Not even Tiger has faced test like this
UP THEY went, a 94-step pilgrimage to the top. Every visitor to Le Golf National this week will return with a view from the summit behind the first tee.
There has been nothing like it in golf, not even at the cacophonous Ryder Cup. Gravel paths lead inside and then the climb begins, shrouded in scaffolding, rare glimpses of sunlight outside between slits in the tarpaulins. Higher and higher, it has turned even the protagonists into tourists — Ian Poulter posting a shot from the peak on the day he arrived.
The clattering of feet on temporary staircases aside, there was no hint of the noise which will rattle the structure this morning. All that can be guaranteed is that these players, even the most famous of them, will have heard nothing quite like it and certainly not under this pressure.
Hazeltine, two years ago, was lively. Minneapolis is a big sports town and Minnesotans can holler. Yet the stands around the tee at the first held 1,668. This is 6,900.
Tiger Woods spoke of feeling the ground shake when he walked out at Celtic Manor in 2010 but nothing will have prepared even the catalyst for golf’s biggest galleries for this.
‘I’ve had people that have experienced great things in golf talk to me about it,’ said European rookie Jon Rahm. ‘They tell me the final tee time in a major is a two out of 10 compared to the first tee at the Ryder Cup.’
It was a familiar theme. Henrik Stenson spoke of players having ‘jelly in their legs’ as they approach the tee, Tony Finau compared the sight of the giant grandstand to the arenas that host NFL games back home.
A reference point for many of the American team appeared to be the 16th hole at the Tournament Players Club in Scottsdale, Arizona. And it is most certainly vast — a short par three, little more than 160 yards, entirely self-contained with gallery space for 20,000 that horseshoes tee to green.
Considered in those terms, there seems little special about the first here. It is a third of the size after all.
The 16th is raucous, too. When Tiger Woods hit a hole in one there in 1997, plastic cups of beer rained from the sky like the scenes from England during the 2018 World Cup.
On another occasion, Justin Leonard gave an enraged gallery the finger after being booed for a poor shot. It is a unique spot on the PGA Tour, crowds cheering or baying, giving a player a snap verdict on his shot. They have favourites and villains, too. Phil Mickelson played for Arizona State. They love a bit of Phil in Phoenix.
Yet it still isn’t like the first here. The Scottsdale crowd are reacting to events, to the fact that the 16th is considered one of the easier holes on the circuit and close to the pin is expected. It isn’t the cauldron that will meet the teams on the first today. The noise here is proactive.
Nor does the Phoenix Open have the pressure of representing self, team, family and nation.
STANDING on the first at Gleneagles in 2014, Webb Simpson hit a pop-up three wood that travelled no more than 200 yards. He recalls the embarrassment of seeing camera crews and media scuttling hurriedly back down the fairway towards the tee.
‘We’re more nervous here than any other tournament,’ he admitted. ‘It’s not the fans. The fans are a good thing. It’s wanting to play well for your team, your captain, the assistant captains, your partner.
‘Look, I’m sure Justin Rose won’t admit this, but he went after me that day, had a three wood out and I saw him switch to driver because the club head is so much bigger. Maybe my shot affected him. I’ll probably try to tee off the even holes if I’m in the foursomes at any time. It’s different on the second.’
Everyone here has a story about their first Ryder Cup tee shot, their first Ryder Cup experience. Everyone is a little nervous, everyone feels the heat.
United States captain Jim Furyk’s voice began cracking when he mentioned his parents in his speech at the opening ceremony, Bryson DeChambeau was unsure whether to remain standing or to sit when his name was called out as Furyk introduced his team. There followed a small game of musical chairs as America’s golfers bobbed uncertainly.
By the time Furyk got to the end they had decided to rise, which probably suited the fragile Tiger Woods. He got to his feet, measured, slowly, like an elderly Southern gentleman, to the biggest cheer of the afternoon for any individual.
His partnership with Patrick Reed promises to be the morning highlight, Reed playing up to his image as the provocateur. When a largely partisan home crowd jeered him, he cupped a hand cheekily to one ear.
‘This week, I’m definitely Captain America,’ he said. ‘It’s playfulness. They’re not booing me because they’re disrespectful or don’t like me.
‘After 2014, I came back and played in the Volvo Match Play. I had about 200 fans, Europeans, who followed me religiously all week. They’ve got the same passion for golf as they have for football and I respect that.’
Undoubtedly, though, this edition of the Ryder Cup has added meaning for the away team. Mickelson, who will equal and probably break Sir Nick Faldo’s record for most Ryder Cup matches in the next three days, is almost certainly playing his last edition in Europe.
That he has never won here reflects a quarter of a century of American failure beyond their own shores.
Equally, who knows where Woods will be in four years, or even two given his struggles? Without doubt, there is added motivation to send these stalwarts home victorious.
The shadow of the first tee’s mighty crest loomed large in the distance.
‘You would think you would get desensitised to it,’ mused Mickelson. ‘But I have come to love and cherish it even more.’
It’s a grower, all right.