The Riviera Riddle: Why Golf’s Greatest Players Keep Coming Up Short

There’s a mystery that’s been nagging at me for about three decades now, and this week’s Genesis Invitational at Riviera Country Club has me thinking about it again. How is it possible that the two greatest golfers who ever lived—Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods—never won at this storied Pacific Palisades layout? And more intriguingly, why are today’s best players, Scottie Scheffler and Rory McIlroy, seemingly headed down the same frustrating path?

I’ve been around this game long enough to know that golf doesn’t hand out easy answers, but this one is genuinely puzzling.

A Century of Champions (And Some Notable Gaps)

Let’s set the stage. The Los Angeles Open—now the Genesis Invitational—has been played at Riviera for 60 of its 100-year history. In that time, we’ve seen Bubba Watson claim three victories, while Phil Mickelson, Fred Couples, Lanny Wadkins, and Tom Watson each have two wins. Solid names, all of them. But here’s where it gets strange.

Nicklaus competed in 12 Genesis Invitationals at Riviera plus two PGA Championships there. Winless. Woods has tried 16 times. Also winless. Two second-place finishes each, but never that final victory.

What strikes me most is that both men made their professional debuts at Riviera—Nicklaus in 1962 (he pocketed $33) and Woods as an amateur in 1992. The course was supposed to be their launching pad. Instead, it became their white whale.

The Course’s Peculiar Demands

Now, Riviera isn’t some mystery course that nobody understands. It’s actually quite well-documented what makes it so difficult. The layout rewards slightly longer hitters—which explains Watson’s three wins and Mickelson’s success despite his left-handedness. The greens have quirky shapes, and a left-to-right shape is ideal off the tee. But here’s the real test: the short game and the Poa Annua grass.

Jordan Spieth, who genuinely loves this course, explained it better than most:

“It just requires all parts of the game and a variety of ball-striking. And then once you’re on the greens, you’ve got to have great speed control. It’s an all-around fantastic golf course that you don’t get away with poor shots at all.”

But Spieth went deeper in 2021 with an observation that really captures what separates winners from contenders here:

“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 the real Riviera test. It’s not about pure talent—it’s about the marriage of aggression and restraint. In my three decades covering the tour, I’ve seen plenty of talented players fail here because they couldn’t find that balance.

The Left-Handed Advantage (Or Is It?)

Here’s something I find genuinely interesting: look at the multiple Riviera winners and you’ll notice a pattern. Mickelson is left-handed. Watson is left-handed. Mike Weir, another two-time winner here, is also left-handed. And all three have also won the Masters, where a similar shot-shaping game is essential.

But this is where the mystery deepens. Nicklaus was a phenomenal left-to-right player. Woods developed a beautiful fade. Both had the shotmaking skills to thrive here. Both dominated Augusta National. So why not Riviera?

When I asked Nicklaus about this years ago, he offered the most honest answer I’ve heard: “I’ve had some pretty good rounds here but never four that were good enough to win.” Woods echoed similar sentiments in 2023: “I know the golf course. I also know I haven’t a lot of success here.”

Sometimes, the greatest players simply admit what they can’t explain. There’s something refreshingly honest about that.

Today’s Generation Faces the Same Puzzle

What really caught my attention about this article is the present-day angle. Scheffler has never finished better than seventh here and hasn’t come within eight shots of the 54-hole lead—meaning he’s never even been in contention. McIlroy has done better with a fourth-place finish in 2019 and a fifth-place result in 2020, but in eight attempts, those are his only real highlights.

Are we about to watch Scheffler and McIlroy add their names to this curious list? It’s entirely possible. And honestly, that wouldn’t diminish them one bit. Sometimes a golf course just has your number.

The Bigger Picture

What I think this really reveals is something important about professional golf that casual fans often miss: dominance is specific. You can be the best player in the world and still struggle at certain venues. Riviera demands a particular blend of skills—length, precision, course management, and a special touch around the greens on that finicky Poa Annua. Some of the game’s greatest players simply haven’t checked all those boxes at the same time here.

That’s not a failure. That’s golf. And honestly, there’s something beautiful about a course that can humble the greatest who ever played the game.