In the annals of sport, certain rivalries transcend the simple tabulation of wins and losses to become something more—a cultural flashpoint, a testament to human potential, or, in the case of Stephen Proctor’s meticulously researched new book, Matchless, a quiet revolution played out on the windswept links of Britain and America. Proctor, who has previously chronicled the early days of the game, here turns his lens toward the 1920s, an era he frames as the “transformative age for women’s golf”.

At the heart of the narrative are two women who stood as “Empresses of Golf”: the British technician Joyce Wethered and the American competitor Glenna Collett. To read Proctor’s account is to realize that Wethered and Collett were to their era what Jones and Hagen were to theirs—perhaps even more, given the societal “patriarchal world” they were navigating while suffragettes fought for the right to vote just a year before their most famous duels.

Proctor is at his best when reconstructing the high-stakes drama of the 1929 British Ladies’ Championship at St. Andrews. He captures the “frenzied scene” where businesses declared half-day holidays so the Scottish public could witness the final 18 holes. The match itself was a masterpiece of fluctuation: Collett went out in a “scintillating 34,” a score Bernard Darwin—the dean of golf writers—called “overwhelming golf worthy of any male champion”. Yet, Wethered’s “imperturbable temperament” allowed her to claw back from five down to secure a victory that Darwin eventually found himself “at a loss for words” to describe.

What makes Matchless particularly relevant for the modern reader is Proctor’s insistence on the sheer quality of the play. He reminds us that in 1925, Troon was set at 6,415 yards—longer than the setup for the 2024 U.S. Women’s Open a century later. Playing from these “back tees,” Wethered and Collett repeatedly posted scores in the mid-70s, marks that were “unthinkably low for women” at the time and competitive with the men’s Open Championship records of the era.

The book also serves as a vital historical bridge. Proctor traces the lineage of the women’s game back to 1738, when “Charming Sally” won a match at Bruntsfield Links while her husband carried her clubs. He highlights the indispensable work of Issette Pearson, the “despotic” force who founded the Ladies’ Golf Union in 1893 to establish a uniform code of rules and handicapping long before the men’s game achieved similar cohesion.

Proctor’s prose is elegiac, particularly when discussing the “enduring legacy” of these two women who lived to great ages—Collett to 85 and Wethered to 96—but never outlived the legend they created on the Old Course. He concludes by noting that their performance remains, even a century later, “the greatest women’s golf match ever played”.

For the historian, Matchless is a rigorous addition to the library; for the enthusiast, it is a stirring reminder that the “manifest genius” of the game knows no gender. Proctor has not just written a sports book; he has recovered a lost chapter of excellence that, like a perfectly struck iron shot, rings true long after the follow-through.

Pick up your copy of Matchless today.

“Matchless” by Stephen Proctor is published by Arena Sport, an imprint of
Birlinn Limited.

Rating: ★★★★½ out of 5

Ms. Lexi the Golf Guru is a golf enthusiast, instructor, and advocate for inclusion in the game. When she’s not on the course, she can usually be found with her nose in a book, because great stories, like great golf shots, can change everything.

Because subtlety is overrated when there’s a new driver on the line

Your spouse thinks you want socks.

Your kids think you want a tie.

Your mother-in-law is convinced you’d love another sweater with a reindeer on it, even though you’ve worn the last three exactly never, and everyone knows it, but somehow this year will be different.

It won’t be.

Here’s the problem. You want golf stuff. They don’t know what golf stuff means. You say “rangefinder” and they hear “robot finder.” You mention “premium golf balls” and they think all golf balls are the same, which is adorable but wrong, and you can’t exactly explain that without sounding like a crazy person who cares too much about dimple patterns.

So you need a strategy.

Not a subtle one either. Forget dropping hints like breadcrumbs. Drop them like anvils. We’re talking about a systematic campaign of suggestion, repetition, and strategic device-leaving that would make Madison Avenue jealous.

The Laptop Strategy (For the Tech-Savvy Golfer)

Leave your laptop open. Always. But not to just anything.

Open to golf retailer websites with items in your cart. Specific items. With the size, color, and model number clearly visible. And here’s the key – leave it open on the kitchen counter where your spouse makes coffee, because everyone looks at screens while waiting for coffee, it’s basically a law of physics at this point.

Do this for three weeks straight. Different items, same cart. They’ll get the message. And if they don’t, you’ve got a backup plan because you can just buy it yourself on December 26th when everything goes on sale.

The Casual Mention Method

This requires finesse.

Not too much though.

The goal is to work golf gifts into every conversation without seeming obsessed, which you are, but they don’t need to know that. Your daughter mentions her science project? “Speaking of projects, I’ve been thinking about upgrading my wedges.” Your son talks about his basketball shoes? “Funny you mention shoes – golf shoes with better traction would really help my game.” The mailman asks how you’re doing? “Great, though I’d be better with a new putter.”

Is this overkill? Maybe. Will it work? Absolutely.

The Magazine Massacre

Buy every golf magazine on the newsstand. Dog-ear the pages. Circle items in red pen. Write notes like “This would be perfect!” and “Honey, look at this one!” and leave them everywhere – the bathroom, the nightstand, the kitchen table, the car, their car, basically anywhere someone might sit for more than thirty seconds.

When they ask why there are seven golf magazines in the living room, just smile and say you’re “doing research.” Research for what? They won’t ask. They’re too busy looking at all those circled items with price tags helpfully highlighted.

The Strategic Screenshot

Text them screenshots. Daily.

“Look at this cool driver!” Send.

“These gloves are on sale!” Send.

“Remember when I mentioned wanting new golf shoes? These are the ones.” Send with three heart emojis because you’re not a monster, you still care about the relationship, you just also care about having the right equipment to shave three strokes off your game.

It’s called balance.

The Gift List That’s Not a Gift List

Create a shared note on your phone called “Gift Ideas” and fill it exclusively with golf items. When they ask what you want for Christmas, just say “Oh, I don’t know, I’m easy to shop for!” and then casually mention you made a little list of ideas, you know, just in case they needed inspiration, no pressure, but it’s organized by price range and includes links.

This works because you’re giving them exactly what they want – a clear shopping list – while maintaining the illusion that you’re being flexible. You’re not. But they don’t need to know that until after the presents are wrapped.

The Buddy System

Recruit your golf buddies. Have them “accidentally” call when your spouse is around. Make sure they loudly discuss the new equipment they just bought and how much it’s improved their game. Your spouse will hear. They’ll connect the dots. And if they don’t, have your buddy call again tomorrow. And the next day. Eventually, either your spouse will buy you golf stuff or they’ll buy you a different phone number, and honestly, both outcomes have their merits.

The Amazon Wish List Blitz

Create an Amazon wish list. Share it with everyone. Your spouse, your kids, your parents, your siblings, your coworkers, that guy you met at the driving range once, everyone.

Put forty items on it. Thirty-eight should be golf-related. The other two? A book and a candle, just so you seem reasonable and well-rounded, which you’re not, but again, they don’t need to know that.

Update it weekly. Add reviews in the comments like “Would really help my slice” or “These are the exact ones my pro recommended.” Make it impossible for them to buy anything else because everything else looks boring compared to golf equipment that promises to transform your game, which it might not, but the promise is what matters here.

The Direct Approach (For the Brave)

Just tell them.

Seriously.

Sit them down. Look them in the eyes. Say “I want golf stuff for Christmas. Specifically, I want this driver, these balls, and this rangefinder. Here are the links. Here are the specs. I’ve made it as easy as possible. Thank you for listening to my TED talk about my golf needs.”

Will they appreciate the honesty? Probably. Will you get what you want? More likely than if you kept hoping they’d telepathically understand that you need a new sand wedge because the grooves on your current one are worn down and it’s affecting your bunker play, which is already bad enough without equipment issues.

The Follow-Up Campaign

Don’t stop after dropping hints. Follow up. “Did you see that text I sent about the driver?” Ask during dinner. “Remember those golf shoes I mentioned?” Ask during breakfast. “Still thinking about that rangefinder.” Say it to no one in particular while watching TV.

Repetition is your friend. Marketing people know this. Politicians know this. Now you know this. Say it enough times and it stops being a hint and starts being a fact – you want golf stuff, they know you want golf stuff, and somewhere in the back of their mind, they’re starting to accept that golf stuff is happening this year.

The Backup Plan

Here’s the truth – they might still get it wrong. They might buy you golf-themed pajamas when you wanted golf balls. They might get you a gift card to a mini-golf place when you wanted a membership to a real course. They might wrap up golf socks, which are fine, but they’re not the GPS watch you’ve been talking about since July.

It’s okay. Say thank you. Mean it. Then on December 26th, hit those post-Christmas sales like a bargain hunter who knows exactly what they want and has been planning this shopping trip since Thanksgiving.

Because you have been.

And that’s fine. Golf equipment is expensive. If waiting one more day means you can get 40% off that driver you’ve been eyeing, that’s called being financially responsible. Your spouse will appreciate it. Eventually. After you explain why you needed three new wedges when you already have wedges.

“The grooves,” you’ll say.

They won’t understand.

But you’ll have new wedges.

The Real Gift

Look, here’s what matters. The holidays aren’t really about getting the perfect golf equipment, even though that would be nice, and you’ve spent considerable mental energy making sure everyone knows exactly what you want.

The holidays are about spending time with people you love. Even if they buy you reindeer sweaters. Even if they think all golf balls are the same. Even if they wrap up golf socks when you desperately need new grips for your irons.

They’re trying. That counts for something.

But also, leave your laptop open to that golf retailer website. Just in case. Because trying is good, but specific product links are better, and you didn’t make it this far in the season without having a solid Plan B.

Happy holidays. May your drives be long, your putts be true, and your gift-givers be observant enough to notice the forty-seven hints you’ve dropped since October.

And if all else fails?

There’s always next year.

Golf is a sport steeped in tradition, prestige, and class. From the lush greens of the course to the meticulously designed clubs, each aspect of the game exudes a sense of history and elegance. Among these elements, golf trophies – the coveted prizes of the tournament – hold a special place. These iconic awards not only represent the winning golfer’s skill and determination but also carry a rich history and meaningful symbolism. In this article, we’ll delve into the story behind some of the most iconic golf trophies and what they symbolize, offering a unique perspective on this beloved sport.

The Claret Jug: The Open Championship

The Claret Jug, officially known as The Golf Champion Trophy, is awarded to the winner of The Open Championship, one of the four major championships in professional golf. The trophy, first presented in 1873, replaced the original prize of a red leather belt with silver buckle.

Its design is based on the medieval ‘claret jugs’ used to serve wine. The symbolism here lies in the association of the jug with a time-honored tradition, reflecting the essence of the tournament itself. The names of all the previous winners are inscribed on the jug, creating a tangible link to the history of the sport.

The Green Jacket: The Masters Tournament

At The Masters Tournament, one of the most prestigious events in golf, the winner is honored with a distinctive green jacket. The tradition began in 1937 when members of the Augusta National Golf Club wore green jackets to distinguish themselves from the crowd.

The symbolism of the Green Jacket is twofold. Firstly, it represents membership of an exclusive club, as only winners of The Masters or members of the Augusta National Golf Club are entitled to wear it. Secondly, the green color reflects the lush, pristine condition of the golf course, a crucial aspect of the sport.

The Wanamaker Trophy: PGA Championship

The Wanamaker Trophy, awarded to the winner of the PGA Championship, is named after Rodman Wanamaker, who played a significant role in establishing the Professional Golfers’ Association of America. It’s one of the largest trophies in professional golf, standing nearly 2.5 feet tall and weighing 27 pounds.

The size and weight of the Wanamaker Trophy symbolize the magnitude and prestige of the tournament it represents. Moreover, engraved on its silver surface are the names of past champions, honoring the legacy of the game.

The U.S. Open Trophy

The U.S. Open Trophy, awarded to the winner of the U.S. Open, dates back to 1895. The trophy was destroyed in a fire in 1946 and had to be recreated from photographs of the original.

The trophy is a sterling silver cup, adorned with elaborate ornamentation. The names of previous winners are engraved on the base, acknowledging the tournament’s rich history. The trophy represents the pinnacle of achievement in American golf, symbolizing the grit and determination required to prevail in one of the sport’s most challenging competitions.

Golf trophies are more than just symbols of individual triumph; they are embodiments of the rich history, tradition, and enduring spirit of the game. From the Claret Jug’s reflection of time-honored tradition to the Green Jacket’s symbolization of exclusivity and pristine golfing conditions, each trophy carries a unique story and meaning. These iconic awards, while coveted for their prestige, also serve as a timeless reminder of the sport’s enduring allure and the unforgettable moments that define golf history.