As golfers, we know The Open Championship as the oldest major in the game and one of its most revered traditions. The Claret Jug is instantly recognizable, as are the names—Old Tom Morris, Young Tom Morris, Harry Vardon, Bobby Jones, Jack Nicklaus, and Tiger Woods.

But have you ever wondered how it all began?

That question stayed with me for years.

The deeper I explored golf's past, the more I realized how much of its story had been forgotten. That curiosity ultimately led me to write THE OPEN, tracing the game's journey across 1,500 years of Scottish history to the inaugural Open Championship in 1860.

What began as simple curiosity turned into years of research through historical records, golf archives, and forgotten accounts.

I traveled to Prestwick Golf Club—the site of twenty-four Opens, including the first twelve. I began the day with the club historian discussing the inaugural Open and the events surrounding that first championship. We then spent several hours walking the ground where the original 12-hole course once stood, tracing its layout in detail. An unexpected moment came in his office at the end of my visit. He unlocked a vault and brought out a large ledger containing the original scorecards from the eight competitors in the inaugural Open. It was an unforgettable moment.

I visited St. Andrews and met with the Director of The R&A Museum. I spent time in the oak-paneled rooms of the historic R&A Clubhouse, studying oversized maps that show how the Old Course evolved over centuries.

I eventually realized that golf history is not really about tournaments or champions. It's about the people—some famous, many forgotten—whose determination, rivalries, ingenuity, and vision shaped the game.

And I also came to understand something larger: you cannot separate the history of golf from the history of Scotland itself.

The game survived religious upheaval, political conflict, shifting monarchies, and sweeping social change. Along the way, I kept discovering unexpected connections across religion, politics, monarchy, and broader social change—forces that shaped the evolution of the game.

Many of those discoveries made it into the book. Many did not.

What first drew you to golf history, Scottish history, or historical fiction?

…

The Stories Behind THE OPEN

As golfers, we know The Open Championship as the oldest major in the game and one of its most revered traditions. The Claret Jug is instantly recognizable, as are the names associated with the championship and the history of golf, including Willie Park Sr., Old Tom Morris, Young Tom Morris, Harry Vardon, Walter Hagen, Bobby Jones, Bobby Locke, Peter Thomson, and Tom Watson.       

But have you ever wondered how it all began?

That question stayed with me for years.

The deeper I explored golf's past, the more I realized how much of its story had been forgotten. The origins of the game weren't simply a matter of finding the first golfer or identifying the first course. The story stretched across centuries and was intertwined with the history of Scotland itself.

That curiosity ultimately led me to write THE OPEN, tracing the game's journey across 1,500 years of Scottish history to the inaugural Open Championship in 1860.

What began as simple curiosity turned into years of research through historical records, golf archives, old maps, and forgotten accounts.

And eventually, I traveled to the places I had spent so much time reading about.

 

When Research Becomes Real

One of those places was Prestwick Golf Club, the site of twenty-four Open Championships, including the first twelve.

I began my visit with the club historian, talking about the inaugural Open and the events surrounding that first championship. We talked about the eight men who gathered at Prestwick in 1860 and the course they played.

Then we spent several hours walking the ground where that original twelve-hole course once stood, tracing its layout in detail.

There is something different about standing on a piece of ground you've spent years contemplating.

You notice things that maps and books can't show you. You see the contours of the land. You breathe the briny air. You begin to understand the distances. You can imagine where a golfer would have stood and what he might have seen before playing his next shot.

The history becomes less abstract. It becomes a place.

But the most remarkable moment of my visit to Prestwick came at the end of the day. We were in the historian's office when he unlocked a vault and brought out a large ledger containing scorecards from early Opens.

I had spent years reading about that championship. Now I was looking at the actual scorecards.

There was something almost surreal about seeing the names and scores recorded on the original scorecards. These weren't reproductions or photographs in a book.

It was an unforgettable moment. And it reminded me why I enjoy historical research so much.

You can read about history for years. But occasionally, something puts you directly in contact with it.

 

Following the Trail to St. Andrews

Prestwick wasn't the only place where the research came alive. I also visited St. Andrews and met with the Director of The R&A Museum.

I spent time in the oak-paneled rooms of the historic R&A Clubhouse, looking at oversized maps showing how the Old Course evolved over centuries. Those maps offered another kind of historical perspective.

Today's golfers know the Old Course as one of the world's most recognizable courses. But the course wasn't simply created in the form we know today. It evolved over time, shaped by the land, the people who played it, and the changing needs of the game.

Standing there and studying those maps, I could see that evolution in a way that was difficult to appreciate from a book.

Again, I was seeing the history rather than simply reading about it.

And the more places I visited, the more I began to understand that the history of golf wasn't contained within the boundaries of golf courses.

 

Golf and the History of Scotland

Eventually, I realized that golf history isn't really about tournaments or champions. It's about the people—some famous, many forgotten—whose determination and vision shaped the game.

And I also came to understand something larger: You cannot separate the history of golf from the history of Scotland itself. The game survived religious upheaval, political conflict, shifting monarchies, and sweeping social change.

Golf didn't develop in isolation. It developed alongside Scotland.

The people who played the game were merchants, craftsmen, soldiers, physicians, ministers, aristocrats, laborers, and professionals. They lived through wars, political struggles, changes in religion, economic transformation, and the growth of Scotland's cities and towns.

As I followed the history of golf, I kept discovering unexpected connections between the game and the larger forces shaping Scottish life. Sometimes those connections were obvious. Other times they were buried in an obscure reference in an old document or a detail that appeared almost insignificant.

But those small discoveries could open an entirely new line of research. One question would lead to another. One person would lead to another. One place would lead to another. And before long, I could find myself following a trail that had nothing to do with the chapter I had originally intended to write.

That's the nature of historical research. You don't always get to decide where it takes you.

 

What Made It Into THE OPEN

Many of those discoveries made it into the book. Many did not. That's one of the challenges, and one of the joys, of writing historical fiction. The historical record gives you an extraordinary foundation: real people, real places, real events, and a world that actually existed.

But a novel has to do something more. It has to bring that world to life. I wasn't simply interested in telling readers what happened. I wanted to imagine what it might have been like to live through those events.

What did these people see? What did they hear? What did they fear? What did they hope to accomplish? What did they think about the game they were helping to create?

Those questions became increasingly important as I worked on THE OPEN.

The historical record gave me the framework. The research gave me the facts. But historical fiction allowed me to step inside that world and imagine the people behind the facts. That was one of the great discoveries of writing the book.

You begin with history. Then you step inside it.

 

The Stories That Didn't Make the Book

Perhaps the most surprising part of the entire process was discovering how many fascinating stories never found their way into THE OPEN.

Some were simply too far removed from the central story. Others were interesting but didn't advance the narrative. And some were discoveries I couldn't stop thinking about even though there was no place for them in the novel.

Those are the stories I want to share here. Over the coming months, I'll be going back into my research notes and pulling out some of the people, places, events, and unexpected discoveries that helped shape THE OPEN.

Some will be familiar names. Others may be people you've never heard of.

I'll write about historic golf courses, the evolution of the game, the people who played it, and the Scotland in which they lived.

And occasionally, I'll share the research stories themselves—the moments when something I discovered in an archive, a map, a museum, or an old document changed the way I understood the history.

Sometimes the story behind the story is every bit as interesting as the story itself.

A Question for You

What first drew you to golf history, Scottish history, or historical fiction?