OPEN CHAMPIONSHIP
In the movie, Maurice explains, “I don’t feel the score was a fair reflection of my play.” But the story is not a collection of one-liners; it’s more the poignant un- ravelling of a romantic with whom we all can identify. The scourge of Flitcroft resumed in 1983 as he slipped through the R&A’s net again posing as a disguised Swiss professional, Gerard Hoppy, and shooting 63 on the front nine before officials apprehended him. I want to rebuke Flitcroft for disrupting the Open and maybe distracting other serious competitors who were trying to do their best. But I’m won over by the humanity in the performances of both Rylance and Hawkins. “That letter Maurice sends to the R&A that by some administrative mistake gets accepted – that’s the hand of God, which we sense in our lives all the time,” Rylance told me. “The world answers our dreams, on occasion. The golf swing is a kind of singular act, only it involves the movement of a hunk of metal at the end of a stick. In all these things, you must remember to breathe, to connect your imagination to your body. At least that’s how I can relate to golf. There’s a sense of magic when it all goes right.” The producers mostly get every- thing right, save for two whiffs. Quali- fying rounds were never broadcast by the BBC, so Flitcroft’s derring-do went unseen on the telly as depicted in the film. It was left to newspaper report- ers to make him infamous worldwide. Second, the actor who portrayed the harrumphing R&A club secretary more resembles an Edinburgh banker than the lion-headed Keith Mackenzie I knew, who should have been played by Michael Gambon. It was Mackenzie in his raspy voice who would utter the phrase “Champion Golfer of the Year” in announcing the Open winner. At his lowest point, Flitcroft admits his dreams have let down the family: “The world’s not an oyster; it’s just a barnacle.” Hang on, Maurice – life’s bet- ter in the movies. Redemption comes with a surprisingly true ending when he’s celebrated in America. In his final moment of glory, it makes total sense for “The Phantom of the Open” to be introduced at a banquet by a handsome young black golfer coming off a victory in the US Amateur and about to play in his first Masters. After all, golf is the stuff that dreams are made of.
WHAT A POSEUR Maurice Flitcroft at the 1976 Open Championship.
Impersonating a Golfer Is this the greatest golf movie ever made? BY JERRY TARDE
this crane operator at an English ship- yard promises her a life of “champagne, caviar, diamonds – we’ll travel the world together,” he says. In 1975, watching Tom Watson win his first Open, Flitcroft invokes a rev- elation: “I’m going to have a crack at the Open.” He ticks the box marked “professional” in his Royal & Ancient application thereby circumventing the need to verify his skill, which gets him into the qualifying rounds for the 1976 Open never having played 18 holes be- fore. When a reporter shows up after Flitcroft’s first round, his wife, Jean, naturally asks, “How’d he do?” “He shot 121,” she’s told. “That’s the highest score in majors’ history.” “Does it mean he won?” she replies. In reality, the conversation was with his mother via the telephone, but we al- low Hollywood some degree of licence. He did shoot 61 on the outward nine at Formby before returning with 60 – 49 over par. As Golf Digest reported: “The 11s and 12s were estimates rather than precise counts and were blemished by a par 4 on the 420-yard 14th.” Peter Do- bereiner wrote: “Officials suggested with some vigour that he need not put him- self to the trouble of continuing.”
HERE’S A WONDERFUL scene in the 2022 movie “The Phantom of the Open” in which the real-life character named Maurice
Flitcroft – the Great Impersonator who five times attempted to qualify for the Open under various pseudonyms – has a sweet encounter in the locker room at Formby Golf Club with a 19-year-old Se- veriano Ballesteros. “Are you nervous?” asks Seve of his
middle-aged acquaintance. “Yes and no,” Maurice says.
“You don’t get nervous?” Seve says. “See, a mistake, for me, is an opportu- nity to learn something new about golf,” says Flitcroft in halting Spanish. “What did I do wrong? Love your mistakes, Seve, and you can’t go wrong.” “Until next time,” Ballesteros says. “Hasta cajones,” malaprops Flitcroft. “Until testicles,” reads the captioned translation. Flitcroft is played ingeniously by Sir Mark Rylance. Think of the Bill Mur- ray role in “Caddyshack” as if played by Sir Laurence Olivier. You need to re- alise this is not a golf movie. It’s a love story with the better half performed by Sally Hawkins. Proposing marriage,
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JULY/AUGUST 2025
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