Jean van de Velde’s named is carved in cement on the wall of the Barry Burn, just short of the 18th green at iconic Carnoustie, complilments of the course superintendant 17 years ago.
It should have been engraved on the Claret Jug in 1999.
It wasn’t.
When the name Jean van de Velde is mentioned, it immediately evokes images of arguably the biggest single-hole collapse by a leader of a major championship.
The journeyman golfer from France stood on the 18th tee at Carnoustie with a three shot lead. The R&A’s engraver, perhaps preparing to begin etching van de Velde’s name into the band of the Claret Jug. Surely he could get it in the house and become the second Frenchman in history to hoist the iconic trophy. He had 487 yards to negotiate and six shots to win.
What transpired that day still haunts van de Velde and brings back painful images to anyone who was watching on that fateful day.
Van de Velde returns to Carnoustie this week, at age 50 he is part of the field at the Senior Open Championship. It will be his first competitive rounds at Carnoustie since “the collapse.”
It seemed as though it took an hour for van de Velde to play that 72nd hole of the championship.
Our memory is vivid on this one:
Tee shot: He chose driver, no one could believe it, Peter Alliss of the BBC simply said: “He’s gone ga-ga.” Years after the fact, Alliss recalled: “I didn’t know what to say.”
Van de Velde blew the shot wide right, way right, missing the Barry Burn and actually landing on short grass. He was saved, if only the for the moment.
Second shot: Here’s where it started to go really bad. He went for the hero shot, a layup was the sound thing to do. He took a long iron, perhaps trying to blow it into the stands on the right, where he would get a drop, hit his third on the green and putt for par. Didn’t happen. It hit a rail fronting the stands, kicked backwards, bounced off the concrete wall of the Barry Burn, landing in knee high fescue grasses.
Third shot: He tried to hit it on the green, the contact made a gosh-awful sound and with the ball seemingly going in slow motion, the white sphere dove right into the Barry Burn.
Then the side show started. Off came the shoes, he rolled up his trousers and waded into the burn with the crowds howling.
“He’s not gonna try this,” was the consensus of every announcer and anyone watching who had played any competitive golf. But the ball was there, half submerged.
After what seemed like an eternity, he retrieved the ball and climbed out, rolling down the trousers and putting his shoes back on.
Fifth shot: With a one-shot penalty he then dumped number five into the greenside bunker.
Sixth shot: Blasts to about seven feet.
Seventh shot: Made the putt, gave a big fist pump as if he’d won, but he actually put himself in a playoff with Paul Lawrie and Justin Leonard.
Paul Lawrie would go on to win and claim the Claret Jug.
The Legend Of Jean van de Velde was written.
He’s back in the field and to this day, insists that he played it correctly.
“What do you want me to say? I should have played it differently? I believe that, you know, with what I do and the way I do it, day in and day out, that I played it correctly,” he said back then and many times since.
The sad part of it all is that on the three previous days, he had a par and two birdies.
But the seven is all anyone remembers.
Jack Nicklaus summed it up perfectly: “He played mentally and strategically so bad it cost him the golf tournament.”
How long will the events of that 72nd hole stay with van de Velde?
He put it simply:
“I guess, forever.”
2 Comments
beege
I remember it very well also, Tom. Curtis Strange went nuts on the call for ABC–he could not believe for the life of him what Jean was doing. My problem with the whole escapade was his caddy failed. Its the caddy’s chore to make sure the golfer keeps his head on straight. He can’t hit the shots but he should put his foot down and say, let’s play for a bogey worst make a double and with this thing.
He did not and Jean did not.
Tom Edrington
Bob, I caddied on the PGA Tour for seven months back in 1982. Ultimately it is the player’s decision, but I think if I were on the bag and he went for the driver I’d pull it out and break it. What I used to do, if a player was between clubs, I put my hand over the club I DIDN’T want him to hit so he couldn’t see it!