Trump Turnberry: A golf experience unlike any in the world

If there is anything Donald Trump enjoys more than prodding the press, it may be golf. He is not so quietly building a golf empire across the globe. So how is he doing? Look no farther than Trump Turnberry, one of the premier destinations in all of golf.

Perhaps no question grips Americans more than, “Is Trump making things better or worse?” It’s a fair question that has already garnered gallons of ink, both foreign and domestic. But last year, on a trip to Scotland, I found myself asking it about Trump Turnberry, not our country.

The Ailsa Course at Trump Turnberry is the site of one of golf’s greatest dramas; the 1977 Duel in the Sun between Nicklaus and Watson. It was epic. Books have been written about it. It cemented Watson as the next titan of golf. That year he won his first PGA Player of the Year award, an honor he would win six times in the following eight years.

It was also the moment the golf world first saw Jack, golf’s somewhat cantankerous wonderboy of the 60s and 70s, display his softer, human side. With a meaty forearm draped across Watson’s shoulders as they walked off the 18th, Nicklaus famously said, “I gave you my best and it wasn’t good enough.”

Surely no higher compliment could be bestowed upon the young champion. Each had shot 65 on Saturday and Watson captured the crown with another 65 on Sunday – besting Nicklaus’ 66 and winning by a single stroke.

Since then, it has become the measure of all Open finishes. Amazingly, Watson would fall short in the 2009 Open when he bogeyed the 72nd hole to fall into a playoff, which he eventually lost to Stewart Cink. Cink admitted after winning the only major of his career, “Even I was rooting for Tom.”

“Is this Heaven?”

Another voice answered in a complete and reverent seriousness, “No, it’s Turnberry.”

It is a special place, this exposed coast on the Firth of Clyde. Its place in Open history is forever secure, its grounds sufficiently hallowed.

And then, in 2014, Donald Trump snatched up the entire property for a cool $60 million.

Purists were aghast. It played out in the UK press as the quintessential ugly American, stampeding across the continent, robbing it of its beauty, innocence, and spirit. What would this heathen do to our beloved Turnberry, many asked?

Four years later the answer is clear; he turned it into perhaps the finest golf experience in the world.

I will admit that I was unsure of what to expect as our van wended its way through the coastal fields and villages en route to Turnberry. Half our group liked Trump. The other half despised him, and it certainly colored their expectations. I suspect it even rankled a couple of our friends that they’d have to spend a single red cent in the name of Trump.

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Though we had all seen photos of the place online – and it looked beautiful – we also expected some degree of gaudiness. After all, we’re talking about Donald Trump here.

I personally envisioned a large fountain in the driveway, topped by a triple-size statue of the Donald himself, 1-iron in graceful follow through, wistfully watching some golden golf ball in the far distance as it trundled down an imaginary fairway. I reasoned that he’d never let God and Ben Hogan be the only twosome who can hit that club.

As we pulled up, a hush fell over the van. It was gorgeous. Not pretty or impressive, but stunningly beautiful. Barely a hint of gold in the whole place. Quite frankly, we all felt as if we’d crashed some elegant event meant for Royals, celebrities, and the like. And then we walked through the lobby to the veranda perched high above the Ailsa and King Robert the Bruce courses.

How often in life do high expectations get exceeded? Seriously, think about that.

Looking down on the courses – not to mention the magnificent clubhouse, practice area, and delightful chipping course – it was jaw-dropping. Suddenly a bunch of chatty, 40-something midwesterners stood, mouths agape, at what can only be described as perfection.

One in our group teasingly announced, “Is this Heaven?”

Another voice answered in a complete and reverent seriousness, “No, it’s Turnberry.”

It’s that amazing.

TURNBERRY, SCOTLAND /

And I haven’t even mentioned the King Robert the Bruce’s castle that anchors the property along the seashore. Nor the Isle of Arran, a prehistoric-looking loaf of an island off the coast, that dramatically frames every view from the course.

None of this happened by accident. Even the locals will tell you that Turnberry was a bit run down before Trump poured more than $200 million into the hotel, facilities, and courses. I can also guarantee that not a single one of them could have imagined what it is today.

For Americans, there are two golfing meccas; Pebble Beach and St. Andrews. They are the mythical ones, the courses that every golfer agrees are at the top of the bucket list. Sure, places like Augusta, Pine Valley, and Cypress Point are consistently there too, but you and I can’t play those. And goodness knows Scotland and Ireland are littered with magnificent links, from Royal County Down to Carnoustie. However, I can firmly attest that Trump Turnberry is uniquely worthy of entering the pantheon.

Golfers understand the difference between playing a course and experiencing a course. You play your home course, or the resort course on vacation. At Trump Turnberry, you experience golf in a setting so magical you find yourself giddily strutting down the fairway, smiling and shaking your head in the sheer joy of your surroundings, even when you’ve yanked your tee shot in the gorse.

I’ve only experienced that out-of-body feeling at two other places – Pebble Beach and St. Andrews.

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Throughout my trip to Scotland, I made it a point to get to the first tee a few minutes early and chat with the starter. Most are men in their later years who have been around the game, and the courses, for decades. I’d break the ice by asking about conditions and any particular points of golf history I should observe but quickly move to more conversational topics.

At Turnberry, I asked the gentleman if he had you seen any celebrities or pros lately. The starter thought a moment and said, “Sir Nick Faldo was here recently.”

“What did he think of the new Trump Turnberry?” I countered.

The starter looked at me without a hint of a smile and replied, “He said he thinks they should play The Open here every year.”

Who am I to argue with a Knight of the Realm?

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