I Miss the European Tour I Grew Up With

I’m getting old.

Sunday morning I woke up at 5 a.m., grabbed an energy drink, and sat in my dad’s old recliner to watch the back nine of the Euro Tour Championship from Dubai. No one was awake — not even our mutt Knox, who refused to leave the warm bed he shares with Steph and me. With the gas fireplace on and a quiet house, it was the perfect setup for some morning Euro Tour golf.

I watched Rasmus Neergaard-Petersen play a heroic closing five holes in five-under par to earn a PGA Tour card. It should have been a total thrill. Instead, it made me long for the old days.

My family didn’t have a TV when I was a kid, but I remember going to my grandparents’ house every year to watch The (British) Open. The leaderboard was always littered with well-known players from across the pond — and just as many names most Americans had never heard of.

Sure, everyone knew Faldo, Seve, and Monty, but there was still a mystery to them. They spent most of their careers playing in Europe, so we only saw them a few times a year. Faldo, with Fanny on the bag, a sweater free of sponsors, no hat, and that intense, locked-in demeanor. Seve and his wild shot-making and chaos. Monty being Monty.

Americans didn’t know a thing about Costantino Rocca in 1995 before he flubbed a chip on the 72nd hole at the Old Course at St. Andrews, and then buried perhaps the greatest putt in the history of The Open. No one — including most Europeans — knew Jean van de Velde before his meltdown at Carnoustie in 1999. Hell, most Yankees didn’t know Paul Lawrie either.

And I loved that.

The same mystery carried over to the Ryder Cup. The last few spots on the European team always included a couple guys who left us saying, “Who is this guy?” Howard Clark, Ignacio Garrido, Pierre Fulke, Nicolas Fasth — names very few people knew then or now, yet all were Ryder Cuppers.

Over the years more players have found pathways to the PGA Tour from Europe. Then in 2020, with the start of LIV, the European and PGA Tour formed a “strategic alliance.” Part of that agreement gives the top 10 (non-exempt) players on the DP World Tour points list PGA Tour cards for the next season.

And I hate it.

Let me be clear: I understand why it was done. It was smart for both tours. The DP World Tour needed the PGA Tour’s help, and the PGA Tour needed to stop LIV from poaching DP talent. And none of this is directed at the Tours or at players choosing to make more money on the best tour in the world. Who wouldn’t?

But on Sunday, I watched Rasmus Neergaard-Petersen’s valiant finish to snag the final PGA Tour card. And the whole time all I could think was how disappointing it is that he’ll be leaving the Euro Tour next season.

Earlier in the broadcast, Laurie Canter tapped in on the 18th, wiped his eyes, and let the moment hit him. His journey took him from the European Tour to LIV, to suspension and back, and finally, to the PGA Tour. Another of the ten best Europeans gone.

I know the game evolves. Money talks, alliances happen, and opportunities shift. But when ten of Europe’s best disappear to the PGA Tour every year, something fundamental dies. The DP World Tour becomes a feeder system, and the mystery — the thing that made watching those old Opens feel like discovering a new world — slips away. Maybe that makes me old. But I don’t think it makes me wrong.

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