Journeyman Steven Alker Is Making the Absolute Most of His Time on Champions Tour
ST. LOUIS — Steven Alker is back in St. Louis this week. And, man, is that weird.
He’s not supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be here last year, when he tied for ninth at the PGA Tour Champions Ascension Charity Classic. He’s not supposed to be anywhere on the Champions Tour, not Alker, not players like him.
The days of Jay Sigel, Roger Chapman and Dana Quigley are over, at least they’re supposed to be over. The shop is all but closed to journeymen like Alker, or darn close to it.
And yet here he is — Steven Alker, 51-year-old placebo turned player, owner of four Champions Tour wins and 13 top-5s over the last 10 months, the leading money winner in golf’s Second City, the ultimate fly in the ointment.
"Where did Steve Alker come from?" Kirk Triplett says, feigning as if he had never heard the name. "I’ll tell you where he came from. He came from busting his butt all those years, that’s where he came from."
The public may not know about those credentials, but the players do. Golf courses don’t read resumes, the game doesn’t reward nameplates. Triplett knows damn well who Steven Alker is, known for years. And he doesn’t begrudge him one bit.
“I think the one thing that professional golfers who have played the game for a long time appreciate is a guy that is playing well," says Triplett, who had three PGA Tour wins before joining the Champions in 2012. Triplett has eight Champions Tour wins.
“We look out and we say, ‘Man I wish I was that guy,’” he added. “Not for what he did before, not for what he’s going to do in the future, but for what he’s doing right now. So from that aspect, I think he has the respect of all of the players around here, regardless of what path he took to get here.
“Now, you have a guy who comes out and maybe plays great for a week, catches lightning in the bottle, everybody goes, ‘Hey, great job, way to go.’
"But a guy like (Alker), who has played great for a year? Yeah he’s got the respect of everyone out here. He’s earned it because he’s proved it over time. Doesn’t matter if he plays left-handed, right-handed, one-footed, one-armed … you shoot the scores, you get the respect of your peers.”
Alker turned professional in 1995. He played on the Korn Ferry Tour, when it was Buy.com, when it was Nationwide, when it was Nike. In 2003, he graduated to the PGA Tour and missed cuts in 17 of 30 starts. In 2014-15 he was back in the show, but missed 13 cuts in 22 events. In 2016-17, he was back for 23 appearances, but missed the weekend 11 times. He made only $218,681, much less after expenses and taxes.
Even in success it was a struggle. In 2014, he won the Web.com’s Cleveland Open. It took a tour record 11 playoff holes before he finally got the better of Dawie van der Walt. Before, after and in between, he has played in his New Zealand homeland, Australia, Canada, Europe … pretty much anywhere they stick tees in the ground and put balls in the air.
Then he turned 50, and everything changed. Of course, you don’t walk on to the Champions Tour based on how many candles were on the cake. It takes an application, a $3,000 fee, letters of reference, a seriously low handicap and a remarkable round of golf on a Monday to snare one of a handful of qualifying spots. Then it takes a top-10 finish in the event proper to keep your seat.
Alker ran the table in August 2021 at the Boeing Classic. When he left the course on Sunday, his 9-under par score wasn’t in the top-10. By the time he reached the airport, a few more finishers had backed up and it tied for seventh. And so began his Magical Mystery Tour.
The following week at the Ally Challenge he finished third, then came ties for ninth, seventh, fifth and seventh. He played so well in the short period of time he qualified for the playoffs. He won his second playoff start at TimberTech in Boca Raton, Florida, then pulled up second to Phil Mickelson in the Charles Schwab Cup Championship.
The pace has never slowed. This year, Alker has 11 top-5s and three more wins — including a Champions major, the KitchenAid Senior PGA Championship. His $2,491,881 in earnings leads the Champions Tour money list. At 5-feet-11-inches and 143 pounds, he is Cinderella, Rocky Balboa, Kurt Warner and Roy Hobbs all rolled into one.
“Yeah, you know, it’s a combination of things,” Alker says. “I mean, I knew I was playing well right around the time, as I turned 50, and it just kind of carried through.
“I think it just shows that it’s possible. Other guys have done it, guys have done it before me. It’s out there, and that inspires guys like me. It can be done, there are avenues. It’s tough, but I think you see that guys who have stayed in shape and kept playing have a chance, and I feel fortunate that I did that.”
Oh, a ball change was in there. The driver has been swapped out, a few other small tweaks. But when he joined the older set, Alker was no longer distance-impaired, no longer hitting long irons into small greens, no longer keeping up with Korn Ferry kids. Champions became chowder soup for his hard-grinding soul.
“There was nothing massive in terms of changes,” Alker said about the transition. “I'm not a guy that changes my equipment. I guess just the whole thing, the fitness and the technique … everything kind of came together. And it’s a different environment, one I was looking forward to playing. All that combined, I just built on that.”
There is one big regret, however, a repentance Alker can’t change with a birthday, a golf swing or a workout. After seeing his determined son through all the ups and downs, Bill Alker isn’t here to celebrate the stunning arrival. Steve’s father succumbed to cancer at the age of 79 in 2019.
He often thinks of his dad, as he checks the yardage book, ponders the next shot, looks at the leaderboard … as he pinches himself.
“Absolutely,” Alker says. “He was huge for me, and got me into golf. I’d love for him to be here. He got the chance to see me play when I played on the PGA Tour and Korn Ferry, had the opportunity to be out here a bit.
“The work we did together and the advice he gave me, I can still pull on that at times, which is huge. He was a big influence, we used to play a lot together. I miss that.”
In spirit, perhaps Bill Alker is watching, perhaps he knew all along his son would get here. Perhaps he knows he belongs.