The Open Championship is where it all began

There are arguments to be had about whether or not the Old Course at St Andrews is the most beautiful, the most aesthetically pleasing, or the most demanding but there is no debate I'm willing to listen to about what golf course is THE BEST. 

Saint Andrews is the home of golf. Golf literally started here.  Before this course existed, there was no golf.  All other versions of this glorious game are based on this version, at this course, and no other. 

This epic place means so much to so many; the past champions, the grounds crew, the towns people and of course, the spectators.  It meant a lot Arnie, who played at St Andrews in 1960 and repeatedly qualified for the Open Championship before status was even given to champions.  Jack followed suit in crossing the pond and dominated the Open Championship over the years.  Jack loved St Andrews so much that he retired from golf there, his farewell wave on Swilcan Bridge is one of the most iconic in all of the sport. Tiger arrived on the scene in 1995, and we were there!!

As a 14 year old boy, I tried to play golf but I'd never seen a professional hit a golf ball until my dad took me to St. Andrews in 1995.  The moment I saw John Daly whip that driver over his shoulder and knock a little white ball into the foggy oblivion, I WAS HOOKED!  

Dad and I followed several American golfers around the links that afternoon but I was mesmerized by Daly's golf shots.  While I had played many times in the Northern winds of the UK, I couldn't believe how far his ball was going.  It seemed like his drives would never stop.  

The ending to the tournament was just as awesome because out of nowhere Constantino Rocca drains a bomb after flubbing a chip and Daly has to go to a playoff to win it.  But he did, and we were there. Me, my dad & all that mattered in the world, at the home of golf.