the golfing journey of a past British Open winner. It’s cleanly shot, understated and pouring with emotion. The series is, in a word, brilliant. Here’s why:

It’s Brutally Honest
Press conferences are useful for lots of things, but raw honesty isn’t one of them. Talk to players before big tournaments and they’re consumed with the task at hand and busy getting themselves into a certain mindset. Talk to them immediately after, and they usually either stewing or basking in the glory of whatever just happened. Players just aren’t in the mood to be reflective about their journey, and I get that.

It’s why the most candid moments come when players are more removed from competitive settings. You see them on David Feherty’s Golf Channel show, and they’re littered throughout this entire series. There’s Greg Norman talking about his relationship with Nick Faldo—“The rivalry was very real”—or Faldo himself, holding back tears, looking back on his British Open wins. I particularly enjoyed the new episode this year on Nick Price, in which he says at the start of his episode:

“I don’t think you can have good times without having really bad times. If life’s just a bed of roses for you, that’s great, but you’re never going to get anywhere.”

The Stories Are Fascinating
The series’ ability to draw such honesty from its subjects lets it highlight so many truly wonderful stories.

The Rory McIlroy episode provids an astute example. When you look back on his 2014 Open Championship victory and think about “game-changing” moments, you may think of Sergio Garcia’s bunker-induced collapse. McIlroy, in his episode, explains in fascinating detail that his most important shot of the week was his “perfect” approach into the second hole on Thursday.

To most of us, it was little more than a great shot early in the tournament. To Rory, it was defining moment. And the series is packed with gold like that. When Norman talks about his first Open win in 1986, he describes the “positive energy” that surrounded him all week. When Lee Trevino recounts being struck by lightning early in his career, he talks of moving towards bright light, surrounded by faces of people he loves.

You simply don’t hear golfers speak like this very often. When they do, it pulls you in, and it’s utterly riveting.

It Brings You On A Journey
The best part of this entire series is the brief but wonderful journey it brings viewers on. The archived footage is key to it all: Video of young Rory opening presents on Christmas Day, rejoicing over a new Game Boy, as the voice of the man today thanks his parents for their sacrifices. Or of Faldo recounting life at the lowest ebb of his career as sensational old tabloid press clips fly by.

The series is relentlessly single-minded, but it couldn’t work any other way. Victories in other majors barely warrant a passing mention, because the series simply isn’t about that. It’s about the highs and lows, the hopes and dreams. Battling the press, the course, your own demons. It is, simply, players’ journey to becoming the champion golfer of the year.

SEASON 1
Tiger Woods
Greg Norman
Jack Nicklaus
Ernie Els
Darren Clarke
Tom Watson

SEASON 2
Nick Faldo
Lee Trevino
Gary Player
Padraig Harrington
Henrik Stenson
Rory McIlroy

SEASON 3 (airing this summer on Golf Channel)
Nick Price
Paul Lawrie

The post Open 2018: Why you should be binge-watching ‘Chronicles of a Champion Golfer’ appeared first on Golf Digest Middle East.