Upon seeing the title of Tony Jacklin’s new book, My Ryder Cup Journey, this writer expected heaping portions of bromides about sportsmanship and “the great game of golf.” Happily, this is not the case.
Although co-written with Tony Jimenez, the book is undeniably in Jacklin’s voice. Now 77, a cancer survivor and almost totally deaf, Jacklin remains sharp, acerbic, tough, and mostly fair. Like the U.S. Marines, he can be your best friend or worst enemy. But if Jacklin has a sense of humor, it does not come through. He recounts, for example, being unhappy when Ian Woosnam and Sam Torrance threw him in a swimming pool after Europe’s historic victory at the Belfry in 1985, a moment that should have been joyous at best, good natured at worst.
The book is as much an autobiography as a recounting of Ryder Cup experiences. The first 175 pages cover Jacklin’s long Ryder Cup career. He played for the British-Irish/European team seven times during a period when the competition was dominated by the Americans. From 1983-89, Jacklin served as European captain, winning twice and tying once to restore the Ryder Cup to relevance. He explains how his experience as a Ryder Cup player influenced his successful and much-praised tenure as captain.
Interspersed with recollections of key Ryder Cup moments are stories from Jacklin’s long life. This technique is effective in recounting victories at the 1969 Open Championship and 1970 U.S. Open, as well as his inability to financially capitalize on his new prominence. However, at times there are stream-of-consciousness musings that detract from the book’s flow.
He also pays homage to inspiring Ryder Cup moments. Jacklin devotes attention to Jack Nicklaus’ generous concession on the 18th hole in their match at the 1969 Ryder Cup that resulted in a tie. He is lavish in his praise of the late Seve Ballesteros. Poignant is Jacklin’s story of how, after Europe’s win at Muirfield Village in 1987 – its first victory in America – he talked his tired players into dropping by a party thrown by European fans. After a few minutes, he asked Ballesteros, “O.K., we’ve done our duty, shall we go back now?” Ballesteros replied, “No, no, we want to stay. We’re happy here.”
Also, in recounting the tears of joy from Ballesteros, Nick Faldo, and José María Olazábal after victories, Jacklin succeeds in describing why the Ryder Cup is so important. “That’s how it gets to you when you’ve given everything you’ve got all week and manage to get across the line at the end,” Jacklin writes. “None of us would be out there playing golf, punishing ourselves the way we do, unless we cared deeply.”
For some of the book, it’s as if you find yourself seated next to a cranky uncle you don’t know too well at a wedding, one who has decided you are the vessel on which to pour out a lifetime of grievances. You might be a little uncomfortable, but you’re also too engrossed to get up and go to the dance floor. Some of the gripes are legitimate (agent Mark McCormack was angry when Jacklin pulled out of an event after his father was seriously injured in a car accident) and others petty (being left off the 1981 European team even though admittedly his play had declined and he had lost interest in the Ryder Cup at the time).
According to Jacklin, Faldo “was always about himself, totally self-centered, and that’s how you’ve got to be when you are yearning to be the number-one player on the planet.” He emphasizes that he likes Faldo.
Not even Jacklin’s mother is spared his wrath. “To get along with people, I have to like them,” he writes. “I don’t share the belief that blood is thicker than water.”
Jacklin straightforwardly addresses personal issues – the sudden death of his first wife, Vivien, in 1988 and the aftermath in he which he had thoughts of suicide and had a fling with a 16-year-old girl before meeting his wife, Astrid. He also details his financial problems. After the Ryder Cup portion are chapters dealing with Jacklin’s mostly superficial contacts with celebrities and royalty, which were unnecessary.
Jacklin ends the book with an impassioned plea for the PGA Tour to enact restrictions on equipment. Not quite the long-term advocate that his friend Nicklaus has been on the subject, Jacklin nonetheless professes to rarely watching golf on television anymore because it is boring, a succession of 350-yard drives and wedges. “When the Open goes back to St. Andrews in 2022, you are going to see 60 broken if the weather is fine,” he warns. This short chapter may well be the highlight of the book.
My Ryder Cup Journey may not be particularly well written, but it’s worth your time. A compelling read from an interesting character, flaws and all.