Cyril Walker had won the U.S. Open by taking his time over every shot. Five years later, that same habit sparked one of the strangest incidents in professional golf: after being disqualified for slow play at the 1929 Los Angeles Open, the former champion refused to leave the course, forcing tournament officials to call the police. Two officers eventually carried him off the grounds.

It was an extraordinary fall from grace for a man who had once defeated Bobby Jones to claim golf’s biggest prize. But Walker’s story was about more than a bizarre tournament scandal. It was the tale of a gifted golfer whose obsessive approach to the game alienated his peers, while financial troubles and alcoholism eventually left him destitute.

The Slowest Golfer in the World

Walker was notorious for his painfully deliberate pace of play. A 1936 Milwaukee Journal article described the 5-foot-6, 118-pound Englishman as “the slowest player in the world.” Another account compared his pace to “a cross between a caterpillar and ‘Jersey Lightning,’” a reference to a potent hard cider.

His routine could test the patience of anyone playing alongside him. He examined pebbles around his ball, checked the wind repeatedly, and sometimes took a dozen practice swings before committing to a shot.

Fellow professionals grew so frustrated that some refused to play with him. Tournament organizers occasionally assigned Walker the final tee time and sent him out alone to prevent him from delaying the rest of the field.

But Walker remained unapologetic. He believed his methodical approach was part of his game, and no amount of criticism seemed capable of changing his habits.

That stubbornness reached its breaking point at the 1929 Los Angeles Open at Riviera Country Club.

The 1929 Los Angeles Open Scandal

Walker had fallen well behind the group ahead when tournament officials began warning him to speed up. The requests went unheeded, and by the sixth hole, officials had run out of patience.

When threatened with disqualification, Walker reportedly responded defiantly:

“You won’t disqualify me. I’m Cyril Walker, a former U.S. Open champion. I’ve come 5,000 miles to play in your diddy-bump tournament, and I’ll play as slow as I damned well please.”

Officials followed through with the disqualification. But Walker refused to leave, reportedly declaring that he had come to play and intended to continue.

The situation took an extraordinary turn when two Los Angeles police officers were summoned at the request of tournament officials. According to contemporary accounts, the officers physically carried Walker off the course, kicking and screaming, before depositing him at the clubhouse doors.

A former U.S. Open champion had been removed from a professional tournament by police—not for cheating, but for refusing to play faster.

The incident became one of the most remarkable episodes in Walker’s career. Yet it was especially ironic because his painstaking approach had helped him achieve his greatest triumph just five years earlier.

How Slow Play Helped Him Win the U.S. Open

On June 6, 1924, Walker won the U.S. Open at Oakland Hills Country Club in Michigan, defeating defending champion Bobby Jones by three strokes. He finished with a total of 297, the only competitor to break 300.

The field included several of the era’s leading players, among them Walter Hagen, Gene Sarazen, Leo Diegel, and Jones, who would later co-found Augusta National Golf Club.

Walker had not even been certain he would enter. While vacationing in Michigan, he decided almost on a whim to compete. Despite publicly expressing doubts about the course’s length, he reportedly told his wife that he would win.

At just 5-foot-6, Walker lacked the imposing build of some of his contemporaries. However, he possessed a powerful, low-flying shot that proved particularly effective in windy conditions.

His consistency put him in contention. He opened with three consecutive rounds of 74, leaving him tied with Jones heading into the final round.

Then came the decisive moment at the par-4 16th hole. A strong headwind made reaching the green in two risky, and Walker’s playing partner, Leo Diegel, sent his shot into the water.

Walker approached the situation with his customary deliberation. He changed clubs, repeatedly paced out the distance, and eventually selected a driving iron for the 190-yard shot. His ball finished just eight feet from the hole, and he made birdie.

Three-time major champion Tommy Armour later called it “the finest shot I’ve ever seen.”

Walker closed with a 75 to secure the championship. Jones finished three strokes behind and graciously acknowledged that anyone who could play the final nine holes at par under those conditions deserved to win.

In 1924, Walker’s patience had produced a masterpiece. By 1929, his refusal to compromise had turned that same trait into a public confrontation.

From U.S. Open Champion to Financial Ruin

Walker earned considerable money from his championship victory, exhibition matches, and endorsements. He later claimed to have held as much as $150,000 in the bank—a remarkable sum for a professional golfer of the era.

He invested heavily in real estate, but the economic collapse surrounding the Great Depression devastated his finances. By 1930, he was reportedly penniless.

His professional career continued for several years, but financial hardship and growing problems with alcohol contributed to his decline.

In 1931, a teenage caddie, John Pagano, accused Walker of assaulting him, claiming that Walker had struck him with his fists. Alternative historical reports from the period also alleged the assault involved a golf club.

However, the case was later formally dismissed because of a lack of evidence. The primary reason for the dismissal was that Pagano ultimately admitted it was a case of mistaken identity, clearing Walker of the attack.

In 1933, Walker was arrested after destroying signs directing golfers to a rival course.

In 1934, his driver’s licence was revoked for two years following a drunk-driving conviction. Unable to pay his fine immediately, he reportedly remained in jail until someone paid it for him.

The contrast with his former life was stark. Once a smartly dressed professional who had competed against golf’s biggest names, Walker was reduced to caddying, working at driving ranges, and taking whatever employment he could find.

In Miami, he reportedly wore the same worn-out turtleneck every day because it was the only shirt he owned. On good days, he paid a small fee to sleep in a Salvation Army shelter. On bad days, he slept on a park bench.

Eventually, Walker returned to New Jersey, where he struggled to make ends meet working as a dishwasher. Much of what little money he had left reportedly went toward alcohol.

A Tragic End to a Remarkable Story

In August 1948, Walker entered a local jail in Hackensack, New Jersey, seeking shelter. He died there of pleural pneumonia at the age of 55, per Time Magazine.

His life had taken him from an accidental introduction to golf in Manchester, England, to the pinnacle of American professional golf, and finally to poverty and obscurity.

Walker was a talented competitor who collected tournament victories, challenged the leading players of his generation, and produced one of the most memorable shots of the 1924 U.S. Open. Yet his story became equally defined by the stubbornness that damaged his relationships with fellow professionals and the financial and personal troubles that followed.

The Los Angeles Open incident remains the defining symbol of his contradictions: a champion so devoted to his own pace that he refused to leave even after tournament officials disqualified him.

In 1924, Cyril Walker took his time and conquered the U.S. Open. In 1929, he took it too far—and had to be carried away by police. By the time he died in 1948, the champion who had once defeated Bobby Jones had lost his fortune and was seeking shelter in a jail. His story remains one of golf’s most striking reminders that sporting glory and personal fortune do not always travel together.