The Curse of the Trophy: Golf’s Haunted Hardware
Every fall, as the air thins and the fairways turn to gold, golf’s most famous trophies seem to pick up a pulse and become metal with a memory. Halloween is the perfect time to admit it: some hardware in this game feels haunted.
The Wanamaker That Vanished
In the 1920s, the PGA Championship’s Wanamaker Trophy simply disappeared. Walter Hagen had won (again), partied (naturally), and the story goes that the silver chalice never made it back to his hotel. For years the sport didn’t know where its prize had gone … until a trunk was opened and the Wanamaker was found like a ghost returning to the scene. The PGA of America has since detailed the lost-and-found saga, including press clippings from the time.
Golfweek, USA Today Sports
Maybe that’s why the trophy feels a little temperamental. It’s huge (a little heavier than 3 gallons of water) and notoriously clumsy in ceremony, champions regularly talk about how hard it is to hoist without wobbling or losing the lid.
The Claret Jug’s “Beautiful Burden”
The Claret Jug is golf’s most photogenic ghost. Winners get to keep the real Jug only one year before it returns to the vaults. A ritual that feels more like borrowing a crown than owning it. The Open’s own history page spells out the policy (replicas are issued after the Jug is handed back), a detail that adds to the aura: you never possess it; you host it.
And the Jug has a way of stirring headlines even after it leaves the mantle. In 2024, a high-profile dispute over a replica from Gary Player’s 1974 win reminded everyone that even copies of golf’s ghosts can cause trouble.
The Open Claret Jug
The Ryder Cup’s Tilt
The Ryder Cup is team golf with peak poltergeist flair: crowds roaring, pressure peaking, emotions becoming unbuttoned. Over the years, the trophy has earned a reputation for ill-timed slips and awkward moments on stage, like it’s reminding everyone that no one owns it for long. Even this year’s opening ceremony couldn’t dodge a headline-making blunder. Another little shiver in an event that thrives on superstition.
The Ryder Cup
What Makes Trophies Feel Haunted
History absorbs energy. Decades of triumph, collapse, and ceremony get imprinted on metal. The object becomes a vessel for nerves.
Ritual is real. Many champions wipe a base, steady a lid, or rehearse micro-rituals (like practicing the lift) to keep the “spirit” cooperative.
They’re heavy (literally). The Wanamaker’s mass makes every wobble feel like an omen. One bad grip and your victory photo becomes a ghost story.
Collin Morikawa in 2020 at San Francisco's TPC Harding Park
Did You Know?
Wanamaker stats: ~27 pounds, ~28 inches tall making it one of golf’s truly monstrous lifts.
Borrowed royalty: Open champions must return the original Claret Jug after a year, but get to keep a full-size replica.
Lost & found legend: The Wanamaker’s trunk-life is documented by the PGA, complete with period quotes about the “missing mug.”
Party trick: Capacity talk pops up almost every May and the media loves tallying how many drinks the Wanamaker can hold. (Spoilers: it’s a lot.)
How to Use This on Your Next First Tee
You might never touch a major trophy, but you do carry objects with meaning: a marker from your dad, the ball you refuse to retire, the towel you reach for before a nervy wedge. Treat them like talismans, not trinkets. Build a calm, repeatable post-round ritual: wipe the clubface, set the putter, breathe, then celebrate. The story you attach to an object can steady your hands when the moment shakes them.
NDG Takeaway
At NDG, we love the spirited side of golf because it proves the game is bigger than numbers. Silver can feel sentient; a lid can rattle at the wrong second; a Jug can demand to be returned. Respect the ritual, hold your hardware (whatever it is) like it matters, and give the moment its due.
No Dirt. Just legends.