The Open’s Lost Masterpieces: Why Golf’s Greatest Courses Keep Missing Out

After 35 years covering professional golf—and a stint carrying Tom Lehman’s bag through some of the world’s finest links—I’ve learned that the most brilliant stages don’t always get the spotlight they deserve. That reality hit me square in the face reading through this list of courses that should, by every measure, be hosting The Open Championship, yet almost certainly never will.

It’s a sobering thought: Royal County Down is ranked the world’s best course that has never held a Major Championship. Let me repeat that. The best course. And it’s not happening.

When Geography Becomes Destiny

What strikes me most about this piece is the recurring theme underneath every course mentioned: logistics trump merit. The R&A has spoken clearly, if not always loudly, about this reality. As the article notes, former chief executive Martin Slumbers explained that they’d be “supportive” of Portmarnock asking the government for help—which is R&A-speak for “we love your course, but the infrastructure isn’t there.”

In my experience, this is golf’s dirty secret. I’ve walked 15 Masters at Augusta National; I’ve seen how a single championship transforms a region. The Open demands something different. It demands roads, hotels, transportation, security, merchandise infrastructure. County Down has none of this. Portmarnock in Dublin? Better positioned. Royal Dornoch in the Scottish Highlands? Absolutely remote.

“The Open will never come here for a host of logistical reasons, the course is easily good enough and better than all its Open peers.”

That’s not cynicism; that’s reality. And it’s frustrating because it means golf’s governing bodies are, in effect, punishing excellence in favor of convenience.

The Quality-to-Hosting Paradox

Here’s what I find genuinely remarkable: every single course on this list would play better than several venues The Open has already used. Look at the rankings—Royal County Down is No. 1 globally, Royal Dornoch at No. 6, Ballybunion at No. 9, North Berwick at No. 14, Kingsbarns at No. 15, and Royal Porthcawl at No. 21.

Yet we’ve hosted The Open at courses ranked considerably lower, venues chosen because they could absorb 250,000 spectators without the infrastructure collapsing. I get it. I do. But it speaks to an uncomfortable truth: major championship golf isn’t purely about finding the best test of golf anymore. It’s about managing an event that’s become more circus than sport.

Royal Porthcawl is particularly interesting here. It’s hosted The Senior Open three times, the Women’s Open, The Amateur repeatedly. Bernhard Langer won there twice. The course has proven itself capable of handling championship-level golf. Yet it struggles to break 7,000 yards off the back tees, and that seems to concern the powers that be more than the quality of the layout itself. In my view, that’s backwards thinking. If anything, shorter courses are trending in the right direction for modern golf.

The Ireland Question—And Why 2030 Matters

The most intriguing revelation here is the possibility of The Open leaving the UK and Ireland for the first time ever, potentially as soon as 2030. Portmarnock represents Ireland’s clearest path into The Open rotation.

“If the R&A aren’t keen on a particular venue then they very smoothly put a line through it without causing too much offence.”

But notice the language: they’ve been “supportive” of Portmarnock making a governmental case. That’s encouragement wrapped in diplomatic language. After decades covering this tour, I recognize that tone. It means the door is slightly ajar.

What intrigues me more is what this says about the future of The Open itself. With Birkdale confirmed, St Andrews returning in 2027, and both Muirfield and Turnberry eager to get back on the calendar, there’s suddenly breathing room for something different. Something ambitious. Something that might finally acknowledge that the best courses deserve their moment, logistics be damned.

The Dreamers’ Courses

Here’s my position, plainly stated: we should be pushing harder for these venues. Not instead of traditional hosts, but alongside them. What’s the worst that happens? We learn that excellent golf—the kind fans and players actually crave—matters more than maximum attendance capacity?

The article captures something wonderful about Ballybunion, describing it as mixing “elements of quirkiness with old-school charm.” That’s what we’re losing. County Down and Dornoch and North Berwick aren’t just good courses—they’re experiences. They’re the reason we fell in love with golf in the first place.

“If you are underwhelmed here, then the spirit of the game is probably lost on you.”

That line about North Berwick stopped me cold. It’s true. These courses demand something from you—they require you to actually golf, not just navigate a championship setup.

The Path Forward

I’m cautiously optimistic. The R&A has shown willingness to think creatively about The Open’s future. The fact that Portmarnock is being seriously considered, that conversations about taking the championship outside the traditional sphere are happening at all—this signals evolution.

But it requires us, as golf’s audience, to value excellence over convenience. To support venues that might mean longer travel or fewer grandstand seats, because the golf itself would be transcendent.

After three and a half decades in this business, I know one thing for certain: the courses aren’t going anywhere. Royal County Down will still be the world’s best links whether or not it hosts The Open. But we’ll have missed something special if we never give it the chance to host a championship that honors what made it great in the first place.