“Match play is the truest form of golf.” Why do you agree or disagree with this statement?
That question ought to be part of the final exam at PGA Tour Qualifying School. In the wake of the new-look WGC Cadillac Match Play event, won brilliantly if not always convincingly by Rory McIlroy at Harding Park in early May, I’d like to extol the virtues of match play and also bemoan the reality that many Americans have never considered the above statement, let alone rejected it.
Americans are conditioned to believe stroke play is real golf and match play is a betting game involving separate front- and back-nine wagers and double-or-nothing presses. More than 95 percent of all televised golf is conducted at stroke play. The USGA handicapping system creates a scorecard-and-pencil mentality in which your performance on every hole must be quantified, even if you only play nine holes on a lazy summer evening. Back in the States, “What did you shoot?” is an acceptable question in every clubhouse bar.
I used to be like this. My opponent would concede me a meaningless putt, six or eight feet from the hole for a losing bogey, and I’d blithely write a ‘5’ on my card as though that number meant anything. I played an amazing match on the Old Course against a local one-handicapper when I was a student in St. Andrews, and instead of exulting in a thrilling one-up victory and the many excellent shots I made along the way, I chose to remember that I’d shot 71 and broken par for the second time in my life. That number, like the USGA handicapping system as a whole, utterly fails to account for the relative difficulty of changing conditions: is a 71 on a calm day and a course with receptive greens really more worthy than a 76 on a windy day or an 85 in a hurricane? (At least the British CONGU system sets a Competitive Scratch Score to judge how difficult a course has played on a given day before adjusting your handicap.)
I still love competitive stroke play, but I’ve come to love match play even more. Stroke play is fundamentally a lonely, individual game, but match play – even singles match play – is inherently collaborative: you have to play the man as well as the course. The same 20-foot putt should be approached very differently if you have two putts to win the hole than if you must make it for a half. I’ve played matches in howling gales where the challenge lay in taking seven shots on a hole to beat my opponent’s eight; on such days “par” is a myth and proper scorekeeping can be embarrassing, but match play makes every shot meaningful. I also love that there are no eagles or triple-bogeys in match play: no one hole can make or ruin your round, and every hole won or lost has equal value.
Every so often – usually at the Ryder Cup but occasionally at other marquee events like the Cadillac Match Play – we are reminded how awesome match play can be. Many Americans can’t or won’t absorb that reminder, but as I myself have discovered, this malady isn’t permanent: you too can go out with a buddy or enter a club match play competition, keep your wallet and writing implements permanently holstered, and experience golf as it was in the beginning and more often ought to be now. You might be surprised how free you’ll feel.