So where do we find ourselves today? In a very happy place, that’s where.
It is seven days after a thrilling Solheim Cup ended in Ohio and 11 days before a much-anticipated Ryder Cup begins in Wisconsin. In the middle of the 19th century, Robert Browning, the English poet, wrote his ode to England with its famous opening lines “Oh, to be in England ... Now that April’s there ... ” Let’s paraphrase that (considerably and with apologies) and say: “Oh, to have been in the US for these three weeks in September.”
Two match-play events in such a short space of time is almost too much of a good thing but we will do our best to cope. COVID-19 has dominated our thoughts for so long but it has been banished lately, buried beneath the exciting aftermath of one match-play event and momentarily eclipsed in the buildup to another. At this moment in professional golf, men’s and women’s, we are reminded of the attractions of match-play golf and at the same time of how little match-play golf is played.
Match play versus stroke play is red wine versus white, links courses versus parkland, white wooden tees versus plastic, cashmere versus merino ...
Match play versus stroke play is red wine versus white, links courses versus parkland, white wooden tees versus plastic, cashmere versus merino, left brain versus right brain, prosecco versus champagne. You might say it’s Mozart versus Wagner, rugby versus football, meat versus fish, day versus night.
Match play is red-blooded, nerve-wracking, a form of golf that tests the soul of a player as much as the skill. Stroke play is cold and unyielding, a battle between a golfer and an inanimate golf course, the score recorded on a miserable piece of cardboard. Win a hole at match play and the spirits rise, the head goes up, the walk becomes springier. Score a birdie at stroke play and your reward is a neatly-written figure noted down on that dratted piece of cardboard which, if it is raining, is slowly disintegrating in your hand. This is followed by the thought: “Don’t mess up the next hole.”
Even better, make a mess of one hole at match play and disappointing as it is, the game goes on. You have only lost one hole. The gig is not over. At stroke play, whatever your handicap, every stroke counts. Run up a double bogey on the first hole of a round and what follows could well be purgatory.
That English amateur had it right more than 100 years ago when he described match play as big-game hunting, stroke play as so much target shooting. How lucky we are to be in the middle of a match-play festival. Would that there could be more of it.
E-MAIL JOHN
John Hopkins