Beauty of Open Championship venue belies beastly test for world's best golfers requiring the focus of ordained monk

News.com.au

18-07-2025

Is it possible something so beastly can also be so beautiful?
One second the television cameras are panning across a stunning coastline, where the sun is almost eternal in high summer, the next it's showing dozens of fans combing through horrid shrubbery with such desperation like they're looking for a lost contact lens. Needn't matter, it was only the ball of Brooks Koepka they couldn't recover.
But there's one part of this course which intrigues: Calamity Corner. Augusta can have its not-a-blade-of-grass-out-of-place Amen Corner, but the real prayers this week will be at the 16th hole at Royal Portrush in Northern Ireland.
Normal everyday golfers would stand on the tee and shake at the knees; a 205-metre par-three, with a staggering ravine to the right, ready to swallow up the hopes and dreams of many a claret jug contender. Ludvig Aberg hit it so far down he took four clubs with him to the bottom to assess his weapon of choice.
By the time he got there in his first round, Ryan Peake's The Open campaign was in chaos. A golf round is nothing compared to the chaos which engulfed his earlier life – bikie, five years in prison for serious assault, trying to stay on the right side of his cellmates – but it was a different chaos nonetheless.
Finally, he found calm. Whack!
'When you're seven-over, not much worse can happen,' Peake shrugs. 'So, it was easy to get up there and pull the trigger.'
He hit the ball to within two feet. Tap-in birdie. Calmness.
Maybe not as calm as an ordained monk.
Thailand's Sadom Kaewkanjana is a name only golf sickos would know.
Two years ago, he took a break from the sport to train as a Buddhist monk. He came back and qualified for The Open by winning in Korea, shot three-under 68 at Royal Portrush to start this event – one shot off the lead – and then explained how putting the clubs down helped train his mind. He birdied 16.
'It's made me (have) a lot of focus,' the world No.262 said. 'Forget everything outside, just live in the present. So, I really enjoy being a monk.'
At the opposite end of the leaderboard was Australian Peake.
Not many would have predicted he would make the cut, but who would have thought he would ever be here after spending so long in the lock-up? He was frustrated when he came off the course with a six-over 77 … and a signed glove from playing partner Phil Mickelson.
'His caddie gave away golf balls as we were walking off the tee, and I yelled out, 'what about me?' And he had a laugh,' Peake says.
'He thought I was being sarcastic, and he said, 'are you serious?' I said, 'no, I'm deadly serious. Can you sign a glove as well?' He's your hero growing up. My own boy is out here this week and he loves him as well.'
In this part of the world, everyone's first, second and third hero is obvious: Rory McIlroy. Phil who?
The last time McIlroy teed off in The Open at Royal Portrush six years ago, he looked at a fairway which was lined with thousands of devotees. The first hole has out of bounds left and right. To a golfer even as skilled as McIlroy, it would have been easier to split the G on a local Guinness than keep his first ball somewhere in play. He went beyond the white stakes, signed for a quadruple bogey, sucked every ounce of air out of the electric gallery, and missed the cut by just one after a second round surge.
This time, it was bogey. Better. Don't mind he straight pulled a three-foot tiddler for par. It was a big improvement on the form guide … and classic McIlroy.
You're captivated with him, but never confident. He's ride or die, thrilling and infuriating, vulnerable and venerable, provocative and pragmatic.
Most of all, he's Northern Ireland's.
His dad, Gerry, made a surprise appearance on the practice range this week, almost sneaking up behind his son to spook him. Rory turned around and gave him a hug, not once, not twice, but a few times. His smile hasn't been broader all week.
A pastor now lives in the McIlroy family home in Holywood, just outside Belfast. He worries about keeping the outdoor putting green built for a young Rory in good condition to honour McIlroy's legacy, even though he barely plays himself.
As expected, McIlroy got hot after the opening hole and the huge crowds snaked their way over the swales and down the slopes to follow him. Almost as expected, then he went ice cold, dropping three shots in four holes. He eventually finished with a one-under 71, three shots shy of the lead on a congested leaderboard.
'I feel the support of an entire country out there, which is a wonderful position to be in,' McIlroy says. 'But at the same time, you don't want to let them down. So, there's that little bit of added pressure.'
There's a monk who can maybe help with that.