Imagine being a complete beginner with absolutely no golfing experience and still attempting to qualify for The Open Championship. Then, despite shooting a staggering 121 in just 18 holes, you became so popular that an American country club flew you across the Atlantic, celebrated your golfing mediocrity, and even dedicated an event to you. Sounds unbelievable? 

Well, that’s the reality Maurice Flitcroft lived! It was 1974 when Flitcroft first discovered golf after watching a tournament on his newly purchased television. At the time, he was 45 years old and working as a crane driver in Barrow-in-Furness. By then, he had already tried his hand at several other professions, including stunt driving, selling ice cream, and painting.

But watching that tournament sparked a new obsession, one that would drive him to extraordinary lengths. He had no experience, no equipment, and nowhere to practice. So, he ordered a set of clubs from a catalog, borrowed instructional books from the library, and began honing his skills on the beach. Over the next couple of years, however, he never managed to complete a full 18-hole round.

That didn’t stop him from setting his sights on competing against the world’s elite at the 1976 Open Championship at Royal Birkdale, not far from where he lived. Flitcroft turned up at the qualifying competition and entered as a professional golfer. As he later explained, since he wasn’t a member of a golf club and didn’t have an amateur handicap certificate, this was the only way he could get in.

Surprisingly, his entry was accepted, and Flitcroft was assigned to a 36-hole qualifying competition at Formby. When the day arrived, he got lost trying to find the course and nearly missed his tee time. Once he finally made it to the first tee, his playing partners, Jim Howard and Dave Roberts, noticed that Flitcroft had brought along 15 Harold Bird golf clubs, which his mother had bought for him.

His caddie had to take one of the clubs back to the pro shop to get him down to the regulation 14. Add to that “a pair of chinos, a Fred Perry shirt that was ripped at the top and a pork pie hat,” and Flitcroft certainly didn’t look like your typical professional golfer. Yet Howard and Roberts didn’t think much of it. Even when the crane driver sent his opening tee shot soaring into the sky before it landed 20 yards away, they simply dismissed it as nerves.

But that patience wouldn’t last long! Flitcroft’s second shot found the rough and needed two more strokes to reach Howard and Roberts. Now, it was enough to raise suspicions, prompting the duo to call for R&A officials. However, their intervention came too late. Since Flitcroft had already begun his round, the officials had no authority to stop him from continuing.

What followed was a remarkable run of triple and quadruple bogeys, with just a single par to offer some relief. By the time the group reached the back nine, the unusual spectacle had attracted quite a crowd. Howard later recalled that between 200 and 300 spectators had gathered to watch Flitcroft’s attempt. When the round finally came to an end, Flitcroft had carded a staggering 49-over-par 121. 

Even that figure might have been generous. Howard claimed his actual score was considerably higher, with the scorecard simply recording a 12, accompanied by a question mark, on the par-5 eighth hole. But Maurice Flitcroft didn’t agree with that score. 

“I wasn’t at all pleased because that score did not reflect my true ability,” said Flitcroft. “I should have used the 4-wood, but I left that in the car. I was an expert with the 4-wood, deadly accurate.” 

But he didn’t show that accuracy in the second round. In fact, he never teed off in the second round and left for home after the first, realizing he would need to shoot 23 to make par. As you may expect, Flitcroft was all over the media the next day for fooling the R&A, which the organization didn’t appreciate. So, they banned the apparent professional golfer. But Flitcroft wasn’t about to give up. 

He continued applying to enter The Open, repeatedly using different identities to get around the restrictions. Some of his aliases might leave you rolling on the floor.

• James Beau Jolley: Named after his dog Beau, with a reference to Beaujolais wine.
• Arnold Palmtree: A humorous reference to golfing legend Arnold Palmer.
• Count Manfred von Hoffmenstal: One of his more elaborate assumed identities.
• Gerald Hoppy: Middle name + Nickname.
• Gene Pacheki: The identity he used for his final Open qualifying attempt in 1990.

Determined to keep Maurice Flitcroft off the field, the R&A even employed a handwriting expert to identify his applications. Despite all the efforts from the R&A, however, the crane driver would eventually enter the field again.

Maurice Flitcroft became a celebrity in America

Flitcroft’s infamous performance had clearly struck a chord across the Atlantic. Two years later, Blythefield Country Club in Michigan decided to turn his golfing misadventure into a celebration of its own. The club introduced the Maurice G. Flitcroft Spring Stag, an event that turned conventional golf competitions on their head. 

Instead of rewarding precision and low scores, it championed the everyday golfer, with some of the worst performers walking away with prizes. And these weren’t exactly the usual golfing rewards either. Golf lessons, bowling balls, and even goldfish were among the unusual giveaways! After some time, the organizers even introduced two holes on some greens. 

In 1988, Terry Moore, a golf writer, decided to bring Flitcroft and his wife Jean to America to celebrate the tournament’s 10th anniversary. Meanwhile, British Airways supported the idea, providing flights for the couple and two additional business-class tickets for a raffle. After his arrival, Flitcroft became somewhat of a celebrity in America thanks to television stations covering his appearance.

By this time, Flitcroft was 58. Despite his age, Moore remembered that the crane driver played very well at Blythefield. According to the writer, Flitcroft hit an excellent 200-yard opening drive and finished somewhere in the high 80s or low 90s. It became obvious that Flitcroft had been practicing and his game had improved. A couple of years later in 1990, he was back home and plotting his final attempt at competing in the Open.

At 60 years old, he was finally successful, entering the event as Gene Pacheki. He started well enough and carded 3-over-par after two holes. Unfortunately for him, that was the extent of his Open Championship adventure, as officials discovered his identity and removed him from the course before he could finish his third hole. 

Maurice Flitcroft’s story shows that sometimes victory isn’t about winning, but about having the courage to chase your dreams. Flitcroft passed away in 2007, aged 77, but his legacy lived on through The Phantom of the Open, a biographical comedy-drama based on his extraordinary golfing exploits.