The Open 2007: My Final Day AT Carnoustie By Gortch, August 2007
My ticket for the final day of The Open cost me £50. And then there was my parking fee, another £40 (I mistakenly booked parking for the whole week). The drive from Glasgow took about 2 hours but I was upbeat and enthusiastic all the way there -- I didn't doubt for a second that it was all worth it. And then, just as we arrived in Carnoustie, something unexpected happened. Something that would change that day for everybody concerned. It started to rain.

"The sky over Glasgow was bright and blue when I woke up and started on this pilgrimage. It was July, the summer. It hadn't rained at Carnoustie all week. Why the hell would I dress for rain?"

I wasn't dressed for the rain. I wasn't dressed for the rain because the BBC weather people told me it wouldn't rain in Carnoustie. The sky over Glasgow was bright and blue when I woke up and started on this pilgrimage. It was July, the summer. It hadn't rained at Carnoustie all week. Why the hell would I dress for rain?

Sergio Garcia went into this final, rainy day with a 3 stroke advantage over the field. Tiger was a full 8 strokes behind him but nobody was ruling out the possibility of him recovering to win for a third successive year (you can never rule out the possibility of Tiger doing something miraculous). The only one of the big boys that was completely absent was Phil Michelson who simply had a bad tournament.

"I did what any sane person would do under such miserable circumstances; I sought guidance from a divine being. I went to find Tiger Woods..."

With hindsight It was bound to be a great day of golf, regardless of who won, and it was, but by 1 pm I was soaked to the bones, trampling around in the mud trying to buy an umbrella. Umbrellas were sold out. I did what any sane person would do under such miserable circumstances; I sought guidance from a divine being. I went to find Tiger Woods.

When I finally caught up with Tiger he was feeding his five thousand followers on the 14th. By then it was clear that he wouldn't win this year, but that didn't matter. Tiger is history in the making, even when he's losing. The greatest golfer of all time. For a few fleeting moments I got drunk on his presence with the others but watching him pull his big, silly-looking mittens on and march away brought back my awareness of the grim conditions.

The thing about watching golf like this is you don't really see the big picture. On TV you see the big picture. On TV the jump from the 16th green to the 4th takes about a millisecond and you have omniscient commentators with you every step of the way. In real life, with wet feet and a very bad idea of where everything is, a jump like that could take about an hour. And I didn't have an omniscient commentator with me either. I was with my cousin, Ian, from the Isle of Lewis...

The little parts you do see in real life are 100% crystal clear, though. You see the humanity of the golfers and the challenges they face in a way that TV somehow misses altogether. The golfers look much smaller in the flesh and the obstacles before them more formidable and daunting. And then there's the crowds who in themselves play a part in the game (scrutinizing the players, clapping, providing disturbances, and murmuring). I hate people watching me when I play golf, especially my tee shots; it's impressive to see the professionals handling it so well.

"I felt like I had been camping for about a week and my instincts were all dumbed down and animalistic: I wanted food, a seat, and a TV."

All of a sudden it was about 4 pm and we were nearer the end of the day than the beginning. By this stage I felt like I had been camping for about a week and my instincts were all dumbed down and animalistic: I wanted food, a seat, and a TV. Thankfully, the organizers were in tune with all that and we soon had all three. Talk about the big picture, TV screens the size of houses positioned perfectly in front of the seated catering area. Bliss.

Garcia more or less continued to lead, but he wasn't running away with it as he might have. From the back of the pack came Andres Romero who somehow managed to make 10 birdies that day. For a few minutes he was 2 ahead on top of the leader board but he faltered on the 17th and 18th. Stricker, who was paired with Garcia, had steadily crumbled, leaving Harrington as the only realistic challenger. Tension was mounting.

And the rest, as they say, is history. Harrington went on to win in the play-off. His second shot to the green on the 1st play-off hole was the clincher, leaving him a 5 foot putt for birdie which he got. Garcia's second landed in the bunker and resulted in a bogey giving Harrington a telling two point lead (see my pictures, left).

So, all in all, what did I think of Carnoustie and this Final Day at The Open? It was an excellent experience, despite the rain. The course at Carnoustie, though, in my opinion, is ugly and very unnatural looking. The bunkers look like big worm-holes amidst a very bleak, tree-less landscape. Looks-wise, I prefer parkland courses. Enjoyment-wise, I prefer playing.