Open Championship diary: Matt Cooper and Dave Tindall's Sunday update from Royal Birkdale

Sunday roast – Open style

Matt Cooper

I tend to think that almost all human beings are exceptionally bad at reading body language and mood. True, we’re very good at remembering example of us getting it right, but we’re also very good at ignoring the many more times we get it wrong (often very badly).

But I also tend to think that attending a golf tournament in person is mostly an exercise in observing body language rather than actually watching sport.

Finding a good spot behind a par-three green might permit you to see every tee shot, as well as every chip and putt.

But most of the time watching golf is about scurrying across the course, peering into the distance, mistiming your arrival at a hole, and maybe earning a decent view that gets blocked at the last minute by someone else.

And even if you do see the golfer swing, you might easily never see the actual ball.

So we fill in the gaps by watching the golfer closely, guessing at the state of his mind.

And never is that more true than on the range and the putting green on Sunday lunchtime ahead of the final round’s late tee times.

I watched Ryan Fox chatter in apparently carefree mode, earning pats on the back from just about everyone he encountered. I saw Tommy Fleetwood acknowledge every shout of encouragement as he walked from putting green to the first tee, appearing relaxed. I watched Scottie Scheffler seemingly stuck in his zone and I saw Bryson DeChambeau look steely rather than shaky.

At the 2022 Open I bumped into the Olympic gold medal-winning curler Eve Muirhead on the Sunday morning and it occurred to me that she knew exactly what sort of things were flying through the players’ heads that morning.

I told her that I’d never daydreamed about holing a winning putt, or lifting a trophy, or accepting the acclaim of the galleries.

But I have often wanted to experience that last hour before a significant sporting task – asking myself if I was physically, mentally and emotionally up to it.

She held my gaze for one very long second. “Trust me,” she said. “You don’t.”

Perhaps 10 golfers experienced those feelings this Sunday morning – it’s going to be fun (for us) seeing which one prevails.

Rolling back the years with the Duvals

Dave Tindall

St Andrews takes centre stage for next year’s Open and while everyone loves the Home of Golf it’s logistically a tricky one in terms of trying to find accommodation. I’ve twice camped there and one time the four-man tent I was sharing with Matt Cooper blew away. Seriously. Never again.

The good news for this region is that in 2028 the Open will return to Royal Lytham for the first time since Ernie Els won there in 2013 as a 43-year-old. Lytham is 35 miles up the road and holds a special place in my heart.

That was due to David Duval’s win there in 2001. A lot of golf betting friends were on him that year at 25/1 and I’d actually tipped him at those odds for these Sporting Life pages. Open winners seemed easier to find then! But not only did I get to cheer him home, I managed to sneak into the clubhouse bang next to the 18th green and watched out of the window as he holed the winning putt. My peak Open moment.

Duval was definitely my favourite golfer at the time. I’d latched onto him early and backed the first two of his PGA Tour wins at odds of 40/1 (Michelob Championship) and 20/1 (Walt Disney). They came in back-to-back weeks in October 1997. I was also on him at nice odds, 16s maybe, when he shot that incredible final-round 59 to win the Bob Hope Chrysler Classic in 1999.

So imagine the delight and serendipity when on a Friday stroll around Birkdale I struck up a random conversation with David Duval’s wife while watching him play the 10th hole. I giddily informed her about him being my favourite golfer and we shared some nice stories about our respective offspring. David has just become a grandfather for the first time which made me gulp a bit (where does the time go?) and is now playing the Champions Tour.

He didn’t make the cut here but Mrs Duval assured me that hubby will definitely be back on the Lancashire coast for Royal Lytham 2028, the scene of his finest hour. Time for me to brush up on his Champions Tour results. He had an eighth in April at Sugarloaf, the scene of one of his PGA Tour wins in 1999. Hmmm, so he still thrives at courses where he’s won. Perhaps a sneaky bet for Top Senior at Lytham in two years’ time?

The Hojgaard secret unlocked

Dave Tindall

In another random on-course moment, I got chatting to one of the Hojgaard entourage. They were from Aarhus, in the middle of our street, and were hoping for One Better Day after poor opening rounds from the Danish twins, who it has to be said were wearing trousers that were quite baggy. For younger readers, I’m naming Madness songs, a popular band from the 80s.

Apparently, it’s a source of amusement that both still dress in the same clothes although that has a certain charm. But there was definite unwanted symmetry in their performances this week as both Nicolai and Rasmus missed the cut. Nicolai shot 72-70 while Rasmus fired 71-75. Both have played in Ryder Cups and yet, in 29 majors between them, the Hojgaards haven’t chalked up a single top 10. “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” as former Leicester boss Craig Shakespeare once said. Think it was him.

Anyway, this was no wasted conversation as I got an insider’s view on the answer to that much-asked question: how do you tell them apart? Ready for the info that could earn big brownie points if you ever bump into the pair and successfully call them by the right names? For starters, it’s the teeth. “Nicolai has more, sort of fangs, like Count Dracula. A different jawline too.” And, also, it’s the voices. “Nicolai’s speech is more guttural, like a Dutch person.” So there we have it. Get each twin to both speak and smile and then compare fangs and levels of gutturalness.

Easy.

Spanish sighs

Dave Tindall

I spent Open final-round eve at Southport and Birkdale Sports Club watching England’s third-place playoff against France. The venue has been taken over by Scottsdale Golf and there’s a huge mural of Tommy Fleetwood adorning the building. Catch it while you can.

Outside there was music pumping out of a big screen but I was inside with fellow golf tipster and local resident, Martin Mathews (very kindly putting me up for the night), and his mate Pete. Despite our hearts not really being in it anymore after England’s limp semi-final capitulation to Argentina, we decided to watch the ‘bronze medal’ match and what a genuinely bonkers outcome. 6-4 is a double bogey-par start at Royal Birkdale not a football score, but it was great fun to have the room cheering as England kept knocking in the goals.

Of course, the World Cup final is where it’s at and I have one last chance to pronounce ‘Orayzabal’ properly without hesitating/stumbling. I should have it by now, especially after backing the Spanish striker for the Golden Boot at 14/1. But I’ll lean into the Thomas Tuchel school of putting the blame elsewhere. The reason is this: I’ve been so used to saying Olazabal for the last 30 to 40 years that Orayzabal just doesn’t roll off the tongue. I’m so conditioned into saying ‘O-la-thar’ that the variation just bamboozles. Is this just me?

Farewell Birkdale

Matt Cooper

The Scotsman’s Martin Dempster (probably the hardest working golf correspondent in the game and a great source of info on Scottish players in his pages) had a train problem on Sunday morning.

Because, as if to prove his hard working credentials, he was up early and at the train station at 6am. Alas the first train left at 8.25.

But this tale was the exception that proved the rule that Southport is a sensational Open venue. The rail network allows Open visitors to spread out across Merseyside, the roads have more or less held up to the task, and there are plenty of bars and pubs in the towns around Birkdale to cope with the high demand.

The course is also excellent to walk and has coped really well with 300,000 visitors. The dunes allow for excellent viewing and the course has three distinct loops (1-9, 10-13, 14-15) that permit regular pit stops.

It’s St Andrews and the Old Course next year, however. A great town, of course, but a rotten viewing experience. Fingers crossed the R&A have a few viewing innovations for spectators (I’m told they have).