A few weeks ago I had the privilege of attending The Open Championship at Royal Portrush in Northern Ireland. For those who don’t follow golf, The Open - or the British Open as it’s often called outside the UK - is the oldest of men's golf’s four major championships. This last edition at Portrush was the 153rd playing of The Open and was won by golf’s current undisputed number 1, Scottie Scheffler, beating a field of 153 players, including the home favourite and Masters champion, Rory McIlroy.

My golf viewing buddy was my wife, and we had an absolute blast. She is a sports lover, but she is not a golfer and definitely not a golf fan when it’s on TV. Luckily, she gave it her stamp of approval within hours, describing watching The Open as (with minor paraphrasing) "blending together a nature walk on a spectacular coastline with watching elite athletes while soaking in the excitement of the crowds around you." If you like nature walks and live sport, you will probably have a good time at The Open.

For me the week began with some mixed emotions. My dad was supposed to be my sidekick at Portrush. We entered the ticket lottery more than a year ago and were beyond excited to get tickets for two tournament days. I started playing golf with my dad as a little kid, and I've played more rounds with him over the last 25+ years than with anyone else.

Golf is often viewed as a sport for wealthy country club types, and not without merit. Some of the most exclusive country clubs are centred around golf courses, and private courses with excorbitant membership and playing fees are plentiful. There is, fortunately, a lot more to golf than that. While nobody can argue that there is no financial barrier to entry, hoity-toity private clubs with antiquated dress codes are not where most rounds of golf are played. I was fortunate to grow up in a small town where I could put my golf bag on my back and ride my bicycle to the local golf course. There we spent our holidays, often playing from early in the morning until sunset for what was about a dollar a day at the time. On the best days, I would play with my buddies until late afternoon and then join my dad and his friends for their after work 9 holes.

My dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease in 2018 and the way that he’s been handling this terrible disease is beyond inspirational. While the movements have slowed down, he remains active. He still plays 9 holes with his friends twice a week in almost any weather conditions. Unfortunately, the long travel to Portrush and the demanding nature of watching golf was a bridge too far, and my dad decided to opt out of the trip. The sadness of not having been able to experience The Open with my dad is only slightly made up for by how much he loves the official championship bucket that I brought back!