BILL ELLIOTT
While the pro game is being played to an echoing sound of silence, players holing decisive putts before instinctively nodding their heads to a bunch of disinterested trees, there is a growing murmur elsewhere.
The Black Lives Matter protests have meant many people have considered racism, possibly their own involuntary part in this other virus, as never before. The game of golf is not isolated from this debate. Indeed, at times, golf has been a flagship for white complacency and bias around the world, whether this bias has been towards skin colour, religion, gender or, please help me, the job you did. It is much improved now, but there still remain significant pockets of discrimination.
To be fair, the regulators recognise this. Last month, 80 of Britain’s sports organisations, including England Golf and the PGA, signed up to a joint statement of regret and intent. Here’s a wee bit of it... “It’s acknowledged that, up to this point, we have not done enough. It is time to confront racism and inequality that exists across sport. There’s no easy solution, but it is time to face awkward questions, become involved in uncomfortable conversations and hold ourselves to account.”
A swift trawl through the higher echelons in England of football, rugby, tennis, athletics, golf and cycling revealed one black board member. At the same time, the PGA revealed a new initiative to encourage more applicants to its acclaimed training scheme. There are 11 photos with the press release, each one showing the smiley faces of young men and women. As far as I can judge, all these faces are white.
My own experience over many years is that I have encountered very little overt racism in the game. This is hardly surprising given it is overwhelmingly white. I have rarely had the chance to play with a golfer whose skin tone was different to mine. Sexism was more blatantly obvious than racism. Even more numbing was the realisation some years ago that over a long career in journalism I have never worked alongside a non-white colleague. Golf Monthly is no different in this regard.
To encounter obvious racism, I had to go to America and specifically The Masters, the first one of which, for me, was in 1980. I thought initially the insistence that the world’s best players employ the club’s black caddies was a cute tradition. Word was that the club wanted to give their black employees the chance of a bumper pay day, but the other, more insistent word was that this tradition was rooted in the shameful edict of Augusta’s long-time chairman Clifford Roberts, when he said: “As long as I’m alive, all the golfers will be white and all the caddies black.” Roberts, a strange, conflicted man, killed himself in 1977. Six long years later, the caddie rule was ditched. It took another 22 years for women to be invited to join the club.
In the late ‘90s I interviewed Charlie Sifford – the first black American golfer to force his way on to the PGA Tour in 1961 when he broke through its shameful colour bar. He was 40 at the time but went on to win twice on tour. He suffered terrible stuff at times simply for not being white and he graciously talked to me about it despite clearly being weary of the subject.
Several years later I was in St Andrews. By chance, Mr Sifford was there too, accepting an honorary degree from the old town’s university. I reminded him of our chat in Florida and thanked him again for talking to me even though he was weary of recounting his tale. “Y’know, I’m still weary but today has been a very good day and no matter how weary I ever feel I know it’s my duty to talk up about these things,” he said.
Charles Luther Sifford died five years ago, but not before he knew Tiger Woods had named his son after him, revealed he called him ‘Grandpa’ and paid tribute to the path he had opened. I’ve thought a lot about Charlie recently. It’s time, surely, for us all to try and do our bit to begin ending the weariness being felt by so many. It’s in our power.
“At times, golf has been a flagship for white complacency and bias around the world”