Culture
'I've got fight, and that's all I need': How Bob from Oban won the Scottish Open
NORTH BERWICK, Scotland — The 16th green at Renaissance Club sits well below the sloped fairway just off the Firth of Forth, low enough that not a soul surrounding it could see the golfer standing in the Scottish dune grass taking five minutes to hit the ball. They knew nothing of metal spikes or hidden sprinkler heads. To them, Robert Macintyre was nearly out of the Scottish Open, two shots back of Adam Scott with three holes to go. The dream of a Scotsman winning his national open would have to wait another year. Yet here they still stood around the green, patiently waiting, hanging on to some combination of courtesy and hope.
So as a ball appeared from the dark, cloudy sky and bounced before the par-5 green’s up-slope, confusion ensued.
“Is that Bob?” one fan asked.
“Bob?” shouted another.
Scotsman Ross Gray was the volunteer who found the tee shot in the dune grass in the first place. That ball had no chance. He then walked to the green to prepare for the next shot. As he saw the ball bounce and slowly roll up, up, up to within 6 feet from the pin, even Gray said, “That has to be his fourth, dunnit?” But one by one, the realization spread through the semicircle of fans like a wave that it was Macintyre until an out-of-proportion roar erupted along Scotland’s east coast.
“Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!” they chanted as Macintyre finally appeared, walking down the hill with a hand in the air.
Just like that, Bob from Oban eagled the 16th hole to tie the lead. From that moment forward, there was only one way this could end. Bob Macintyre had to win his national open. Thirty minutes later, he was screaming so loud he nearly lost his voice.
“I’ve been brought up to fight for everything,” Macintyre said, “and I just fought for it.”
Dougie Macintyre didn’t drive down from Oban until late Friday night. “My dad is a negative man,” Macintyre joked — so much so that the head greenskeeper at Glencruitten Golf Club doesn’t commit to the drive from Scotland’s west coast until he’s sure his son will make the cut. It wasn’t until around the second round’s 15th hole that Dougie, who caddied for his son during his Canadian Open win last month, felt comfortable.
Dougie is a proud but shy man, a skilled shinty player and golfer in his own right who never had the opportunity to chase those dreams further. He and his wife, Carol, raised a family just off Glencruitten’s 12th tee looking up at hills and fairways so similar to the ones Macintyre just eagled Sunday. They had four children of their own. Many more foster children too, including a boy they’ve watched for the past six or seven years. And Dougie passed the games he loves down to his children.
GREAT SCOT!!! 🏴
@Robert1Lefty wins the @ScottishOpen with a roar heard across Scotland! pic.twitter.com/Fe20zt6lcv— PGA TOUR (@PGATOUR) July 14, 2024
Maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to chase those dreams more than he could. Bob was a special talent, the kind who members knew was different when he was outdriving adults and hit his first ace by age 12. But Dougie and Carol couldn’t afford to send Bob across Britain to play countless junior tournaments the way most of his peers were.
Sometimes club members and mentors helped out financially. Macintyre’s sisters were skilled horse riders, and the family owned a horse for them to compete with. They had to sell the horse, Molly, for enough money to send Bob to the few tournaments he could attend.
He was never the sexy young prospect. He didn’t have the hype from amateur wins or college exploits. He slowly made his way up the ranks, and even when he automatically qualified for the 2023 Ryder Cup, it was met with skepticism.
“Your face doesn’t fit exactly because you’re not a central built guy,” Macintyre said, “and I just have to graft at it. The biggest thing for me was never give up. A lot of people might say, ‘He doesn’t quite have this, he doesn’t quite have that,’ but I’ve got fight, and that’s all I need.”
But there Macintyre was, standing on the 18th tee box with a chance to win the Scottish Open. Unlike the year before — when Macintyre birdied the final hole, only for Rory McIlroy to snag it from his hands one group later — the fighting Scotsman controlled his destiny. He entered the 14th hole three shots back and seemingly out of this thing. But he made the 41-foot birdie putt on 14. He made the epic eagle out of the dune grass on 16 thanks to free relief from a hidden sprinkler under his feet. The score was tied.
Macintyre isn’t the most imposing-looking individual. He has a kind, pale face that welcomes you, but he does not look like an elite athlete. He began the day playing in the final group with 24-year-old rising phenom Ludvig Åberg, watching as the 6-foot-3 Swede gave up a two-shot lead on the back nine and swiftly fell out of contention. The handsome Australian veteran, Adam Scott, the other man at 17 under par, waited in the scorer’s tent after missing his 14-foot birdie putt on 18. It was Macintyre’s to take.
Again, Macintyre found himself just off the fairway in some light rough. A pitching wedge was all he needed. He hit a high-arcing left-to-right draw that landed in the center of the green, leaving a double-breaking 14-foot putt for Scottish immortality. He felt strangely comfortable standing over it, too.
And when it went in, grown men hugged and cried. His entire family embraced. Soon the grandstands sang “Flower of Scotland” in unison.
Macintyre dropped his club and shouted with his entire body, thrusting his hips and pumping his fists. He walked over to his caddie to let Åberg finish his putt, then looked up in the sky with hands over his forehead in disbelief. He crouched down as he fought back tears.
Macintyre became the first Scottish golfer to win the national Open in 25 years.
“This is the one I wanted,” he said.
It’ll be a “good west coast cèilidh” at Glencruitten, as Oban natives like to say.
“It could be a long few days to recover, and we expect Bob up tomorrow with the trophy,” member John Tannehill said Sunday night.
A reporter then mentioned to Macintyre that he is scheduled for a 3 p.m. news conference at Royal Troon on Monday for the Open Championship, also in Scotland. He paused for a moment and said carefully:
“I think there might be a change of schedule. I don’t think I’ll be in a fit state to get to Troon. I don’t think I’ll be legally able to drive.”
Robert Macintyre is the first Scot to win the national Open in 25 years. (Luke Walker / Getty Images)
Oban took in Bob and helped propel him to the big time. In turn, he’s brought the town into the limelight. Reporters often make the trek to tell Bob’s story. Glencruitten has received an influx of business with people wanting to play Macintyre’s home course. Signs are up all around town: “The Home of Bob Macintyre.”
So when he moved to Florida this year to play on the PGA Tour and prepare year-round like most great golfers eventually do, he wasn’t happy. He talked often this summer about losing his “mojo” and how different life was on the PGA Tour compared to the European golf circuit.
It wasn’t until Wednesday that Macintyre divulged he would not be re-upping his rent in Orlando. It’s not worth it. He’s moving back to Scotland and will travel back to the States when the time comes.
So, the week he officially recommitted to his home and inner truth, Macintyre won the national Open against a field including many of the top players in the world. He left home to become great. He came back to prove he already was.
This all comes just five days after two Scottish men made their way up Glencruitten’s steep 12th fairway and onto the green and turned around to point to the home Macintyre grew up in. These were the men who flew with Macintyre to Rome to watch him in the Ryder Cup and played a round with him the Tuesday after he won the Canadian Open in June.
One of the men, Declan Curran, joked that Macintyre is downplaying the pressure, but they want him to pull off the double, to go win the Scottish and the Open Championship in back-to-back weeks in their home country. They laughed, but they believed it.
Macintyre is halfway there, but he’ll be happy with this one forever.
(Top photo: Octavio Passos / Getty Images)
Culture
Can You Match the Places These Authors Lived With Settings in Their Books?
A strong sense of place can deeply influence a story, and in some cases, the setting can even feel like a character itself. This week’s literary geography quiz highlights places where authors were born (or lived) that later became locations in their books. To play, just make your selection in the multiple-choice list and the correct answer will be revealed. At the end of the quiz, you’ll find links to the works if you’d like to do further reading.
Culture
Book Review: ‘America, U.S.A.,’ by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.
AMERICA, U.S.A.: How Race Shadows the Nation’s Anniversaries, by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.
For those of us in the national memory-keeping business, anniversaries hold near-totemic power. Satisfyingly round units of time, ideally bearing fancy, Latin-derived names, serve as the overburdened pegs on which to hang think pieces and museum exhibits, revisionist documentaries and maudlin public ceremonies. The arbitrary nature of such occasions is precisely what gives them their charge, inviting us to set aside complacency and submit to a comprehensive check-in.
In his new book, “America, U.S.A.,” Eddie S. Glaude Jr. presents an intriguing variation on the genre, seeing the country’s 250th birthday as an anniversary of anniversaries: 50 years since the malaise-ridden, schlock-heavy Bicentennial. A century since the subdued Prohibition-era Sesquicentennial. A century and a half since telegraphed reports of George Armstrong Custer’s defeat by the Lakota and Cheyenne at Little Bighorn rudely interrupted the Gilded Age Republic’s 100th birthday party.
If an anniversary offers a snapshot of a moment, the core of Glaude’s book is an old-timey photo album, a collection of notable episodes from earlier national reckonings, long-ago glances in the mirror. An estimable scholar of Black history, politics and religion at Princeton — best known for “Begin Again,” his 2020 meditation on James Baldwin’s relevance for our times — Glaude focuses, as his subtitle puts it, on “how race shadows the nation’s anniversaries.”
Such celebrations, he contends, have never really been the moments for honest self-reflection they are often advertised to be. Instead, the nation usually shatters the mirror, refusing to accept what it prefers not to see. “American anniversaries are often moments to turn a blind eye to the evils of the past and the present,” Glaude writes, “to suppress the fact of America’s divided soul.”
It’s a clever concept, and, needless to say, perfectly timed. Last year, Glaude notes, the Trump administration executed a hostile takeover of the government’s studiously bipartisan 250th anniversary planning. It is now preparing a program that is certain to conceal more than it reveals about the country ostensibly being celebrated.
Glaude, in no mood for celebration, argues that such omissions and evasions also defined commemorations in the past. In 1875, Frederick Douglass predicted “one grand Centennial hosannah of peace and good will to all the white race of this country.” He was right: The nation reached 100 years old at a crucial moment in the post-Civil War fight over racial equality, with white Northerners ready to give up on Southern Reconstruction. The occasion would help the once-warring sections to reunite around a shared commitment to white supremacy. On May 10, 1876, at the opening of the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, the police tried to bar Douglass from the grandstand, until a white politician vouched for him.
The 150th anniversary came soon after a resurgent Ku Klux Klan successfully pushed for a restrictive immigration law aimed at keeping America a “Nordic” nation. At the lavishly funded, lightly attended celebrations in Philadelphia, Black veterans of World War I were excluded from marching in the opening parade. A writer with The Associated Negro Press wondered “what was in the breast of those black men who fought to make America safe for Democracy and on Monday stood on the sidelines, forgotten, as the Nordic strode by in all his vain pride.”
By 1976, when the nation marked its Bicentennial, the violence of the ’60s had destroyed any semblance of consensus. Vietnam and Watergate had eroded trust in the government. The commission initially tasked with organizing the anniversary was disbanded amid reports of corruption. Corporations filled the vacuum, Glaude explains, with “star-spangled whoopee cushions; patriotic toilet seats; Liberty hamburgers; red, white and blue beer cans.” The author, around 8 years old at the time, dimly remembers donning a pair of tricolor trousers.
A half-century later, Glaude is refreshingly honest about the depths of his despair. “I do not love America, and never have, especially now,” he writes in one of the more startling opening sentences I’ve read in some time. He dismisses this year’s Semiquincentennial as reaching back “to a storybook America that requires either the banishment of Black people from view or the reduction of our role in the country’s history, so as to affirm America’s ongoing quest to be a more perfect union.”
Undoubtedly true. But Trump doesn’t own the country, at least not yet, nor the 250th anniversary of one of the most radically liberatory and confusingly contradictory events in world history — an inspiration, as Glaude shows, even to critical observers of the American experiment, like Douglass. Far from the revanchist MAGA-palooza in Washington, I suspect this summer’s unasked-for invitation to national soul-searching may surprise us yet.
Despite his despair, Glaude concludes that “the past still offers resources for us to freedom-dream.” So, too, does this book.
AMERICA, U.S.A.: How Race Shadows the Nation’s Anniversaries | By Eddie S. Glaude Jr. | Crown | 270 pp. | $31
Culture
Summer’s Best Beach Reads
Take me to visit a dysfunctional family with oceanfront real estate
by Meg Mitchell Moore
Moore is a dependable ingredient in any summer reading soufflé. Her airy novels accomplish what they came to do: entertain and transport, without the pyrotechnics of, say, books that eschew quotation marks. In “Down With the Shipmans,” three sisters, laden with baggage, converge on their late mother’s beach cottage, only to learn that their father and his much younger wife are planning to sell the place.
The stakes are high, the drama is juicy and the views are sublime. Moore even provides two beach dogs — Leo (an unruly pit bull mix) and Cinnamon (“golden retriever, red bandanna, long pink tongue”) — to keep things lively. (Comes out June 2)
-
Iowa46 seconds agoFormer Iowa State star Milan Momcilovic withdraws from 2026 NBA Draft
-
Kansas7 minutes ago
On the road again: Arkansas baseball heads to Kansas after brief stop in Fayetteville | Whole Hog Sports
-
Kentucky13 minutes agoMilan Momcilovic withdraws from NBA Draft, will return to college
-
Louisiana19 minutes agoSilver Alert: Assistance needed locating missing Monroe woman
-
Maine25 minutes agoRachel Carson Center for People and Nature opens in Kennebunk
-
Maryland31 minutes ago
Maryland Fishing Report
-
Michigan37 minutes agoMuskegons next big thing How Recarder Kitchen became Michigans cornerstone in 2027
-
Massachusetts43 minutes ago‘I just don’t feel it here in New England right now’: Immigrants say World Cup excitement is lacking – The Boston Globe