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Le Golf National sits in a well-to-do suburb southwest of Paris, a place where every house has a driveway, a garage and a postbox on the lawn. It feels a world away from the Olympic buzz and as the sun rose there was little to suggest the Games were happening at all. You could find “Paris 2024” branded on metal gating outside and giant Olympic rings beside the first tee, but otherwise this was just another pristine golf course.
And then they came. Spectators driven in by the busload, one after another after another, shuttled in from a nearby train station and deposited at the door. They were not just golf fans, either: families with children wearing face paint and couples carrying flags; not just locals but Americans, Canadians, Koreans, Australians and Scandinavians here to watch.
Off they scuttled to seek out their favourite players like tourists on safari. Their feet brushed through the long grass at Scottie Scheffler’s favourite watering hole, the chipping green. They huddled around Frenchman Victor Perez as he hit the opening tee shot. In total, around 30,000 spectators came through the doors.
“Unbelievable,” said Rory McIlroy after his three-under-par 68. What was he expecting? “Not this! It was awesome out there.” Organisers expected around half that number with interest perhaps swelling towards the weekend. The women’s edition will follow and the total number of spectators over eight days could touch 200,000.
All of which, combined with a dollop of national pride, made for a unique atmosphere. “I had a tear in my eye on the first tee,” said Australia’s Min Woo Lee, who played terribly by his own admission and finished the day at the foot of the leaderboard on five over par. “I was pretty emotional. I’m representing Australia, which is weird, I guess. I didn’t know I was going to react like that.”
His teammate Jason Day hadn’t represented Australia since he was an amateur 20 years ago. “The emotion, it caught me off guard. It took me a few holes to get over it. This week we’re not playing for money, we’re playing for medals. It’s the most nervous I’ve felt standing on a tee in a long time.”
Golf has endured a troubled relationship with the Olympic Games. It was first held 50 miles north of here in Compiegne in 1900 and was played again in 1904. But it was boycotted in 1908, cancelled in 1920 and not played again until the 2016 Olympics in Rio de Janeiro.
In the intervening years, golf developed its own identity, with a rich history and a particular sense of prestige and finicky personality. It created its own distinct culture built partly around exclusion which didn’t necessarily chime with the Olympic ideal.
When it was reinstated for Rio, most of the best male players rejected invitations, citing concerns over the Zika virus or pointing to their busy schedules. The top four in the world rankings that year – Jason Day, Dustin Johnson, Jordan Spieth and Rory McIlroy – all said no.
It wasn’t much different in Tokyo which played out without fans and some star names missing too. “It’s right in the middle of a big stretch of golf for me,” Johnson said when asked to explain why he wouldn’t be there, as if the Olympics were another sport entirely.
But this Games has not been shunned by the players and that enthusiasm has been reciprocated by fans. Here, an eclectic crowd descended on Le Golf National, albeit a less golf-savvy crowd, the sort that applauds a bogey the same as a birdie.
“It was a different vibe to a regular golf tournament,” said Tommy Fleetwood. “It’s hard to describe. They are watching the golf but a lot of them are actually just supporting their nation, I think. It’s great. They are very positive over everything you do. It’s nice that way.”
Fans packed several deep to follow the headline group of McIlroy, Scheffler and rising Swedish star Ludvig Aberg. Among the crowd was Michael Phelps, a face synonymous with the Olympics adding a layer of credibility to the show. Few sports will command this kind of attention over these two weeks.
“It’s a global sport,” said an American fan, Michael, from Chicago. He was wearing a stars-and-stripes cowboy hat and carrying an American flag. “When you look at skateboarding and breakdancing and then you look at the history of golf, it deserves its place. Would [Tokyo 2020 champion] Xander Schauffele trade his Olympic gold medal for major wins? I don’t think he would.”
A Swedish fan was seeing golf in the flesh for the first time. “Look at the crowds,” said Agneta. “We’re here to support Aberg. At home, people are watching the golf, they are into it for sure.”
One British spectator was not so convinced of golf’s place, despite coming here to watch. “I’m still a bit 50-50 on it,” said Graham. “The stars don’t fit with the Olympics which is traditionally an amateur event. If the tennis and golf weren’t here, I don’t think we’d necessarily miss much.”
He suggested a change to golf’s standard 72-hole strokeplay format. “Perhaps you could make it a four-ball matchplay and stipulate that one player on the team has to be an amateur.”
This is something put to Fleetwood, who smiled. “I would love the chance to have a team aspect to it as well, just because it’s another chance at a medal! But if it’s an Olympic medal and it has the prestige that it should have, it should be the same format as the majors.”
Golf is still on the periphery in many ways. Australia’s Lee is one of the few who decided to stay in the athletes’ village this week, and even the world No 36 found himself swarmed with attention by other athletes. “A lot of people were asking for swing tips,” he said.
But perhaps it is closer than ever to feeling like it belongs. Perhaps, too, more golfers than ever before want to belong. As each Games go by, that feeling will only grow stronger. “My generation, we didn’t grow up with the chance to dream of winning an Olympic gold medal,” said Fleetwood. “So every time I practiced, I was holing a putt to win The Open. But I look at my six-year-old, as soon as the Olympic starts he absolutely loves it.
”The Olympics is cool, it really is.”
