The golf world stopped when Robert MacIntyre's Genesis Scottish Open-winning putt went in.
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NORTH BERWICK, Scotland – An ominous silence hung over the 18th green at the Genesis Scottish Open for what felt like a very long shot.
Below, Robert MacIntyre, a native son of Scotland, was looking down the last six inches of his life, a 22-foot curler that required. just enough speed to die to avoid losing the dungeon completely. He was determined to go for the cup with all his might, but every second of silence seemed to put it in more danger.
No 22 feet can take that a long time to find the bottom of the hole – not even a putt at the speed of death on these slow Scottish plants. Bob knew it, the few thousand around the 18th green knew it, everyone knew it. And so the silence grew more painful, for it meant that MacIntyre's life had been missed.
“I thought it was half a hole short,” he admitted later. “I thought the legs were gone…”
But MacIntyre's putt was not short.
“It just happened perfect.”
So perfect that it fell – and then, mercifully, silence arose.
It's tempting to describe the sound that followed Bob MacIntyre's Scottish Open-winning putt as a roar, but the truth is it wasn't a roar, it was a release. The people cheering for MacIntyre were not shouting but gasping, belting with all their might and a foolish dream come true.
Maybe this dream wasn't just silly, what about the 16th ranked player in the world who comes from his hometown and won the tournament last year? But how can you explain the home country of golf – a country with 5.5 million people – to bring the winner of their open country only for the second time in its history? And how else would you explain doing it like this, with all the angriest golf fans in the world watching from the sidelines of the 72nd hole? Some of them, like Sahith Theegala, are watching very closely, craning their necks from the upper balcony of the Renaissance clubhouse and hoping to capture the atmosphere of magic below.
“This is the opportunity you've been looking for, Drunk it,” MacIntyre told himself as he stood over the 22-footer. The putter felt “heavy” in his hands, he said, which were unusually stable. What happened next was a putt on the outer right edge that bent on both sides, slowed as it approached the hole … and fell.
The explosion started mainly in the gallery area, which might have increased security if they had not been overwhelmed by the excitement. One section of the fans charged in an orderly fashion on the 18th fairway, circling the green in chaos, while the other, just to the left of the stands, hugged each other so enthusiastically that they tried to resist the weight of the rope. The bagpipe salute that followed was festive, but the jocular handshake given to MacIntyre by the musicians was not.
When the music ended, MacIntyre waded into the crowd from the 18th green to the laughter of his family, crying and cursing, and by the time he walked to the scoring tent he was speechless. The celebration, he said, will begin early in the morning – threatening his ability to drive with his Open Championship media availability on Monday … at 3 pm
“I think there might be a change of schedule,” he said with a laugh.
Maybe Theegala can come in. He snuck out of the ecstatic house to find MacIntyre on the verge of scoring, and interrupted his journey to his stately car to enter Bob's celebration with a ceremonial handshake.
“You played well,” he said.
This view was shared by MacIntyre's caddy, Englishman Mike Burrows, although you wouldn't know it by looking at him. He stood facing the rock from the 18th green, until a member of the MacIntyre family came up to kiss him and his eyes softened.
“F—ing Aye,” he said, a smile on his face.
The pandemonium reached its peak before MacIntyre reappeared to accept the trophy in front of the crowd, which had not yet left the 18th hole. They began to make a strange noise just before he broke out, a song of some sort, echoing around the green in a staggered chorus.
But not just any song – Flower of Scotland, the national sports anthem of Scotland. The singing went on like this for several minutes, broken and disordered, a joyous bedlam.
The words would require several trips around the theater before they were understood, but their meaning needed no introduction.
O Flower of Scotland
When will we see,
Do you like it too?
Not soon, and probably never.
Robert MacIntyre is the Scottish Open champion, and peace has left Scotland forever.
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