Beware the Quicksands of Perfection

Although the 150th anniversary of the Open was celebrated this year on the venerable Old Course at St Andrews, it was Prestwick Golf Club,  located 120 miles to the west where the Open Championship was first held in 1860 (and for the first twelve Championships until 1872).  Prestwick eventually hosted 24 Opens with the last one taking place in 1925.

In the following article, first published on our website in 1997, SIS Historian Peter Shaerf  tells the interesting story of the last round of that 1925 Championship... and the effect that the constraints of space and the logistics of crowd control had on eliminating Prestwick from the Open rota, as well as the devastating consequences for runner-up Macdonald Smith —  a golfer upon whom Peter has dubbed the title of the “Greatest Player Never to Win a Major.”

Beware the Quicksands of Perfection!

The last round of the 1925 Open Championship at Prestwick, Scotland, was one of the most remarkable in the history of this august championship. Macdonald Smith was considered a great putter and possessor of one of the smoothest swings ever seen. He had a temperament that Tommy Armour once described as the "most ideal golfing temperament Providence ever put in a man's bosom." Smith's second round score of 69 was the first sub-70 round in Open Championship history. (My personal obsession with Smith is evidenced by the fact that I have in my collection his actual scorecard from that historic round!)

By the final round, Macdonald Smith had built a five-stroke lead over Jim Barnes. Barnes, who in 1912 had become the first winner of the U.S.P.G.A.
championship, was in an early pairing in the last round. His 74 meant that Smith needed only a 78 to secure this most coveted of Championships. Word of Smith's likely success spread through the small town of Prestwick. To quote Bernard Darwin, golf’s premier journalist, the "whole turbulent, enthusiastic Scottish crowd went with him". The stewards lost control. There were children playing in bunkers, women perambulating their babies up the middle of fairways and unleashed dogs running amuck. There were even contemporaneous reports of a street musician next to one of the greens, playing for whatever monies were tossed his way.

On one hole in the final round, Smith and his playing partner found themselves on opposite sides of the fairway. Unable to see or hear each other, both players hit their approach shots at the same time and the balls collided in mid-air! Smith's efforts at regrouping and pressing on were dented so severely by the onslaught of spectators that he never recovered. His final round was an 82, a score high enough to send him into a tie for fourth place. The crowd, well-meaning and totally committed to seeing a native Scottish champion for the first time since 1893, handed the Championship to Barnes or at the very least stopped Smith from winning.

Smith's bitterness and resentment stayed with him a long time. He skipped the next few Opens and did not return until 1930 when he shared second place, two strokes behind Bobby Jones. Nine times Smith finished within three strokes of the winner of the U.S. or British Open and yet each time he failed to reach out and grab the Open chalice. He collected a plethora of titles including four Los Angeles Opens, two Western Opens and two Metropolitan Opens. But on that warm day in June, 1925, this solid golfer’s “ideal” temperament was tested and perhaps, this one time, failed its’ ultimate golfing test.