The Riviera Riddle: Why Golf’s Greatest Champions Struggle at Hollywood’s Most Prestigious Course

I’ve walked 15 Masters Tournaments, caddied for Tom Lehman, and spent 35 years covering professional golf. In that time, I’ve learned that some of the game’s most enduring mysteries aren’t always solved by statistics or swing mechanics—sometimes they’re just about fit. And Riviera Country Club, sitting pretty in Pacific Palisades, might be golf’s most puzzling mismatch between prestige and performance.

This week’s Genesis Invitational marks the 100-year anniversary of what was originally known as the Los Angeles Open, a tournament played at Riviera 60 times. The course has hosted Hollywood royalty—Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Humphrey Bogart—and it remains one of the PGA Tour’s most glamorous stops. But here’s what keeps me up at night: Jack Nicklaus never won there. Tiger Woods never won there. And if current trends continue, neither will Scottie Scheffler or Rory McIlroy.

That’s not a coincidence. That’s a pattern that says something profound about golf, about courses, and about the difference between being great and being suited to a particular task.

The Historical Head-Scratcher

Let’s start with the facts that make this mystery so compelling. Bubba Watson has three Genesis Invitational wins at Riviera. Phil Mickelson, Fred Couples, Lanny Wadkins, and Tom Watson all have two apiece. Meanwhile, the two undisputed greatest golfers in history combined for zero wins across 28 starts.

What makes this harder to swallow is that both Nicklaus and Woods had genuine chances. Nicklaus finished second twice in 14 attempts. Woods was runner-up twice in 16 tries. These weren’t missed cuts or casual also-rans—these were legitimate contention efforts from two men who made contending look like a habit.

“I’ve had some pretty good rounds here but never four that were good enough to win,” Nicklaus said in 1994, and you can hear the genuine befuddlement in those words.

In my experience, when you hear that kind of candor from a champion of Jack’s caliber, you’re witnessing something real. Nicklaus didn’t make excuses. He simply acknowledged that Riviera had him figured out in a way few courses ever did.

Understanding the Course’s Quirks

Here’s where it gets interesting. Riviera isn’t brutally long by modern standards, and it doesn’t punish wild swings with penal rough. Instead, it’s a course that demands what Jordan Spieth called “all parts of the game and a variety of ball-striking.” The greens feature Poa Annua grass—that slightly gnarly, temperamental surface that also shows up at Torrey Pines and Pebble Beach. The layout seems to reward a left-to-right ball flight. Short-game wizardry is essential.

Here’s the kicker: three of the course’s most frequent winners—Mickelson, Watson, and Mike Weir—are all left-handed. All three have also found success at Augusta National, suggesting that something about Riviera’s shot-making demands align with what makes certain players excel at the Masters.

“It’s one of those rare weeks where you just can’t get away with firing at flag sticks. Precision is so key, but being smart and recognising when even being precise still won’t work out.”

That’s Spieth from 2021, and what strikes me about that quote is how it hints at the real challenge: Riviera doesn’t just require excellence. It requires excellence paired with restraint, a willingness to leave aggression at the door. In my three decades covering the tour, I’ve noticed that the greatest champions often excel precisely when they can unleash their full arsenals. Riviera asks them to keep their powder dry.

The Current Generation’s Conundrum

So where does that leave Scheffler and McIlroy? Scheffler, who has dominated recent PGA Tour competition, has never finished better than seventh at Riviera. More tellingly, he’s never been within eight shots of the 54-hole lead—meaning he’s never truly contended. McIlroy has done marginally better with a fourth-place finish in 2019, but his last three visits haven’t brought him within nine shots of the lead.

Now, I’m not ready to suggest that either of these tremendous talents will never win at Riviera. McIlroy is still one of the game’s most versatile players, and Scheffler’s résumé speaks for itself. But the pattern is worth noting. Sometimes a course simply doesn’t suit a player’s natural strengths, and no amount of talent can bridge that gap.

What This Really Means

Here’s what I think matters: Riviera is a humbling reminder that golf isn’t a simple meritocracy where the best player always wins every event. It’s a game where context matters enormously. A course can be world-class and prestigious while still being a poor fit for historically dominant players. That’s not a flaw in any of these champions—it’s just golf being golf.

Nicklaus won 18 majors and 73 PGA Tour events. Tiger won 15 majors and 82 tour events. Their inability to win at Riviera doesn’t diminish their legacies; it simply humanizes them in a way that makes the game more interesting. And if Scheffler and McIlroy follow suit, it won’t be because they lack talent. It’ll be because Riviera, with all its Hollywood glamour and understated difficulty, plays by its own rules.

Sometimes the greatest golfers simply meet their match.