The Old Course Ballot: Golf’s Great Democratic Experiment—And Why It Matters More Than Ever

After 35 years covering professional golf, I’ve watched the sport chase exclusivity like a man chasing his handicap—desperately, sometimes foolishly, often to the detriment of what makes golf beautiful in the first place. So when I sat down with the details of St Andrews’ ticketing approach for 2026 and beyond, something struck me differently than it might have a decade ago.

The Old Course at St Andrews isn’t just a golf course. It’s a pilgrimage site, the Notre-Dame of fairways. The fact that it’s staging The Open again in 2027 only amplifies the fever. And yet, the St Andrews Links Trust has resisted the gravitational pull toward pure commercialism that dominates most premium golf properties. In my experience, that’s increasingly rare—and increasingly important.

When Ballots Beat Billionaires

Let me be direct: the ballot system is genius. Not in a complicated way, but in a fundamentally democratic one. As the article notes,

“A lottery is drawn to determine the order of allocation and not everyone will get a tee time.”

This is the anti-LIV model before LIV was even a cultural flashpoint.

Having caddied for Tom Lehman back in the ’90s, I saw firsthand how access shapes a golfer’s trajectory. The players who got reps at great courses—not because their parents had money, but because they were talented or lucky enough to earn it—they developed differently. They understood tradition. They earned their stripes.

The ballot does something similar for everyday golfers. A retired schoolteacher from Perth has the same odds as a hedge fund manager from London. In 2026, that green fee sits at £355—steep, sure, but not prohibitive. And here’s the kicker: if you win the ballot, you’re paying significantly less than the authorized tour operators will charge. I think that’s St Andrews saying something important about who the Home of Golf actually belongs to.

The Democratization Isn’t Just Lip Service

What really strikes me about this structure is the layering. They’re not pretending there’s one way to access St Andrews. The Swilcan Package gives you options if you’re willing to pay upfront—

“In this you can play two rounds in St Andrews, one of which is on the Old, and this will cost you £700 in the high season and £530 in the low season.”

That’s a real middle ground between the ballot lottery and the “small fortune” tour operators charge.

But then there’s The Drive—and honestly, this is where I got a little misty-eyed reading it. The Trust introduced a special initiative specifically to encourage Scottish golfers of all ages and skill levels. Last year,

“179 tees were made available between May and October and 44 golfers were lucky enough to play the Old Course for just £42.50!”

Forty-two pounds fifty pence. For the Old Course. That’s not golf administration—that’s a public trust actually acting like a public trust.

Compare that to the trajectory most American courses have taken, and you see a philosophical fork in the road. One path leads toward exclusivity as a business model. The other—St Andrews’ path—treats access as a responsibility.

The Standby System: Romance Meets Pragmatism

I’ll admit, when the article mentioned that overnight queuing has been phased out, I felt a twinge. There was something almost spiritual about golfers camping out under Scottish stars for a chance to play hallowed ground. But I also understand why they made that call. Golf should be about the round, not about proving your devotion through sleep deprivation.

The new standby system—putting your name down the day before and getting a message around 7pm to join a group—it’s elegant. Inclusive without being chaotic. They’re still getting 20+ players through this method on any given day. That’s upward of 7,000 golfers annually who get a shot through sheer proximity and timing rather than price point.

Where This All Lands

In my three decades covering the tour, I’ve seen golf’s business model fracture. We’ve got LIV challenging tradition. We’ve got daily-fee courses pricing out locals. We’ve got private clubs tightening membership standards. And meanwhile, St Andrews—arguably the most sought-after venue in golf—is tripling down on access.

The resident Links ticket at £386 annually? That means a North East Fife resident can play seven courses all year for less than many Americans pay for a single cart fee at their local club. University students get term-time privileges. The Trust manages seven public courses, and this year added the Craigtoun (formerly the Duke’s Course) to the portfolio.

None of this is to say St Andrews is running a charity. They’re running a business. The authorized providers exist for a reason. Prices are going up incrementally. But there’s a philosophy embedded in these choices, and it’s one I think the broader game needs right now.

Golf spent decades saying it wanted to grow the game, increase participation, connect with younger players. St Andrews is actually doing it. Not through social media campaigns or celebrity endorsements, but through something radical: making it possible for ordinary people to play one of the greatest courses on earth without selling a kidney.

That’s worth paying attention to. And if you’ve got the time and a smidge of luck, it might be worth getting your name in that ballot.