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Monday afternoon at the Old Course, as the townspeople of St. Andrews regained their property and their sanity, a handful of the luckiest folks in Fife finished up their rounds. With all the Open Championship regalia still intact, a curious scene unfolded at the 1st and 18th. At the top of the buoyantly yellow leaderboards, a handful of workers slowly and quietly began to remove the names and numbers that defined the 150th edition of this event. It was a reminder that even the pomp and circumstance of a historical Open eventually fades away.
This was the same leaderboard Rory McIlroy said he gazed upon from his hotel room at night, hopeful that his name would stay at the top of a structure that now contains nary a name at all.
The Monday after majors is always sobering and maybe even hollow. There is so much anticipation, so much energy, so many years fed into the previous week that the end can leave everyone involved in a staggered state of stupor. It seems unfair that the last two holes of majors take just as much time as the first two, and then it’s suddenly over with 262 days standing between Sunday of The Open and Thursday of the 2023 Masters.
Is anyone is ready for the nine months in between?
“Golf in the Kingdom” by Michael Murphy is the type of book in which the title tells you all you need to know. Though the book is great and critically acclaimed, the synopsis can be found in that four-word title. Those words likely evoke either one of the great experiences of your life or represents the hope of what’s to come. Scotland, yes, but also more broadly the Kingdom. There may have never been a grander union between land and sport and man.
That phrase, much like the sport at a professional level, is completely under siege. If the folks running the now-ephemeral LIV Golf have their way, Golf in the Kingdom might mean something different over the next 20 years than it has for the…
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Source : cbssports
