We took part in the world’s biggest amateur golf tournament

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The Myrtle Beach World Amateur Handicap Championship sees 3,400 golfers compete to become world champion. Our man was one of them…

It’s not every day you find yourself up against 3,399 other golfers, from 34 countries, over 72 holes. Nor is it that often you get to compete for the title of “world champion”. Winning the Myrtle Beach World Amateur Championship would constitute the highlight of my golfing life, and it’s not an impossible dream. Last year’s winner played off 18.2, and the list of past champions shows that handicaps in the 20s and 30s take home the trophy just as often as single-figure golfers. My 10 handicap, I figure, gives me as good a chance as anyone.

At the registration event the day before the tournament, I bump into Gerald States, one of a select few to have played in every World Am since its inauguration in 1982. “I guarantee you three things,” he says. “It will be different to anything else you’ve experienced, you will meet people who’ll become friends for life, and you will want to come back next year.”

To achieve the dream, I must first top my 42-man division of similar handicap golfers, and then triumph in an additional ‘championship round’ made up of all the divisional winners. Whatever happens, this will be some experience.

ROUND ONE – the most nerve-wracking round of my life

I’ve never been so nervous about a round of golf. I get to the course early, keen to make sure I’m fully loosened up in advance of the 9am shotgun start. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who’s had that idea. The putting green is like the Underground during rush hour, and people are queuing three-deep for the limited spaces on the range.

I eventually manage to hit a few balls, after which I spend some time hopping between other people’s putts on the practice green. Too soon it’s time to head to our starting hole, a par 3 with a 165-yard carry over water, into a strong headwind. There’s no way I’m leaving myself short, so I hammer it to the back of the green, miles from the pin. Three putts later, I’m satisfied to survive the first intact. I can start thinking about making pars and birdies as soon as my hands stop shaking.

Happily though, my nerves begin to settle, and I find myself playing quite well. I throw away a few shots in the closing holes, probably not helped by a round that has taken five-and-a-half hours, but I’m pretty confident a net 75 on a course this tough will constitute a reasonable start.

That night, I visit what the organisers call “golf’s largest 19th hole” – a convention centre packed with merchandise stands, simulators, nearest-the-pin and long-putt contests, live music, and a plethora of food and drink stands. Everything is included in the $475 tournament fee – including booze – and the throng around the cocktail stand suggests there will be a few sore heads in the morning.  

“We get more than 5,000 people each night,” says tournament director Jeff Monday. “There are 3,400 competitors, and at least half bring a guest. We went through 112 kegs last year.” 

Tonight, I’m taking it easy on the beer. My opening round has me sixth in my division, agonisingly close to the top five that would have seen my name displayed on the huge, digital scoreboard suspended above the convention, but good enough to know a solid round tomorrow will put me in the hunt.

ROUND TWO – an 11 and a near punch-up

I arrive extra early, so the anticipated wait at the range causes no stress. Having waited my turn, I find myself hitting it the best I have all year. I hole almost everything on the putting green, and head onto the course full of confidence. I par our opening hole and stand on the next tee feeling good.

After a pushed drive, I take a provisional – a wise move, as my first ball is a yard out of bounds. Playing my fourth into the green, I flush a 4-iron which looks fantastic… until the wind gets up and brings it down a yard short, into the water. I drop another ball just short of the pond. I compose myself, take a deep breath, visualise the perfect pitch, and then proceed to hit so far behind the ball my divot begins in a neighbouring state. My ball plops embarrassingly into the drink, leaving me to drop again and hit my eighth shot onto the green. With my visions of a world title melting before my eyes, I achieve the impossible by making things worse, three-putting from 10ft. I eventually walk off the second green having carded an 11. 

A marshal approaches us as we head up the 4th. Some groups took six hours yesterday, and our pre-round briefing came with a warning that unacceptably slow play today would see offending groups penalised one shot. One of the guys in my group today has a putting routine unlike anything I’ve ever seen, taking umpteen practice strokes from endless different spots on the green. The whole thing takes an age and has already seen us lose a hole on the game in front.

“It’s not a problem yet,” says the marshal, “but if you don’t pick up the pace a bit, I will have to penalise the whole group.” Three of us refrain from blurting out “It’s his fault!” and pointing at Mr Slow Putt. On the green, Slow Putt says: “I don’t care if we get penalised. I had a good round yesterday and I need to do my thing on the greens.” I bite my tongue. It’s hard for someone who took an 11 two holes ago to moan about holding up play. 

On the drive to the next tee, Slow Putt’s buggy partner speaks his mind, and I arrive to find them in the middle of a slanging match. I manage to calm things down, but the five minutes spent arguing doesn’t exactly help our pace of play. Thankfully, Slow Putt ditches his routine, and we later catch up with the game in front. None of us score well, and the enjoyable camaraderie of yesterday’s round feels like a lifetime ago.

ROUND THREE – Mr Slow Putt bites again

My faith in golf is restored by a thoroughly enjoyable round with two good blokes. When one of them takes a 10 on one hole, I can offer genuine sympathy. This is what golf is all about: sharing in each other’s good times, and being able to fully understand each other’s misery because we’ve all been there. None of us threaten the course record, but we play reasonable golf and, more importantly, relax and have fun.

“This is my eighth straight year, and of all the different people I’ve played with, you maybe get one or two guys that take it too seriously,” says one of my playing partners, Tim Wickman, as we discuss my experience yesterday. “The vast majority of people get the balance right. They want to play well, but they know it’s not a matter of life and death. That’s what keeps me coming back: the fantastic people I meet here every year.”

In the bar afterwards, Slow Putt buys me a beer and apologises for what happened the previous day. It’s water under the bridge, as far as I’m concerned, but it’s nice that we’re able to laugh about it, especially when it takes him the best part of two hours to eat a burger.

ROUND FOUR – the dream is over, for this year…

The final round sees you grouped with those closest to you on the leaderboard, so I’m playing with three other chaps with no hope. I play with Alastair Laing, who has made the 27-hour pilgrimage from South Africa for the last 21 years running. “There are just so many great golf courses here,” he says, “you could never get bored of the place.”

He’s not wrong. Myrtle Beach is to golf what Vegas is to casinos. It has 102 courses, including many of the best public courses in America, and the green fees are very reasonable. As a result, 4.2 million rounds are played here each year. USA Today readers voted Myrtle Beach the world’s best golf destination, while Travel World International Magazine called it the “golf capital of the world”. It would be difficult to disagree.

My best round of the week ends with a net 70, pushing me up to 13th in my division. Not the career-defining glory I had dreamt of, but no disgrace either. 

More importantly, I’ve had the best golfing week of my life. I had feared that my week would be a lonely one, but the warm welcome from other golfers makes you feel right at home. At the 19th hole on the closing night, I catch up with Daryl Wolff, another first-time participant with whom I shared a buggy on Tuesday. “I’ve already got my name down for next year,” he tells me.

I can’t imagine that anyone plays in the Myrtle Beach World Amateur and decides it’s not for them. Gerald States was absolutely right. The World Am was completely different to any other golf event I’ve seen, and I met some great people with whom I will definitely remain friends. But, most of all, I can’t wait to get back next year.

We didn’t win, but this man did…

Dennis Rasku, a 68-year-old 14-handicapper, may have been a World Amateur rookie, but he beat 3,399 golfers to take the crown 

I won my division by two shots. I was tied for first going into the fourth day, but I played poorly and assumed I would have been beaten by someone else. 

I wasn’t nervous during the championship round. I assumed I had no chance, especially as my handicap had been cut during the tournament from 14 to 9.6, due to a couple of good scores in the early rounds. I assumed a score somewhere under par would win, but when I finished I was shocked to see that my net 72 had me in a three-way tie at the top of the leaderboard. I started to feel a bit nervous then! 

On the first playoff hole, my second shot was the best shot I hit all week. I made a net birdie which was good enough to win. This is the highlight of my golfing career, without a doubt. 

This was my first time playing in the event. Friends of mine have played in it for years and kept telling me how good it was and that I should come down, but I’ve never really had the time. 

It still seems surreal to think that I won. I’ve received a lot of recognition from other golfers, even those who don’t attend know about it and are impressed that I won. 

I feel a bit guilty about winning it on my first time, but maybe it’s good to show newcomers that it can happen. A friend of mine has played in every one for the last 31 years and has never won his division; he hasn’t stopped moaning at me yet!

There wasn’t anything that I didn’t enjoy about my week at the World Am. I was lucky in that everyone I played with was fun to be with, all the food was good and the entertainment was great. I will definitely be back to defend my title next year!

To book your spot in the World Amateur Championship visit myrtlebeachworldamateur.com

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