The Open’s Great Paradox: Why Golf’s Best Courses Might Never Host Its Greatest Championship
After 35 years covering professional golf—and having walked these fairways from a caddie’s vantage point—I’ve learned that The Open Championship operates on a logic all its own. It’s not always about which course is objectively best. It’s about infrastructure, logistics, television contracts, and a thousand other considerations that have precious little to do with the actual quality of golf being played.
Which is precisely why this piece about links courses that should—but almost certainly won’t—host The Open struck a chord with me. Because it perfectly captures one of golf’s great frustrations: we’ve built some of the finest courses on the planet in locations where hosting a Major Championship is logistically nightmarish.
The Course That’s “Too Good” to Host
Let’s start with Royal County Down. I made my pilgrimage there last year, and I understand completely why the author ranked it as their new number one. The front nine is genuinely world-class, and that back nine? It’s the kind of stretch that makes you understand why links golf zealots are, well, zealots.
But here’s the thing that’s haunted me since: County Down will almost certainly never host The Open. Not because the golf course isn’t good enough—it’s arguably better than several venues that have hosted the championship in recent decades. The problem is that it’s in Northern Ireland, nestled against the Mourne Mountains in a location that’s geographically isolated and logistically complicated for the R&A’s traveling circus.
“Royal County Down is without doubt the best course not to have held The Open, probably also a Major. The front nine is sensational, the back nine just outstanding.”
In my experience, this is the painful reality of modern Major Championship golf. The R&A, USGA, and PGA of America aren’t just booking courses anymore—they’re booking venues. They need hotels, transportation infrastructure, media facilities, merchandise opportunities, and fan amenities. A course can be the finest links in the British Isles, but if it doesn’t have the supporting infrastructure, it’s simply not in the conversation.
The Irish Question
What intrigues me most about this piece is the brief mention of Portmarnock and the suggestion that The Open might head to the Republic of Ireland as early as 2030.
“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. At last year’s Open the outgoing chief executive Martin Slumbers explained that they would be supportive of the club asking the Government for help in putting together a case for taking The Open outside the UK for the first time ever.”
This is significant. Having covered the tour through the ’90s and 2000s, I’ve watched golf gradually expand its global footprint, but The Open has remained stubbornly British and Irish. The fact that the R&A is now actively encouraging a club to make the case for hosting outside the UK suggests a philosophical shift. Portmarnock is a natural, fair links with a closing stretch tailor-made for championship drama. It’s also in a country with the infrastructure to support it.
I think this signals that we might finally be entering an era where The Open truly globalizes. Not to somewhere exotic—but to Ireland proper. And that matters because it opens the door philosophically to reconsidering what “Open” actually means.
The Tier System Nobody Talks About
Having caddied for Tom Lehman in the mid-90s, I learned that professional golfers have a pecking order in their heads about links courses. They’ll tell you privately what they won’t say publicly. The courses in this piece represent a tier system:
Tier 1 (The “Wow” Factor): Royal County Down, Royal Dornoch, Ballybunion. These are courses golfers dream about. They’re quirky, beautifully natural, and they demand respect.
Tier 2 (The “Should Work” Courses): North Berwick, Kingsbarns, Royal Porthcawl. These have hosted major championships or could realistically do so. They’re spectacular without being logistically impossible.
Tier 3 (The “Realistic” Option): Portmarnock. This is the course that might actually happen.
What strikes me is how the author frames this: these courses are “all among the best on the planet,” yet most golfers will never play them because they either don’t appear on television or they cost “a small fortune.” There’s an honesty in that acknowledgment that the golf world doesn’t often discuss. We’ve created a two-tier system where casual fans know Pebble Beach and St. Andrews, while the truly great courses remain hidden gems.
Looking Forward
The schedule the piece mentions—Birkdale this year, St. Andrews in 2027, then nothing confirmed—suggests the R&A is being strategic. They’re letting some venues sit out while others make their cases. Muirfield and Turnberry are “keen to get back on the calendar,” but there’s clearly negotiation happening behind closed doors.
What I think is happening is that The Open is maturing. After decades of circuit rotation, the championship is now evaluating which venues truly deserve another turn, which courses have been overlooked, and what the championship needs to remain relevant in a changing golf landscape.
Will we ever see an Open at County Down or Royal Dornoch? Probably not in my lifetime. But Portmarnock? I’d bet money on that happening. And when it does, it’ll represent a meaningful shift in how The Open thinks about itself and its future.
