Behind the Ryder Cup E-Book

Peter Burns

• Herausgeber: Arena Sport
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 1163

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Enter the locker room: this is a history of the Ryder Cup like you have never experienced it before. From the origin matches that preceded the first official trans-Atlantic encounter between Britain and America at Worcester Country Club in 1927, all the way through to the fortieth installment at Gleneagles in 2014, this is the complete history of the Ryder Cup – told by the men who have been there and done it. With exhaustive research and exclusive new material garnered from interviews with players and captains from across the decades, Behind the Ryder Cup unveils the compelling truth of what it means to play in golf's biggest match-play event, where greats of the game have crumbled under pressure while others have carved their names into sporting legend.

Leseprobe

First published in 2016 byPOLARIS PUBLISHING LTDc/o Turcan ConnellPrinces Exchange1 Earl Grey StreetEdinburghEH3 9EE

in association with

ARENA SPORTAn imprint of Birlinn LimitedWest Newington House10 Newington RoadEdinburghEH9 1QS

www.polarispublishing.comwww.arenasportbooks.co.uk

Text copyright © Peter Burns and Ed Hodge 2016

Every effort has been made to trace copyright holders and obtain their permission for the use of copyright material. The publisher apologises for any errors or omissions and would be grateful if notified of any corrections that should be incorporated in future reprints or editions of this book.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form without the express written permission of the publisher.

HARDBACK ISBN: 9781909715318TRADE PAPERBACK ISNB: 9781909715455EBOOK ISBN: 9780857908858

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication DataA catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Designed and typeset by Polaris Publishing, Edinburgh

Printed and bound by arrangement with Asia Pacific Offset

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

GENESIS

ONE

1927, WORCESTER COUNTRY CLUB. WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS

TWO

1929, MOORTOWN GOLF CLUB. LEEDS, ENGLAND

THREE

1931, SCIOTO COUNTRY CLUB. COLUMBUS, OHIO

FOUR

1933, SOUTHPORT AND AINSDALE GOLF CLUB. SOUTHPORT, ENGLAND

FIVE

1935, RIDGEWOOD COUNTRY CLUB. RIDGEWOOD, NEW JERSEY

SIX

1937, SOUTHPORT AND AINSDALE GOLF CLUB. SOUTHPORT, ENGLAND

SEVEN

1947, PORTLAND GOLF CLUB. PORTLAND, OREGON

EIGHT

1949, GANTON GOLF CLUB. SCARBOROUGH, ENGLAND

NINE

1951, PINEHURST COUNTRY CLUB. PINEHURST, NORTH CAROLINA

TEN

1953, WENTWORTH GOLF CLUB. WENTWORTH, ENGLAND

ELEVEN

1955, THUNDERBIRD COUNTRY CLUB. PALM SPRINGS, CALIFORNIA

TWELVE

1957, LINDRICK GOLF CLUB. YORKSHIRE, ENGLAND

THIRTEEN

1959, ELDORADO COUNTRY CLUB. PALM DESERT, CALIFORNIA

FOURTEEN

1961, ROYAL LYTHAM AND ST ANNES. ST ANNES, ENGLAND

FIFTEEN

1963, EAST LAKE COUNTRY CLUB. ATLANTA, GEORGIA

SIXTEEN

1965, ROYAL BIRKDALE GOLF CLUB. SOUTHPORT, ENGLAND

SEVENTEEN

1967, CHAMPIONS GOLF CLUB. HOUSTON, TEXAS

EIGHTEEN

1969, ROYAL BIRKDALE GOLF CLUB. SOUTHPORT, ENGLAND

NINETEEN

1971, OLD WARSON COUNTRY CLUB. ST LOUIS, MISSOURI

TWENTY

1973, MUIRFIELD. EAST LOTHIAN, SCOTLAND

TWENTY-ONE

1975, LAUREL VALLEY GOLF CLUB. LIGONIER, PENNSYLVANIA

TWENTY-TWO

1977, ROYAL LYTHAM AND ST. ANNES. ST. ANNES, ENGLAND

TWENTY-THREE

1979, THE GREENBRIER. WHITE SULPHER SPRINGS, WEST VIRGINIA

TWENTY-FOUR

1981, WALTON HEATH GOLF CLUB. SURREY, ENGLAND

TWENTY-FIVE

1983, PGA NATIONAL GOLF CLUB. PALM BEACH GARDENS, FLORIDA

TWENTY-SIX

1985, THE BELFRY. SUTTON COLDFIELD, ENGLAND

TWENTY-SEVEN

1987, MUIRFIELD VILLAGE GC. DUBLIN, OHIO

TWENTY-EIGHT

1989, THE BELFRY. SUTTON COLDFIELD, ENGLAND

TWENTY-NINE

1991, THE OCEAN COURSE. KIAWAH ISLAND, SOUTH CAROLINA

THIRTY

1993, THE BELFRY. SUTTON COLDFIELD, ENGLAND

THIRTY-ONE

1995, OAK HILL COUNTRY CLUB. ROCHESTER, NEW YORK

THIRTY-TWO

1997, VALDERRAMA GOLF CLUB. SOTOGRANDE, SPAIN

THIRTY-THREE

1999, THE COUNTRY CLUB. BROOKLINE, MASSACHUSETTS

THIRTY-FOUR

2002, THE BELFRY. SUTTON COLDFIELD, ENGLAND

THIRTY-FIVE

2004, OAKLAND HILLS COUNTRY CLUB, BLOOMFIELD TOWNSHIP, MICHIGAN

THIRTY-SIX

2006, THE K CLUB. STRAFFAN, COUNTY KILDARE, IRELAND

THIRTY-SEVEN

2008, VALHALLA GOLF CLUB. LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY

THIRTY-EIGHT

2010, CELTIC MANOR RESORT. NEWPORT, WALES

THIRTY-NINE

2012, MEDINAH COUNTRY CLUB. MEDINAH, ILLINOIS

FORTY

2014, GLENEAGLES HOTEL. PERTHSHIRE, SCOTLAND

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Scores of books have been written on the history of the Ryder Cup and of the captains and players who have played in it. Invariably these have been written from the outside looking in. This book, in contrast, looks to tell the history of the Ryder Cup in the words of the men who have been there and done it, told from within the rarefied atmosphere of the team room, locker room and inside the ropes, right in the heat of the action. Like a fantasy dinner party, it would be wonderful to be able to sit down with all the greats who have contested for that gorgeous little golden cup from across the ages and hear them reminisce about their experiences. That scenario is of course impossible – but perhaps this book is the next best thing. We hope you enjoy.

While a more complete bibliography is available at the end of this book, special thanks must be paid for extended extract permission to the Fundación Seve Ballesteros for use of material from Seve: The Autobiography by Seve Ballesteros; Paul Azinger and Rich Braund for use of material from Cracking the Code: The Winning Ryder Cup Strategy, Make It Work For You; RLR Associates Ltd and Diversion Books for use of material from The Ryder Cup: Golf’s Greatest Event by Bob Bubka and Tom Clavin; to Atlantic Books for use of material from Two Tribes: The Rebirth of the Ryder Cup by Gavin Newsham; HarperCollins Publishers for use of material from Us Against Them: An Oral History of the Ryder Cup by Robin McMillan; Orion Books for use of material from Faldo: In Search of Perfection by Nick Faldo; and Icon Books for use of material from The Ryder Cup: A History 1927-2014 by Peter Pugh, Henry Lord.

Special thanks also to David KC Wright, the PGA Historian; Steve Doughty, European Tour media official/researcher; Bob Denney, PGA Historian, The PGA of America; Alex Podlogar, Media Relations Manager, Pinehurst Resort & Country Club; Shannon J. Doody, Archivist, Film & Video Archives, USGA; Vicky Cuming at IMG; Michael McEwan at Bunkered Magazine; Ian Greensill; and Keith Rose.

The authors would like to thank everyone who has given their time so generously to assist in the preparation of this book. Those whom we interviewed are too many to name individually but their thoughts are included in the pages which follow.

Peter Burns and Ed Hodge, 2016

For Isla and HectorPB

For Iona, Andrew and KirstyEH

Samuel Ryder

GENESIS

1921

Gleneagles Hotel. Perthshire, Scotland

1926

Wentworth Golf Club. Surrey, England

June, 1921.

On the southern edge of the Scottish Highlands, set amid rolling Perthshire hills dappled by purple heather, sat the skeletal structure of the Gleneagles Hotel – a building that, after its completion in 1924, would come to be known as the ‘Palace in the Glen’.

Although the hotel was still under construction on this bright summer’s day, the James Braid-designed King’s Course was open for play and it was here that a match was about to commence that would prove seismic in its historical significance – the first to pitch professional golfers from the United States of America against their counterparts from Great Britain.

There is an elegant synergy that this event, which was the inspiration for the Ryder Cup, took place with a half-built hotel dominating the backdrop. In the years that followed, the hotel was completed and Samuel Ryder, who was a spectator at Gleneagles, commissioned a golden trophy as the spoils of a new competition which was officially launched at Worcester Country Club, located fifty miles from Boston, in 1927. This synergy was neatly bookended when the fortieth edition of the Ryder Cup returned to its spiritual roots at Gleneagles in 2014.

There remains some dispute as to whose idea it was to stage this contest between professionals from either side of the Atlantic. With the Walker Cup having been established for amateurs (the first Walker Cup was played in 1921 at Royal Liverpool but not officially ‘launched’ until the following year) it was felt that a comparable event should be created for the professionals. The idea of doing so has been attributed to both Sylvanus P. Jermain, a former President of the Inverness Golf Club in Ohio (which had hosted the 1920 US Open), as well as to James Harnett, Golf Illustrated’s circulation manager, who had launched an initiative in the magazine to raise funds to send US players to Britain for an international match (and so, in turn, increase sales of the magazine). America’s great golfing showman, Walter Hagen, was one of the most high-profile supporters of Golf Illustrated’s initiative, but the campaign failed to hit the requisite funding target and was temporarily abandoned. The general interest in the concept had been duly noted, however, and on 15 December 1920, the US PGA agreed to subsidise the shortfall. The match was on.

The only thing left to decide was where in the UK the match would take place. With the Open being held at St Andrews on 23–25 June 1921, the British PGA looked around for a nearby tournament that could host the contest – and discovered that there was a professional event being held at Gleneagles that more than fitted the bill. The tournament in question was sponsored by the Glasgow Herald newspaper and held at the King’s Course with a purse of 1,000 guineas. Although the course, which was opened in May 1919, was a little unrefined at the time (Bernard Darwin of The Times described it as ‘rather ragged in appearance, thebunkers look unkempt and the greens carry more course grass than one likes to see’), the level of prize money and its proximity and timing to the Open attracted all the big names in British golf, including the illustrious figures of Harry Vardon, James Braid, John Henry Taylor (this triumvirate were widely regarded as the top three golfers in the country), Abe Mitchell, George Duncan, Ted Ray and Arthur Havers, and supported by the less well-known Josh Taylor, James Ockenden and James Sherlock. It was agreed that the international competition would be tagged onto the Glasgow Herald tournament and played before it on 6 June.

After some six arduous ocean days, the American team arrived at Southampton the week before the Glasgow Herald event and travelled north by sleeper train to Glasgow. But any hope of a relaxing stay to rest body and soul was short-lived. With the hotel still under construction, the visiting side were billeted in five waterless railway carriages moved into a siding at the station close to the village of Auchtermuchty in Fife. This meant that the players were forced to fetch and carry their own water for much of the week and commute to Gleneagles each day. It was a barely hospitable welcome and the American players were understandably unimpressed with the arrangements.

The ‘international challenge’ match was contested over fifteen points, with five foursome matches in the morning and ten singles matches in the afternoon. While the home team contained the cream of British golf, the American team wasn’t nearly as strong, despite its efforts being spearheaded by Walter Hagen; it was also something of a mixed bag as it included four expatriate Scotsmen in the shape of St Andrews’ Jock Hutchison, the holder of the US PGA title and soon to be the 1921 Open champion, Fred McLeod of North Berwick, the 1908 US Open champion, Clarence Hackney from Carnoustie and Harry Hampton of Montrose alongside homegrown talents Emmet French, Charles Hoffner, Tom Kerrigan, George McLean, William Mehlhorn, and Wilfrid Reid.

Duncan and Mitchell were paired against Hutchison and Hagen for the opening morning foursomes match which proved to be a hugely competitive tussle and which was ultimately halved. ‘It was perhaps the most attractive match of the whole day,’ wrote the Glasgow Herald. ‘It was such an excellent fight, with our men never once getting their heads in front, standing even two down with only five to play, and Duncan on the home green bringing off a long putt to save the hole, and with it the match.’ Vardon and Ray, meanwhile, used their considerable experience to dismantle the young US pair French and Kerrigan 5&4.

Braid and Taylor were up next against the expat Scots, McLeod and Hackney. Taylor played sublimely while Braid used his intimate knowledge of the course (as its designer) to see off the significant challenge from their opponents to also secure a valuable half.

On a glorious morning when, as The Scotsman newspaper described it, ‘the sun lit up the golden glory of the gorse’, Britain pushed this 2–1 advantage into a commanding 4–1 lead by lunch as Havers (who would win the Open in 1923) and James Ockenden, thanks to his short game prowess, completed an emphatic 6&5 demolition of Wilfrid Reid and George McLean, before James Sherlock and Josh Taylor beat Charles Hoffner and Mehlhorn by a solitary hole.

In desperate need of establishing momentum in the singles, Hagen packed his best players at the top of the draw, sending Hutchison out first before following himself. These were two games that America simply had to win, but they failed to gain the impetus they so sorely needed as Hutchison fell 2&1 to Duncan, and Hagen could only manage a half with Mitchell. Hopes were briefly kindled when French and McLeod defeated Ray and Taylor respectively, but thesevictories proved to little avail as Vardon saw off the gallant Kerrigan 3&1 (hitting only 64 shots over the seventeen holes played) and Braid beat Hackney 5&4. The Scotsman reported: ‘The feature of the day was the superb play of the “old guard”. Braid and Vardon produced sterling golf, which nobody probably could have beaten. The golf of Vardon and Braid was astonishing for men of fifty-one.’

Havers lost to Reid for a consolation point for the Americans, but Ockenden, Sherlock and Josh Taylor won the remaining three matches to rack up something of a rout for the home team. Nine wins, three defeats and three halved matches – Great Britain had overwhelmed America by the score of 9–3 (no half points were awarded).

‘Britain has come out with flying colours from the first American professional challenge,’ reported the Glasgow Herald’s ‘Special Correspondent’. ‘Today over this magnificent and testing course, a team of America’s best professionals met and were beaten by ten of our own men … throughout the day there was bright sunshine, which was tempered by a slight breeze. Under these genial conditions, the course was seen at its best [by] the large crowds that gathered to witness the play.’

Press reports, however, were far from extensive in nature. If there was an overall lack of commercial success, it’s tempered by the fact it was 1921 and these were humble, low-key origins of international rivalry. Certainly, few could have predicted the eventual acceleration to the Ryder Cup drama of the modern day, the unforgettable, edge-of-the-seat, riveting combat.

On the night of 6 June 1921, the leading golf professionals of Britain and America toasted the match. It was agreed the contest should be repeated, that there was the potential for more.

A seed had been planted. Could it blossom?

The Glasgow Herald Tournament continued for a number of years, but the Britain–US aspect was dropped. Essentially, the international match played at Gleneagles had not sufficiently caught the public’s imagination. But it wasn’t doomed to fail, with Hagen continuing to support the idea.

Jock Hutchison of the USA tees off in 1921, with the Gleneagles hotel still under construction in the background.

Ironically, a seed merchant helped the pro match to flower. Enter Samuel Ryder and his younger brother, James. In St Albans, Hertfordshire, the pair had built up a successful business selling penny seed packets through the post to garden lovers. A devoted Christian and workaholic, Samuel was advised by his church minister to play golf for exercise and relaxation. He began to play relatively late in life in his early fifties and paid the local club professional in 1909 to come to his house six days a week to give him lessons. Within a year, he was off a single figure handicap, was accepted at the local club, Verulam, and within another year was elected captain. In the early1920s, Ryder’s business, the Heath & Heather Company, sponsored professional tournaments, including matches between British and American players, as a means of business promotion and to assist professionals. One was held at Verulam in 1923, attracting the leading British pros, such as Braid, the Verulam course architect, Vardon and Duncan, thanks to a first prize that was only £5 less than the winner of the Open received. Abe Mitchell, the professional at North Foreland in Kent, also competed.

Mitchell was one of the golfing greats of the era. Born in Sussex in 1887, he went on to become one of England’s most famous professional golfers. An accomplished singles and doubles player, during his lifetime he partnered many notable players including the future king, Edward, Prince of Wales, and a future prime minister, Winston Churchill. He was once described by Henry Longhurst, the renowned British golf writer and commentator, as ‘the finest golfer never to win the Open Championship’ and could still be considered the best player never to have won a Major. Ryder and Mitchell became friends with the latter employed from 1925 as the former’s personal tutor for a generous and then princely annual fee of £500 per year. Consequently, Ryder’s interest and fascination in the pro game increased and he, among others, had long harboured plans to create an ‘annual’ match between the leading professionals of Great Britain and America, building on what had been enjoyed at Gleneagles.

The 1921 British team. Standing (left to right): J Taylor, JH Taylor, A Mitchell, JG Sherlock, J Ockenden, H Vardon, AG Havers. Sitting (left to right): G Duncan, J Braid, E Ray

Official papers from the PGA Minute Book, kept at their headquarters at the Belfry, reveal the earliest records proposing such a game came in March 1926. The minutes of a committee meeting on 29 March state: ‘A letter was read from the Secretary of the St George’s Hill Golf Club dated 1 March setting out the conditions of a match to be played against a team of four American Professionals selected by Walter Hagen, and asking for approval of the same, also requesting the Association to select the British team and to fix a date for playing the match. After considerable discussion the Secretary was instructed to write agreeing the termsand conditions of the proposed match and accepting the responsibility of the selection of the team and suggesting the date June fourth and fifth.’

In April 1926, a match over thirty-six holes at St George’s Hill, in Surrey, followed the next day by thirty-six holes at Wentworth was discussed. St George’s Hill had held challenge matches already and it was a popular venue. The British soon sent an invitation to their American counterparts to take part in the match, but it was the nearby new East Course at Wentworth which was chosen for the two-day contest. It was to be played out before the Americans’ attempted qualification at Sunningdale for the Open Championship, being staged in the north-west at Royal Lytham and St Annes. Hagen jumped at the opportunity to act as captain and put a team together, with ten players on each side rather than the initially proposed four.

The 1921 American team. Standing (left to right): W Hagen, W Mehlhorn, C Hoffner, F McLeod, T Kerrigan, G McLean. Sitting (left to right): E French, J Hutchison, C Hackney, WE Reid

Here was to be the long-awaited first ‘official’ match, held on 4–5 June 1926 on the East Course at Wentworth – only for the most significant British labour dispute of the twentieth century to dash hopes. Owing to the uncertainty of the situation following the General Strike in May 1926, it was unknown up to a few weeks before the event was to start how many Americans would travel. Rather than cancelling the contest, the United States team, with Ryder’s input, invited other players to make up the numbers – pulling in four expatriate Brits and one Australian. They probably wondered why they bothered … the Anglo-American match resulted in an astonishing 13½–1½ success for the hosts. ‘Under the circumstances the Wentworth Club provided the British players with gold medals to mark the inauguration of the great international match,’ wrote Golf Illustrated magazine. It caught public attention, the match was fully reported in The Times, but as golf was still considered a pastime exclusive to the privileged classes, it achieved little note elsewhere. As a result of the absence of a ‘full’ US team, the US PGA refused to sanction the contest as the first ‘official’ Ryder Cup match. Yet Ryder, now aged 68, still watched on among the galleries enthralled, particularly delighted to see Mitchell prove the star for the Brits. He teamed up with George Duncan in the foursomes for an emphatic and frankly embarrassing 9&8 win against the legendary Hagen and defending Open champion Jim Barnes, and then beat Barnes by another huge margin, 8&7, in the singles. Ryder enjoyed the obvious camaraderie between the two teams, but he was disappointed the sides did not mix socially before or after the match – a situation he sought to put right.

So it could be said the Ryder Cup, like many good ideas, then came to fruition from a relaxed conversation in a clubhouse, this one at Wentworth. As hosts, the British celebrated their win in the typical style of the day – with a pot of tea and a round of sandwiches. Here, Ryder congratulated both sides on their play and wondered why such a match was not organised more often, remarking to Duncan, Mitchell, Hagen and Emmet French: ‘We must do this again.’ A BBC Radio broadcast from Ryder was even more enlightening: ‘I trust that the effect of this match will be to influence a cordial, friendly, and peaceful feeling throughout the whole civilised world … I look upon the Royal and Ancient game as being a powerful force that influences the best things in humanity.’ Duncan suggested that if there were a trophy to be played for, the competition might become a regular event. Between them they sketched plans and Ryder, being the businessman he was, made immediate enquiries with the PGA. He was soon encouraged by their backing for such a tournament. Ryder commissioned a solid gold trophy, topped off with a figure of a golfer modelled on Ryder’s coach and inspiration, Mitchell, from the Mappin & Webb Company in Mayfair, London. The beautiful, strikingly simple seventeen-inch high Ryder Cup, a gleaming golden chalice weighing four pounds, was made in Sheffield by the accomplished silversmith James Dixon. It cost £250, an amount split three ways: Ryder paying £100, Golf Illustrated likewise and the Royal and Ancient Golf Club £50. Some newspaper reports claim the Ryder Cup was presented to the winning British captain, Ray, in 1926, but construction was not finished until 1927, just in time for the first official event in Massachusetts.

Abe Mitchell hits his drive at the fourth hole on the King’s Course, 1921.

The small statue atop the cup, addressing the ball, stands as a lasting and fitting memorial to Mitchell and his contribution to the birth of the contest. ‘I have done several things in my life for the benefit of my fellow men, but I am certain I have never done a happier thing than this,’ Ryder stated a few years later. ‘I owe golf a great deal, Sam. What you’ve done, putting me on top of the cup, is more distinction than I could ever earn,’ beamed Mitchell. At a subsequent PGA committee meeting on 19 July 1926, attended by Ryder, he volunteered to offer his trophy for an ‘annual International Match’. Minutes of the committee meeting from the Belfry archives read: ‘Mr Ryder said it was a great pleasure to him to offer a Cup for competition at an International Professional Match and suggested that such a match should be under the control of the governing body, viz. the PGA. It was suggested that the International Match should be played alternately in America and in this country, the first Match for the Ryder Cup to be played in the first named country next year.’ Like the Walker Cup, which became a biennial event from 1924, the match would be contested every second year. Ryder could scarcely have believed it would be a cup from which so many magical moments and memories would spawn. Any player who holds the trophy aloft can still look up to the figure of Mitchell standing atop its lid and warmly and fondly reminisce.

Jock Hutchison: Gleneagles was an absolute revelation – a delightful surprise to all American golfers.

George Duncan: I went to Wentworth as a pro in 1924 and during my stay we had the Daily Mail tournament, which Abe Mitchell won, and a match which I arranged between professionals of Great Britain and America in 1926, which proved to be the forerunner of the present Ryder Cup contests.

It must be stated, however, the International duel at Wentworth was not the first of its kind between the professionals from both sides of the Atlantic, because there had been a similar one at Gleneagles in the early twenties.

Nor was it, on the ‘American’ side, confined to purely homebred professionals, because they included such men as Jim Barnes, Tommy Armour, Joe Kirkwood, and little Cyril Walker, the Lancashire lad who had won the American Open in 1924 and fell on such hard times that he became a dishwasher in a restaurant and died destitute.

But the idea of a permanent match between the two countries, home and away, sprang from that Wentworth tussle. All the transatlantic men had come over for the Open at Royal Lytham and St Annes, and in addition to those mentioned, their team included Walter Hagen, Bill Mehlhorn, Al Watrous, Fred McLeod, Emmet French, and Joe Stein.

The British team included Abe Mitchell, Aubrey Boomer, Archie Compston, George Gadd, Ted Ray, Fred Robson, Arthur Havers, Ernest Whitcombe, Bert Jolly, and myself.

It is not my intention to go into great detail, but we won 13–1, with one match halved. Bill Mehlhorn was the only winner on their side. We made a clean sweep in the five foursomes.

Charles Whitcombe: The only thing that matters in fourball golf is the score of the side and a good fourball player will think of it as such. It was this that made George Duncan and Abe Mitchell such a formidable partnership in fourball exhibition matches. They didn’t care which of them won the holes as long as the side won them. On the green it was their practise to leave it to whichever of them had struck his putting form, to go for the threes, the other one playing to make sure of the par fours – irrespective of the position of the balls on the green. In such a matter, however, temperament counts for a lot. When Walter Hagen and Mac Smith were partnered together in fourball matches, Hagen practically always gave ‘MacSmith’ the job of putting first, regardless of the position of the balls on the green, holding himself in reserve for the special effort to secure the birdie or to save the par.

George Jacobus, president of the US PGA: Our team was hopelessly outclassed, losing every one of the five foursomes and registering in the ten singles only one win (Bill Mehlhorn beating Archie Compston by a solitary hole) and a halved match between Emmet French and Ernest Whitcombe. The total of 13½ points for Great Britain against only 1½ for the invaders might well be regarded as a repulse.

Samuel Ryder: The only condition that I attached to the trophy was that, as long as it constituted international matches against the United States, the matches should be decided by foursomes and singles. If for any unforeseen reason these international matches were discontinued, it was entirely at the discretion of the committee of the PGA to allocate it for any other competition as they thought best.

Ernest Whitcombe: The Americans come over here smartly dressed and backed by wealthy supporters, the Britisher has a poor chance compared to that.

Samuel Ryder: I will give £5 to each of the winning players, and give a party afterwards, with champagne and chicken sandwiches.

Spectators follow play on the fifteenth hole, Howe O’Hope, the King’s Course, Gleneagles.

26 April 1926, newspaper announcement: Mr S. Ryder, of St Albans, has presented a trophy for annual competitions between teams of British and American professionals. The first match for the trophy is to take place at Wentworth on June 4th and 5th.

Walter Hagen: Actually, international team matches were not new when the Ryder Cup was established, but up to that time the matches were arranged by several individual pros getting together and challenging a team in the country decided upon. As early as 1913 an American pro team made up of Johnny McDermott, Mike Brady, Tom McNamara and Alex Smith played a specially arranged match at Versailles, France, against Arnaud Massy, Louis Tellier, Jean Gassiat and Pierre Lafitte. The French won that match.

World War One upset all plans for continuing the idea just then, but in 1921 another American pro team invaded Britain. During the intervening years many of the great British and Scotch golfers travelled over here to try out for our Open, but there was no concerted effort to plan and arrange a scheduled match until 1926.

That year a group of us decided on another invasion of Great Britain. I picked the team and asked Emmet French to act as captain. Homebreds on the team included French as captain, Bill Mehlhorn, Joe Stein, Al Watrous and Walter Hagen and such foreign-born pros as Jim Barnes, Tommy Armour, Cyril Walker, Joe Kirkwood and Freddie McLeod. The British were too much for us … we were defeated thirteen matches to one. Bill Mehlhorn, the only American to win his match, defeated Archie Compston; Emmet French halved his match; the rest of us lost. But the expedition served to point up the need for the American and British professionals to have a cup for international competition on a level with the famous Walker Cup for amateurs.

George Duncan: Arising out of the match between the professionals of Great Britain and America at Wentworth in 1926 and because of the deep interest in the Walker Cup, which was originated in 1922, the Ryder Cup series was started in 1927.

We needed a permanent match between the professionals of Great Britain and America on the home and away principle, and the idea was raised at a committee meeting of the Professional Golfers’ Association. The result was that we approached Mr Sam Ryder, the famous seedsman, whose interest in golf was so great that he had a private course and appointed Abe Mitchell as his professional.

Mr Ryder’s great love of golf and his benefactions to promising young players made him the man obviously to approach to donate a trophy. He gave the Ryder Cup, which, made of gold, cost £750.

Walter Hagen: So Samuel Ryder, wealthy British seed merchant, established the Ryder Cup in 1927, and the first international matches were scheduled for Worcester, Massachusetts. However, the stipulation that the United States team must be composed of American-born pros prohibited many of our fine golfers, including a number of boys who had been instrumental in getting the cup donated, from playing in the teams. The aim of every professional golfer became a berth on the PGA’s Ryder Cup team and thus to represent the United States in the international matches held every two years.

Walter Hagen holds the cup amid his victorious US teammates in 1927.

ONE

1927

Worcester Country Club. Worcester, Massachusetts(USA 9½, GB 2½)

In 1927, the editor of Golf Illustrated, George Philpot, appealed for funding for the trip to the US in the pages of his magazine. ‘I want the appeal to be successful,’ he wrote, ‘because it will give British pros the chance to avenge the defeats which have been administered by American pros while visiting our shores in search of Open Championship honours. I know that, given a fair chance, our fellows can and will bring back the cup from America. But they must have a fair chance, which means that adequate money must be found to finance the trip. Can the money be found? The answer rests with the British golfing public.’

Then, in a later edition when the appeal failed, he wrote again. ‘It is disappointing that the indifference or selfishness of the multitude of golfers should have been so marked that what they could have done with ease has been imposed on a small number. Of the 1,750 clubs in the British Isles whose co-operation was invited, only 216 have accorded help. It is a deplorable reflection on the attitude of the average golfer towards the game.

‘We are reluctant to think that this represents the attitude of a great section of the golfing community towards a matter in which the nation’s credit is at stake. When our professionals are undertaking a crusade for the sake of the prestige of British golf, an expedition in the spirit of amateurs, the people of this country might reasonably be expected to help as a duty. After all, they ought not to pursue the principle of taking everything out of the game and giving as little as possible to it. No doubt it is mainly slackness, the traditional British way of beginning slackly and muddling through, which has caused so many British clubs to allow their imaginations to slumber when it is their active assistance that is needed.’

With the match in real peril of once again failing to go ahead, Samuel Ryder and Philpot agreed to make up the shortfall. But this last-minute funding gap was not the only obstacle that beset the travelling team. Abe Mitchell was selected as the inaugural British captain, but just hours before departure he was struck down with appendicitis and had to withdraw. Ryder, also struggling with his health, was forced to stay at home, too. Ted Ray was made captain in Mitchell’s place and was joined in the team by Aubrey Boomer, Archie Compston, George Duncan, George Gadd, Arthur Havers, Herbert Jolly, Fred Robson and Charles Whitcombe.

The team met at Waterloo station and travelled down to Southampton where they boarded the RMS Aquitania and began their (somewhat rough) crossing of the Atlantic. They were met in New York by the captain of the American team, Walter Hagen and a host of dignitaries.

Arthur Havers: The whole thing about going to America was a culture shock for most of us. When we got to New York, the entire team and officials were whisked through without bothering with customs and immigration formalities.

There was a fleet of limousines waiting for us at the dockside, and, with police outriders flanking us with their sirens at full blast, we sped through New York. Traffic was halted to let us through; it was a whole new world for us. Everywhere we went we were overwhelmed with the hospitality and kindness of the Americans.

Suddenly we were in a world of luxury and plenty – so different from home. It was something we never expected. Even the clubhouses were luxurious with deep-pile carpets, not like the rundown and shabby clubhouses at home, which was all most of us really knew.

The team that Hagen had under his stewardship included Leo Diegel, Al Espinosa, Johnny Farrell, Johnny Golden, Bill Mehlhorn, Gene Sarazen, Joe Turnesa and Al Watrous. On the morning of 3 June, the first Ryder Cup got underway. The format of the matches would remain the same until 1959 and consisted of four thirty-six hole foursome matches on the first day and eight thirty-six hole singles matches on the second, with a total of 12 points available to be won; all the games would be match play.

George Duncan: The first Ryder Cup contest will always be remembered as it provided us with our first experience of the bigger American ball, which duly earned me a headline for terming it ‘large, light, and lousy’. It was 1.68 inches but lighter than now, and it used to get blown about like a toy balloon. Some American golfers reverted to the 1.62 British ball until more weight was put in their own.

That same contest was memorable for the fact that with Abe Mitchell taken ill at the last minute, we decided, during the train journey to join the ship at Southampton, upon a new captain – Ted Ray.

On our arrival at New York, they gave us a dinner (with the usual speeches) at the Biltmore, and in the glare of floodlights had us putting on the lawn in the early hours of the morning. Despite all the preparation, however, we were beaten by nine matches to two, with one halved. We didn’t like the larger ball, but neither did our American rivals.

Something happened the night before the contest which has never been allowed to occur again. Walter Hagen outwitted us. He came round to our hotel and asked Ted Ray for the foursome pairings and order of play of our team. With a new adventure and an exciting pre-match atmosphere, Ted unsuspectingly handed them over. Walter went off and placed his own team accordingly.

We lost the foursomes by three matches to one, and I am not too certain that by his action that night Walter Hagen did not help to create a psychological advantage which has virtually been an American asset ever since. It is very important to get off to a good start, especially in a new contest. By Walter’s astuteness as much as their own good play, the Americans achieved it in that first Ryder Cup contest.

I don’t blame Walter for what he did; in fact, I rather admire him. He has always been a skilful, intelligent fighter, and as captain of the American team, he was entitled to use his wits. Unfortunately, we were not clever enough for him – but he didn’t get the singles pairings like the foursomes! They were exchanged at the same time – and have been ever since, with each captain trying to foresee the plan of the other.

Walter Hagen: As long as I was playing competitive golf, from 1927 when the cup was established until 1938, when I voluntarily gave up the position, I was captain of the American Ryder Cup teams. In those early years, I picked my own teams with the consent and approval of the PGA. I chose fellows whose game I considered peculiarly suited to the type played by the British we were to meet. My first team consisted of Johnny Farrell, John Golden, Joe Turnesa, Gene Sarazen, Al Watrous, Leo Diegel, Bill Mehlhorn and myself, as playing captain. We had no alternates that first year. We competed against British players Ted Ray, George Duncan, Archie Compston, Arthur Havers, Aubrey Boomer, Charles Whitcombe, Fred Robson and Hubert Jolly. We won nine matches to Great Britain’s two with one match halved.

The combination of Hagen and Golden beat Ray and Robson 2&1, Farrell and Turnesa beat Duncan and Compston 8&6, and Sarazen and Watrous defeated Havers and Jolly 3&2 before Boomer and Whitcombe scored Britain’s first point when they emphatically defeated Diegel and Mehlhorn 7&5.

George Philpot: We expected to win the foursomes at least. The trouble is that we couldn’t putt.

Ted Ray: One of the chief reasons for our failure was the superior putting of the American team. They holed out much better than we did. The result is disappointing but it has not killed our team spirit.

Samuel Ryder (holding his hat) stands with the British Ryder Cup golf team at Waterloo Station as they set off on their trip to America.

The British team prepare to set sail on the SS Aquitania. Getty Images

Gene Sarazen: When Hagen was captain, he picked the people he liked to be on the team. He was the man in charge, and what he said went. Fortunately, he was a very good captain.

Going into the singles, the momentum remained very much with the home team as Bill Mehlhorn defeated Archie Compston one-up, Johnny Farrell comfortably saw off the challenge of Aubrey Boomer 5&4, Johnny Golden thrashed Herbert Jolly 8&7, Leo Diegel did much the same with Ted Ray in his 7&5 victory, Walter Hagen edged Arthur Havers 2&1, and Al Watrous defeated Fred Robson 3&2.

The only positives from Britain’s point of view came from George Duncan’s one-up victory over Joe Turnesa in the final match and Charles Whitcombe’s halved match with Gene Sarazen in the middle of the order. It was a dominant display from the home team, who recorded an overall 9½–2½ victory.

George Philpot: People said that the result would have been closer had Abe Mitchell been there. But several Mitchells would have been needed to alter the result.

George Duncan: I would like to pay tribute to Charlie Whitcombe. With Aubrey Boomer, he won his foursomes 7&5 against Leo Diegel and Bill Mehlhorn, and halved with Gene Sarazen for the singles.

For my own part in that 1927 tussle, I was four-down with nine to play against Turnesa – and just about as miserable as anyone. Then Joe introduced me to his wife, who had followed us around. From that point, the fortunes of the game altered completely, and we went to the last hole level. I was inside the American on the green by five yards or so. Joe had a twelve yard putt and missed. I sank a seven-yarder for a win!

Ted Ray: Our opponents beat us fairly and squarely and almost entirely through their astonishing work on the putting greens, up to which point the British players were equally good. We were very poor by comparison, although quite equal to the recognised two putts per green standard. I consider we can never hope to beat the Americans unless we learn to putt. This lesson should be taken to heart by British golfers.

Gene Sarazen: We were excited to be playing in the first official Ryder Cup match, but that didn’t mean many people would notice or that it would amount to anything.

Samuel Ryder presents the trophy to the winning captain, Great Britain’s George Duncan, after they defeated the USA in the second Ryder Cup in 1929. Getty Images

TWO

1929

Moortown Golf Club. Leeds, England(GB 7, USA 5)

Unfortunately for both players and spectators, the weather leading up to the second Ryder Cup and the first to be officially played on British soil was very bad, with strong winds and pounding rain battered Moortown in Leeds. The players did their best to practise in advance of the matches, but struggled badly in the conditions.

The home team was captained by George Duncan and featured Aubrey Boomer, Archie Compston, Fred Robson and Charles Whitcombe, who had all played in the first match in America, and were joined by Percy Alliss, Stewart Burns, Henry Cotton, Ernest Whitcombe and, because he had missed the 1927 match with illness, Abe Mitchell.

Walter Hagen was again captain of the American team and he brought with him seven players who had appeared at Worcester Country Club: Leo Diegel, Al Espinosa, Johnny Farrell, Johnny Golden, Gene Sarazen, Joe Turnesa, Al Watrous, plus two newcomers in Ed Dudley and Horton Smith.

Gene Sarazen: You have to remember that the Ryder Cup was the players’ idea. It came from them. Even before Sam Ryder became involved we had played two matches between the professionals of the United States and Great Britain. But in those first matches we paid our own expenses. We came over for the Open and stayed on to play the match. I think there was more spirit, more of a will to win. That’s what we were there for.

George Duncan: So America won the first Ryder Cup … two years later I was at home in Knutsford when I received a telegram informing me that I had been appointed captain of the second British Ryder Cup team for the match at Moortown.

In that contest I was to lead Britain in her first victory in the series and introduce to the team a bright twenty-two-year-old – Henry Cotton. Into the American team that same year went Horton Smith, one year younger than Henry. They were for many years the two youngest players ever to appear in Ryder Cup contests.

When play finally got underway the rain thankfully relented and a huge crowd of 10,000 spectators came out to watch. The opening match saw Charles Whitcombe and Archie Compston take on Johnny Farrell and Joe Turnesa. The Americans led one up after eighteen holes, but the British pair brought the match back all square before pushing out to a two-hole lead. They were not able to maintain this however, and were eventually drawn back to all square, which was how the match concluded.

Diegel and Espinosa then put on something of a show as they glided comfortably to a 7&5 victory over Boomer and Duncan before Britain punched back with a 2&1 victory for Mitchell and Robson over Sarazen and Dudley. The Americans ended the day in the ascendancy, however, when Golden and Hagen defeated Ernest Whitcombe and Henry Cotton two-up.

Going into the singles, Duncan knew that his team would need to play some outstanding golf to overturn the deficit and claim the cup for the first time – and the two players he selected at the top of the order did just that. First Charles Whitcombe demolished Johnny Farrell 8&6 and then Duncan himself led the way with a hugely impressive 10&8 victory over his rival captain, Walter Hagen. These results buoyed the home team enormously for while Leo Diegel defeated Abe Mitchell 8&6, Horton Smith defeated Fred Robson 4&2, and Al Espinosa secured a half against Ernest Whitcombe, Archie Compston defeated Gene Sarazen 6&4, Aubrey Boomer beat Joe Turnesa 4&3 and Henry Cotton saw off Al Watrous 4&3 for an overall score of 7–5 in the home team’s favour.

Gene Sarazen: The major chunks of colour in the Ryder series were provided by Hagen, the perennial captain of the American side. Walter fancied himself as a gifted manoeuvrer of personnel, and for the most part he was. He achieved excellent results year after year in the foursomes by pairing golfers who got along well personally; it generally followed that they dovetailed harmoniously in hitting alternate shots. Hagen’s strategy in arranging his singles line-up was a little less successful. In 1929 at Moortown, I remember how Walter walked into his hotel room for a chat with his charges the night before the singles. He was all smiles. He had just held a confab with George Duncan, the British captain. ‘Duncan wanted to know, boys,’ Walter chortled as he rubbed his palms together, ‘if I could arrange for our captain to play their captain if he let me know what number their captain was playing. I said I thought it could be arranged. Well, boys, there’s a point for our team.’

The media welcome the US Ryder Cup team on the roof of the Savoy Hotel, London.

George Duncan: It was cold and there was snow before the contest started. Walter Hagen and I exchanged our team pairings simultaneously. I paired Abe Mitchell with Fred Robson and they proved to be our only winning couple in the foursomes, though Charlie Whitcombe and Archie Compston halved with Johnny Farrell and Joe Turnesa.

Down 2–1 in the foursomes, with one halved, was not a happy prospect, but for the one and only time in the history of the first eight contests, we turned deficit into victory in the singles.

After the foursomes, Hagen came to me and said there had been some talk that the two captains should play together. The sentiment was all right to me, and so was the match, because with all due respect, I never feared Walter in singles combat. I told him my place in the order – the rest was not disclosed until each captain had handed to the other the sealed list of his own placings.

That day in Moortown it seemed Hagen could do no right, while I could do no wrong. Whenever he got off the line, I produced something which gave him no chance of recovery, and beat him by 10&8. When the match finished at the twenty-eighth, the demonstration by a huge crowd was terrific. Flags were waved, hats were thrown in the air, and for a few moments delirium reigned.

Again it is necessary to pay tribute to Charlie Whitcombe, however; he had gone out in the top singles just ahead of me and set about Johnny Farrell to some purpose. He was up, I was up, and the heartening effect of both those things probably spurred on the rest of the team – at least all the team with the exception of Abe Mitchell and Fred Robson, who each found Leo Diegel and young Horton Smith in great form.

Hagen, Ryder and Duncan at the official launch dinner, 1929. Getty Images

The contest was won by six matches to four, with two halved. Greatest thing of all, was that although we were down in the foursomes, we never lost heart. We stuck to our men.

Leo Diegel: I have certainly never played better golf than I did against Abe Mitchell in the Ryder Cup singles at Moortown. My driver never failed me and my iron shots and putting simply couldn’t go wrong.

George Jacobus, president of the US PGA: In 1929 the British reversed matters at home, but this contest at Moortown was close, two points or the result of a single match, won or lost, deciding matters. It was in this contest that George Duncan annihilated Walter Hagen by the ghastly margin of 10&8 in thirty-six holes.

Walter Hagen: The galleries witnessed some of the greatest golf ever played in that Ryder Cup. I feel strongly that the best team won and the result was all for the good of the game.

Many people felt that I should have played Horton Smith in the foursomes, but I think I disposed of the men at my command to the best possible advantage. It was disappointing to lose the cup, but I was convinced that we would win it back two years later.

Henry Cotton: Walter Hagen was another of my heroes. I keep using the word hero, but he was the fellow who made me think, ‘That’s what I want to do. I want to be like “The Haig”. I want to have silk shirts with monograms, and two-toned shoes, beautifully made suits and gold cufflinks.’ What an impression he made, arriving at golf clubs in Rolls Royces which he rented, of course, when in Britain. That really was something in those days, right after the First World War.

I got to know Hagen in America. I went over as a young pro in November 1928 to play in the winter tour with the best pros of the USA. When in California the pros used to have their headquarters in the Hollywood Plaza, Los Angeles, which was a new hotel at that time. Two dollars fifty a night for room and bathroom – and the dollar was then five to the pound! I remember still as if it happened yesterday how, after one particular tournament, Walter’s manager Bob Harlow paid the bill for Hagen and himself out of a suitcase full of dollar bills which he dumped on the cashier’s counter. The cash represented the proceeds from exhibition matches played on the route from Detroit (Hagen’s home town) to California. Bob collected the money at the ‘gate’ – but somehow never found time to count it. The bills weren’t even in bundles and he went through the suitcase like a ferret, looking for twenty and fifty dollar bills, leaving the smaller ones in the bottom of the case like confetti. Then off they went to the next venue, never really worried whether he would finish well or otherwise in the tournament. I recall one tournament at which he won a prize and a law officer stepped out of the crowd to say, ‘I’ll take that cheque.’ It was for owed alimony. Hagen just roared with laughter. He lived well and he is supposed to be the first golf pro to make a million and spend it, and in those days a million dollars was a real fortune.

Hagen won our Open in 1922 (I was only fifteen at the time,) in 1924, 1928 and in 1929 when I actually played with him, on the final day that year at Muirfield. We had already become very good friends, despite our age difference of fifteen years, and that year he went on to play in Paris with the Ryder Cup team in a triangular sort of match, British and French pros competing. Britain had won the Ryder Cup match at Moortown Golf Club, the second of the series, and it was a great thrill for me, for when I won my match, playing number seven in the singles, the Ryder Cup was ours.

Hagen was still making big money and spending most of it while living life to the full. One day I said to him, ‘I would love to have one of your clubs.’ ‘What club would you like?’ he answered. They were all hickory shafts then and I had fancied a number eight of today from his bag marked, then, a ‘mashie niblick’. He said, ‘Come and pick it up some time,’ and so whilst in Paris I went to Claridges in the Champs-Élysées where he was staying, telephoned his room, and was invited to ‘Come on up, Kiddo.’ He had a suite of connecting rooms, something like 407 to 415, so I went to 407, knocked on the door and when there was no answer to my ‘Hello?’ I pushed open the door. Inside was a girl wearing a negligee. ‘Mr Hagen?’ I enquired. She appeared not to know who he was, but indicated that I should go to the next room. To my great embarrassment – I was a fairly innocent twenty-two-year-old chap – I then went through a whole series of rooms, one after the other, all full of half-dressed young ladies! I eventually found Walter lying on his bed with the telephone still in his hand – he hadn’t put it down after speaking to me and he was fast asleep! I wasn’t surprised that he was exhausted. I didn’t know what to do, but there were a whole lot of clubs in one corner and obviously he had sorted some out. As he was soon to depart for America, by ship of course, I didn’t want to wake him, so I helped myself to an eight-iron, left a goodbye and thank you note and went quietly away.

British captain George Duncan tees off while Walter Hagen follows the trajectory of the drive.

Walter loved playing golf; he had played baseball as a young man and had a natural gift for hitting a ball. He played from a very wide stance with rather a lurch, which people criticised, but he knew what he was going to do with it. Of course, he used to make mistakes but I think he almost welcomed them as he enjoyed the extra challenge and showmanship of producing a great recovery.

George Duncan: I was a member of the first three British Ryder Cup teams, and the first British player to win in the singles, at Worcester, Massachusetts, in 1927. In the next contest at Moortown in 1929, when I was captain, I beat Walter Hagen 10&8 (I cannot recall that Walter ever beat me in singles match play, though he did it often enough in foursomes).

My foursomes record in the Ryder Cup is one of dismal failure – down in all three. I have never regarded myself as great in foursomes play, probably because I am so individualistic, but at the same time, I did not have my old pal, Abe Mitchell as a partner, though Archie Compston, Aubrey Boomer, and Arthur Havers were as good as I could have found anywhere.

Charles Whitcombe: The world’s finest player of the long iron shots is Henry Cotton. He can put the ball within ten yards of the pin with a two-iron from distances for which most people would want to take a wooden club. He has an amazing ability to combine power with accuracy in the long iron shots.

George Duncan: In extenuating circumstances, I had to drop a man like Percy Alliss for Henry to receive the chance he so richly deserved by his early promise, and which he so eagerly seized.

I must say that Percy proved marvellous over the whole thing. He had suddenly been attacked by lumbago, and though he would play brilliantly one day in practise, he would be off his form the next. It wasn’t a nice thing to leave him out, but I put the situation to him – we were all keen to wipe out that defeat two years previously.

‘That’s all right, George; whatever you decide is quite all right with me,’ he replied. It cost him a lot to maintain that cheerfulness. Percy is one of the finest fellows one could wish to meet.

Henry Cotton: When I was quite young one of my greatest idols was Abe Mitchell – a man with a casual yet masterly swing and a totally individual dress sense. His playing outfit usually consisted of a tight-fitting tweed jacket, neat plus-fours with immaculate creases down the front, a matching cap, and beautifully polished expensive brown shoes. The very picture of sartorial elegance. He would walk onto the first tee as though dressed for a day’s shooting, pick his hickory-shafted driver out of the bag, have one practise swing. Then he would take the club to the full horizontal position at the top, and with a terrific flash of the hands drive the ball up to 300 yards down the course. He would finish with the club shaft round the body at waist level. Abe did this time after time; it all seemed so simple. He tried to play with the steel shaft but could never play as well with it as with the hickory; I think he missed the torsion of the wooden shaft. If a weak spot ever appeared in his game it was usually on the greens because he was highly strung and used to get anxious, especially if kept waiting. But I dreamed one day of having hands and wrists that would enable me to do what he did with the clubhead; swish it through the ball with a piercing whistle. So I tried and tried, and practised day and night until I realised that just swinging a golf club and hitting golf balls wasn’t enough. I was getting better, but too slowly. Abe had been a gardener as a young man and hard manual work had given him tremendous strong arms and hands and a tough yet supple back. I decided then that I too needed a stronger drill.

I had concentrated on playing and practising golf seriously since I was about sixteen and looking back I realised I should have done other exercises. I ought to have carried on playing football and cricket, and gone on building my body in the gym, and done more running. So I began thinking of what I could do to drive the ball further and develop a faster impact. I finally hit on the idea of swinging in long grass as a way of offering greater resistance to the clubhead. I used to go to a quiet spot on the golf course and swing away for hours in the deepest rough I could find, using the clubhead like a scythe. It took some doing, and was extremely hard work, but it worked; I began to win tournaments.

The two teams gather for a photograph at Moortown Golf Club, April 1929. Getty Images

Bobby Jones: The 7–5 loss in 1929, probably in the long run, was a good thing for international competition and thereafter the American team were on edge, trying hard to recoup their lost prestige.