Mailbag: Open Championship Thoughts, English Breakfast, An Ideal Rota, and More

Welcome back to the KVV Mailbag at Fried Egg Golf, the place where I will attempt to answer your smartest, your dumbest, your funniest, and your weirdest questions, whether they are golf-related or something else entirely. If you have a question you’d like to have answered in a future mailbag, please send it to kvv@thefriedegg.com. This Open Championship installment is sponsored by Golf Pride, which makes excellent grips that have been in my bag going on a decade. 

‍English or Scottish breakfast? Your feelings on haggis? –Steven Downey

Apologies to my English and Scottish friends, but I would like to choose neither. I love our dear friends in the United Kingdom, but I do not understand your breakfast culture at all. I feel traumatized by baked beans. Pudding gives me hives. A random boiled tomato? I like tomatoes and this still feels like an assault. 

I will say, I do like haggis. I had a haggis roll at the turn on the New Course two years ago that I still think about. Delicious. 

Need some commentary on the Brits' feelings on the Three Lions (English national soccer team). Either will be very happy or very sad by the time you get there. Is it coming home? –Tommy McGuane

I am really excited to watch the football this evening! You can tell the entire country is trying to be optimistic but also preparing to be devastated. It’s an extremely English mentality. A few weeks ago, I asked Rory McIlroy if he thought England had a chance to win the World Cup for the first time since 1966. “I think they do, and that’s the problem,” he said. “We’re set up for more heartbreak.” (Remember, Rory grew up a Manchester United fan with an English passport, even though he played golf in the Olympics for Ireland.) My colleague Brendan Porath and I had a really interesting discussion with a cafe owner this week who said he was only cheering for Liverpool players, not the actual English national team. I am ashamed I did not know this was a thing, the divided loyalties of Liverpool folk, that they operate as their own emotional nation-state. This is why traveling the world is important! There are nuances to everything. 

As much as I like Lionel Messi, I plan to cheer heartily for England this evening. Harry Kane and Jude Bellingham seem like good blokes. I think you can argue that the Red Sox and Cubs fanbases got significantly more annoying when they finally won a championship, but I would still like to see the trophy “come home,” as they say here. 

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Is the up-and-down by Spieth on the 13th (after hitting his approach following the infamous drop) the most underrated part of his victory in 2017? –Jeff Adams 

It’s an incredible up-and-down, maybe the best since Seve hit among the parked cars at Royal Lytham & St. Anne’s. (I will note that Seve made a birdie, not a bogey.) My favorite detail about the shot from the driving range is that Michael Greller knew that Spieth would want to hit 3-wood if he told him the true yardage, so he gave him an estimate to the green that he knew was a lie, knowing it was way better to be short than long. Talk about knowing the psychology of your player! I actually think the most underrated part of the chaos is what happened on the next hole, where Spieth nearly made a hole-in-one with a 6-iron. It’s the strangest sequence of events I’ve ever witnessed on a golf course. I walked with Spieth that day and the first 12 holes felt like a funeral. I spent the first two hours wrestling with how I was going to write about another Spieth collapse in a major. By the time I sat down at my computer that evening, I was convinced he was the American Seve. It all feels like a lifetime ago now. 

What course globally would be the funniest to receive "Royal" status? Royal Lost Marsh has a nice ring to it. —Steve Carlson

On our Open Championship preview podcast, Andy was making fun of the fact that Royal Birkdale just offered Speith and Justin Rose honorary memberships. I joked that Lost Marsh (if they are listening) should offer Andy an honorary membership after all the free promotion he’s given it as America’s most unserious golf course, and he admitted he would accept it. So now I’m putting it in print to try and will that into existence. 

It’s always funny to me when clubs in America earn the “Royal” designation. There is actually one not far from me in Baltimore, Royal Manchester Golf Links in Mt. Wolf, Pennsylvania. From what I can tell, they just decided to give themselves a Royal title. There is no official connection to the Royal Family. It was recently embroiled in a fight with the locals about the owner’s desire to turn it into a data center. The community rose up and voted it down. Despite the stolen valor of fake royalty, I still like to imagine King Charles pumping his fist when he learned of the news. 

Does Birkdale stink? Not completely, of course, but... just a little? —Garrett Morrison

This is a cheeky move by my colleague Garrett, sneaking this question into the mailbag, posing it like a professor instead of taking the stance I suspect he wants to take (that it actually stinks). 

My honest answer is no, it doesn’t stink, but it doesn’t have any truly memorable holes. The recent changes have gotten pretty poor reviews in private from the players. One player told me this week the new 15th hole is a travesty, particularly when the tees are back. It’s weird that several of the most iconic shots (Arnold Palmer hitting it out of a bush; Justin Rose holing out on 18 in 1998; Jordan Spieth nearly making an ace with a 6-iron) can no longer be hit because of changes to the course. But the game was meant to evolve, I suppose. 

Whether you love Birkdale or think it kind of stinks, it’s going to stay a part of the rota. It’s the place where the Open gets the most fans outside of St. Andrews, and it has a long list of great players who have won here. I worry that if we say everything stinks, we begin to lose the plot a little. It’s proven to be a good championship venue. Let’s see how it holds up this week before we pass (definitive) judgement.

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How are Americans (players, fans, media) received by the folks in the British Isles, generally?  Has this changed over time in your experience? —Brett Blevins

I think the reception is always incredibly warm. Outside of breakfast options and the terrible iced coffee, I have nothing but nice things to say about the English. I have been to some seedy parts of London for an ESPN story I worked on about domestic terrorism, so I’m not naive to the harder edge of the country, but in general I find people here to be friendly and funny and self-deprecating in the best ways. Even though Americans have a complicated reputation around the world at the moment, most sensible people don’t hold me responsible for policy decisions outside my control, particularly if I’m trying to play golf or buy a pint in a pub. 

Golf has its faults, but there is an undercurrent of politeness that is ingrained into its DNA, and so in golf spaces, I rarely sense any tension. I’m always taken aback by how many people reach out with an offer to host me at their club when I’m here for the Open. It’s such a warm and appreciated gesture, even when I can’t make it. And the people who do recognize me don’t hold me accountable for my terrible impressions on podcasts, and that’s comforting. 

In the spirit of David Letterman, what are KVV's Top 10 Things About the Open Championship? —Chris Kindred

I loved Letterman as a kid, so I cannot resist this question. I’m going to cut it down to five, however, just for the sake of brevity. 

5. Hanging out in the fan village, watching golf on giant screens with lots of beer and lots of other fans. I’m not sure how fun this will be this year because it’s so hot, but I love the atmosphere. There are often giant pillows you can lie on, and it’s not only fun to watch the golf, but it’s fun to people-watch. You haven’t seen true athleticism until you’ve seen an Englishman or Irishman or  Scot balancing four beers in his arms as he returns to his friends. 

4. Maybe it’s cliché or snobbery, but it’s refreshing that no one yells “I’ve abandoned my child” or “give me back my son” or whatever stupid shit they think will make people laugh when someone hits a tee ball. The idea that everyone over here is smart and understands “proper golf” is a tad overstated, but the crowds are generally great. When I was following Rory last year at Royal Portrush for a day, two Irish fans asked my wife (with me following golf for the first time) if she could see okay. They offered to switch with her so she could get closer to the rope line. That’s not something I think would happen in the U.S. 

3. Downwind shots that bounce run 100 yards after they land. Possibly the best thing in golf. The most creative, satisfying, fun shot to watch (or hit) and it’s essential here. 

2. It stays light out until 10:30 p.m. in the summer. I don’t think there is a better feeling than sitting outside a pub, after a long day at the course, and the light is barely hanging on but still there, and you’ve got a beer in your hands and friends at your table. It’s sublime. 

1. “And the winner of the gold medal, the Champion Golfer of the Year…” It’s such a simple, eloquent phrase. I don’t care if it’s cheesy, it’s one of my favorite things in sports. There is a tinge of sadness to it as well, knowing that it’s the end of major season. But I love that it’s one of the rituals that have endured over time. 

Given the ever-increasing golf tourism from the United States, why does it seem that England is a distant third in the golf tourists' imagination? Scotland, Ireland, and more recently Northern Ireland seem to have found a place in the American tourist’s soul while England leaves them flat. Is there something about the English golf culture or golf courses that is not resonating with American travelers? —Jack Ryder

It’s a good question. I actually think writers are partly to blame. How many books or articles have you read about someone trying to find the soul of the game by journeying to Ireland or Scotland? Dozens of books and countless articles. There are almost none about England. I think — fair or unfair — English golf courses have the reputation of being a bit less welcoming to American tourists. It’s also fair to say that Scottish and Irish clubs used to need the money. Even a decade ago, a lot of clubs were running into financial issues before American tourists got sentimental about the motherland and started subsidizing clubs by paying hundreds of pounds for a tee time. I think the English would also agree that the Irish and the Scots are happy to turn on the charm for Americans if it means they’d break out their wallet and spread the gospel. 

Personally, I love English golf. I’ve played Royal Liverpool, Formby, Royal Birkdale, West Lancs, Walton Heath, and St. George’s Hill, and I’ve loved them all. If I put together a bucket list of places I most want to play someday, Swinley Forest, Woking, Sunningdale, Royal West Norfolk, Silloth-on-Solway, and Rye would all be high on my list. 

In the U.S., venerable old clubs have moved towards restorations, aiming to capture the original strategic intent and design based on old aerials. In the UK, similar clubs care less about preserving the original designs much more often, creating new holes and ditching the originals. Why the dichotomy between the old and new world? –Andrew Maliniak

It’s an interesting observation. 

Since this is not my area of expertise, I asked my colleague Garrett Morrison for his thoughts because I think he was able to offer a much better answer. 

Garrett: I often think about something English golf architect Clyde Johnson told me two years ago about the differences between British and American attitudes toward golf courses. “Culturally,” he said, “I don’t think there is the same expectation here that golf courses are fixed in one perfect moment in time. They are seen as more organic, living things — just a place to play the game.”

I gather that this is especially true of well-known British links courses, many of which were laid out in the 1800s and have been in a continual state of evolution ever since. In the U.S., most of the greatest courses were built between 1910 and 1930 by identifiable geniuses: C.B. Macdonald, Seth Raynor, Donald Ross, Alister MacKenzie, A.W. Tillinghast, William Flynn, etc. For these clubs, the decision to turn back the clock to an original, surpassingly brilliant design feels easy. For many old links courses, that decision is far more complicated. How would one even go about a “restoration” of the Old Course at St. Andrews? At which point in its intricate, 600-some-year history was the course at its best? Impossible to say.

I do wish some links clubs would take the notion of restoration more seriously. Royal Portrush and Royal Livepool, for instance, could probably do more to preserve Harry Colt’s work. In general, though, it’s understandable that British golfers aren’t hugely keen on restoration. They tend to view their links courses as ever-changing grounds for the game as opposed to precious works of art in need of defense. 

Build your own 15-year rota. —AJ McKnight

Let’s say I have total carte blanche here. I’ve been declared the Supreme Ruler of the R&A and people have to do whatever I say, much like King George III. 

2027 — Old Course at St. Andrews (Duh.
2028 — Royal Lytham & St. Annes (Keeping this on the schedule because it’s cool.)
2029 — Muirfield (It’s time.)
2030 — Prestwick (The first rollback Open. Also the first modern Open that can’t have grandstands. Or parking. Or food. It will lose a hundred million pounds.) 
2031 — Carnoustie (Not my favorite, but let’s challenge these guys.) 
2032 — Royal County Down (Once again, very funny to think about how the infrastructure would fit here. But I’m the mad king so I do not care.) 
2033 — Old Course at St. Andrews (Here is the twist: we play two days in reverse)
2034 — Portmarnock (Ireland and England, reunited and it feels so good)
2035 — Sunningdale Old (We’ve returned to wooden drivers with steel shafts.) 
2036 — Royal Melbourne (Look, once we took this thing to Ireland, all the former British colonies are now on the table.)
2037 — Royal Birkdale (The 20th anniversary of Spieth’s bogey)
2038 — New Course at St. Andrews (Give little brother some time in the spotlight.)
2039 — North Berwick (Second rollback; we’re now playing wound balls)
2040 — St. Andrews (Hickories and featheries)
2041 — Turnberry

‍If you have a question for a future mailbag, send a question to kvv@thefriedegg.com.