Key Takeaways
- Tom Watson’s early successes in The Open Championship inspired a lifelong love of golf for the author, who first watched Watson win at Carnoustie in 1975.
- Watson’s career spans five Open victories (1975, 1977, 1980, 1982, 1983) and near‑wins in 1984 and 2009, illustrating his remarkable longevity and consistency.
- Alfie Fyles, a Southport native, served as Watson’s caddie for all five Open triumphs; his background includes caddying for Gary Player before switching to Watson on the advice of IMG.
- The author’s 1991 and 2026 interviews with Watson reveal how the golfer’s demeanor—straight, direct, and efficient—has remained unchanged over three decades.
- Watson continues to return to The Open mainly through his Rolex ambassadorship, but also because the championship remains a central chapter of his life experience.
- Despite course modifications and technological advances, Watson observes that the essence of links golf at venues like Birkdale has stayed remarkably similar, emphasizing skill over equipment.
When I was a teenager in the 1970s, falling into the game of golf, Tom Watson was already a towering figure—both a rising star and one of the sport’s high priests. I first became enthralled by links golf while watching him clinch the 1975 British Open at Carnoustie on television. That moment was doubly significant because it marked Watson’s debut in The Open and, coincidentally, my very first exposure to the championship. The image of Watson lifting the Claret Jug left an indelible impression, steering me toward a lifelong fascination with the sport.
Watson’s Open record is the stuff of legend. Over a span of eight years he captured five titles—1975 at Carnoustie, 1977 at Turnberry, 1980 at Muirfield, 1982 at Royal Troon, and 1983 at Royal Birkdale. He came agonizingly close to adding a sixth in 1984 at the Old Course, St Andrews, and again in 2009 at Turnberry, where, at age 59, he fell short in a playoff. I recall being in the press tent during that 2009 event when Watson walked off the 18th green, glanced at the scoreboard, and declared, “This ain’t no funeral.” Those four words encapsulated his resilient spirit and have echoed in my mind ever since, a reminder that even defeat can be met with dignity and humor.
The relationship between Watson and his long‑time caddie, Alfie Fyles, adds a rich layer to his Open story. Fyles, a genuine Southport man, loomed large in Watson’s triumphs, carrying the bag for all five of his Open victories. Before linking up with Watson, Fyles had caddied for Gary Player during Player’s 1974 Open win at Royal Lytham. When Player opted to bring his American caddie, Alfred “Rabbit” Dyer, to Carnoustie in 1975, IMG—Player’s marketing agency—suggested that Watson hire Fyles for the week. Watson did, they won, and the partnership endured. Interestingly, in 1976 Watson briefly swapped Fyles for his own American caddie, Bruce Edwards, at Birkdale, even though the course was Fyles’s home ground. The anecdote underscores how caddie roles have evolved: once seen as interchangeable helpers, they are now regarded as indispensable members of a player’s team—until, as Watson wryly notes, they are deemed dispensable.
My personal encounters with Watson further illustrate his constancy. In 1991, during the Open at Birkdale, I approached him for an interview with a simple notebook; he agreed, and we sat on a wooden bench in the men’s locker room. Fast forward to 2026, I returned with Darren Riehl, GOLF.com’s creative director/producer/camera operator, for another conversation. This time we met in a bright first‑floor clubhouse room overlooking the 18th hole. Despite the passage of three and a half decades, Watson’s demeanor remained unmistakably the same: straight‑talking, direct, and efficient. He recounted the contrasting feelings of walking up the 18th in victorious times—such as his 1983 triumph—and the disappointment of missing the 54‑hole cut as the defending champion in 1976. He also offered a fascinating tidbit about the historic cut structure, noting that the Open formerly concluded on a Saturday, with a 36‑hole cut followed by a 54‑hole cut to give British club professionals a chance to return home for their Saturday duties.
Watson’s continued presence at The Open is driven largely by his Rolex ambassadorship, but the deeper motivation lies in the championship’s place in his life narrative. Having played his final Open in 2015 at the Old Course, he still treasures the memories and lessons gathered across 38 years of competition. This year he arrived with his wife, Dorothy, after a pre‑tournament pilgrimage that included a tour of Rolex headquarters in Geneva and a visit to Wimbledon to watch the men’s and women’s finals—a fitting perk for a five‑time Open champion. When asked about the evolution of the Birkdale course, Watson observed that, aside from increased length and a few hole redesigns, the fundamental challenge remains unchanged: a hard‑running links layout that demands precision, creativity, and a steady temperament.
In reflecting on Watson’s influence, it is clear that his impact extends far beyond trophy counts. He embodies a blend of competitive fire and sportsmanship that has guided generations of golfers, myself included. His enduring swing—described by his friend Sandy Tatum as “one that will not quit”—mirrors the steadfast attitude he brings to every encounter, whether on the fairway, in the locker room, or across a interview table. As I continue to follow the game, Watson’s example serves as a constant reminder that golf, at its core, is a pursuit of balance, resilience, and joy—qualities that remain as relevant today as they were when I first watched him lift the Claret Jug at Carnoustie.