For the 39th Year, Myrtle Beach's 'World Am' Put on a Show Unlike Anything Else in Golf
MYRTLE BEACH, S.C. — Dennis Peredo extended his hand on the seventh tee at River Club, and introduced himself and the backstory of his extended crew.
"There's a group of us back home, we call ourselves 'Les Vicios'—you know, the addicted," said the Manassas, Virginia, resident. "There's six of us here, never been before. Playing 36 every day."
That's the "World Am" for you. They are the addicted.
Golf courses across the country filled up for Labor Day weekend, the last gasp of summer, but in Myrtle Beach that golf rush begins one week earlier, when the PlayGolfMyrtleBeach.com World Amateur takes over the town with some 3,200 players from all 50 states and 15 countries.
This was the 39th edition of the "everyman's major," and there's nothing quite like it in the sport. It's competitive, festive, humid, occasionally combative and a heck of an advertisement for a tight-knit golf mecca.
Four Rounds, Four Days ... Maybe Five
The nuts and bolts of the World Am (and everyone calls it just that, with respect to various title sponsors over the years) are this: you play four rounds in four days over four different courses, with 8:30 a.m. shotgun starts. (If you're Peredo's crew you squeeze in an afternoon round too; that's not a part of the World Am but is worth a salute here given South Carolina's late-summer climate.)
A $699 entry fee includes the golf, prizes, a useful swag bag and access to the "World Largest 19th Hole," full of free food and drinks (including the strong stuff if your round didn't go so well).
This year's field had 62 flights, from a men's and women's gross to handicapped flights to a "just for fun" group. The majority of the players are 50-and-over men, with dozens of flights divided into players in their 50s, 60s, 70s and 80s. More than 300 women also competed across six flights.
A total of 49 courses in Myrtle Beach and beyond host World Am players.
Courtesy PlayGolfMyrtleBeach.com World Amateur
A total of 49 courses stretching from Pawleys Island south of Myrtle Beach up into North Carolina were used for the event, with 31 booked through all four tournament rounds. Flight winners (and ties) came back on Friday to TPC Myrtle Beach to determine the overall World Am champion. This year's winner was Terry Ream, a 63-year-old 3 handicap from Reno, Nevada, who shot 74 (net 71) in the final. And that's rare—he was only the sixth single-digit handicap in the last 31 events to win. In the net format, anyone can win the World Am.
In theory the "anyone" could have included me, playing in the event for the first time with my shaky 10 handicap. But I haven't played much this summer due to my day job (perhaps you've noticed an uptick in professional golf news), so I spent as much time with a pen in hand as a putter.
It took all of three holes on the first day to learn how dedicated these amateurs are. My course assignment was Prestwick Country Club, a Pete and P.B. Dye joint held in high regard with the locals. It was raining when I woke up, raining on the drive to the course and—after the briefest of breaks on the first tee—raining from the second shot all the way through our third green.
The aforementioned useful swag bag included a rain jacket and umbrella, but those only go so far in a downpour. When thunder and lightning joined in, everyone headed back to the clubhouse. After a half-hour of watching water pool on the greens and everywhere else, I took my soaked self back to the hotel.
Except when I got to my room, playing partner Dan Murphy, a 36-year-old from Toronto, texted: "they're sending us back out." I didn't think that would be even remotely possible, but the course staff was willing to give it a go and, as I found out later that night on the leaderboard, 52 of the 53 players in my flight were on board too.
Oops. I had made a rookie mistake. Only six guys in a flight of 9 to 12 handicaps broke 90, and the rest of the week I heard more stories of just how challenging that round was ("I used a ball retriever in the middle of a fairway," one guy said, shaking his head), but the bottom line was, people played. It's the World Am.
Play Hard, Eat Harder
I'll spare you details of the rest of my rounds (I played fine), because who cares? Well, they do at the World Am's nightly gathering spot, where "how'd you play today?" is the icebreaker for a couple thousand players and guests.
"The World's Largest 19th Hole" is the other calling card for the event besides the on-course action, as the Myrtle Beach Convention Center transforms for three hours each night into an enormous clubhouse. Free food is provided from more than a dozen local restaurants (each night has a different theme; don't miss BBQ night) and free drinks are all over, from soda to beer to cocktails. And nearly everyone leaves at the end with ice cream from Friendly's.
Shopping, skills contests and free food and drinks are available every night at the World's Largest 19th Hole.
Courtesy PlayGolfMyrtleBeach.com World Amateur
Vendors, golf skills challenges and other entertainment are everywhere in the cavernous space. There are golf simulators, a 60-foot-putt challenge (the putting green is lined with tables so you can eat while watching people miss; if you hear cheering from across the convention center that means someone made it) to a billiards exhibition with acclaimed pro Ewa Laurance, whose matches filled a lot of hours on ESPN back in the day. On the main stage, unofficial Myrtle Beach mayor and former Tour player Charlie Rymer holds court.
The 19th Hole isn't a mandatory stop every night (it tends to be busiest on the first night and the last night, when dozens of giveaways are randomly awarded), but gives the World Am its party reputation.
You never know what you'll see, like a guy walking around in a LIV Golf T-shirt. Given my day job, I had to talk to him.
"I thought this would be provocative to wear on the first night, I bought it online," said Lowell Rhodes, a Myrtle Beach resident and guest of a World Am player. "I'm telling people I'm a recruiter."
A Call From the Committee
In a hallway down from the bustle of the 19th Hole, the World Am's tournament committee is available every night to talk to players. This section is not about parties.
While the World Am has gross divisions, the heart of the event is the handicapped flights. Someone with a 18.4 handicap index from Atlanta might be in a cart with a 17.9 from Minnesota, along with players of similar ability on the rest of the course. Everything gets putted out, rules are closely followed, official scorecards traded and signed, and the scores are online by late afternoon (and on TV screens all around the 19th Hole, a nice touch).
The committee reviews scores as they come in, and let's just say an event of this size doesn't last 39 years if that 18.4 from Atlanta shoots a couple of 77s without someone in the office noticing.
Ryan Hart, the tournament coordinator, never uses the words "sandbagging" or "cheating," nor would those even be applicable most of the time (the above hypothetical would be an extreme and unlikely case). Handicap indexes can be unintentionally misrepresented and are often misunderstood (they represent the peak of one's ability), but the committee treats them as sacred. There's no other way.
After the third round, I hung out with Hart and his staff as they reviewed scores as they came in. Before the afternoon was over they would disqualify 19 players for shooting too far below their index.
I played with one of them, a 12 index whose three rounds had differentials of 12.3, 5.6 and 9.4. Without going into all the math, basically the last two rounds back-to-back were improbable for his index so he was removed from prize eligibility and the flight title (players may still finish the golf that they paid for).
"You played better than your best all three days, that's defeating the purpose of calling it your best," Hart said on the phone to another player who had been disqualified. "Your index is an inaccurate reflection of your best."
That call ended cordially. Not all of them do. But each removed player is given the courtesy of a call, then when the 19th Hole opens they are welcome to talk to the committee face-to-face. A police officer sits in the corner.
Over the course of a couple hours one night, a woman came in to plead her husband's case. Another player argued that he had been playing the two courses in town that fit his game best, hence his far-below-index scores. Yet another one was eventually guided out by the officer, after demanding a refund for the disqualification and promising a lawsuit.
If Golf Channel ever wanted a new reality show, the World Am tournament committee rooms would be a good place to put in some secret cameras.
The Lifers
The World Am began in 1984 and still exists as a tourism driver; back then few people visited Myrtle Beach the week before Labor Day weekend. Paul Himmelsbach, a local magazine publisher and golf course owner, put an ad in Golf Digest a few months prior to August 1984 advertising the event and got about 600 curious players that first year. A $175 entry fee got a practice round, three tournament rounds and food.
Over the years, organizers have taken calls from other golf hotspots wanting to know how to put on an event of similar scope in their city. But getting so many courses to participate and so many restaurants to provide food and handling the rest of the logistics is a year-round job, and nowhere else has staged an event as big and as enduring as the World Am.
Just ask any of the six guys who spent their evenings in the 19th Hole VIP area this year, the original World Am participants who haven't missed one yet.
Don Yelton, from Shelby, North Carolina, was 39 in 1984, saw that magazine ad and decided to come down. One of the courses he played, Gator Hole, now has a shopping center on it. But he remembered the BBQ dinner.
Paul Ciancanelli, from tiny Demotte, Indiana, drove down in '84 with his wife and a pop-up camper. He's 73 and he won his flight two years ago.
The original six all hail from different states, but come together every year for this reunion. And they're not the only ones making it an annual trip; the average World Am player has six appearances so far.
I have one in the books. I'll be back.