It’s been 25 years since Jean Van de Velde's collapse at the 1999 Open. Does he have scars? No doubt. Do they define him? You be the judge.
Punta Mita Archives There are few places in the world more serene than the oceanside resort of Punta Mita. Set on a tiny peninsula in Nayarit, Mexico, and framed on three sides by the magnificent Pacific, it is at once a hideaway, a sanctuary and a tropical paradise. And for Jean Van de Velde, it’s just another day at the office.
The former European and PGA Tour pro, a seven- time winner in his career, is now the director of instruction at Punta Mita Golf Club . By any measure, it’s a blissful gig — perhaps especially so for a guy whose name is synonymous with one of the most unforgettable and shattering meltdowns in sports history. Maybe you’ve seen the footage.
Heading into the 72nd hole of the 1999 Open Championship at Carnoustie , Van de Velde held a three-shot lead, needing just a double-bogey 6 to secure his first-ever major title. Then disaster struck : a wayward drive right; a 2-iron approach that rattled off the bleachers, bounded off a stone wall and landed in knee-high rough; a pitch that plopped into the Barry Burn. The image that lingers and perfectly encapsulates the calamity is of Van de Velde ankle-deep in the watery Burn, pants rolled up to his thighs and hands on hips, contemplating an impossible splash for his fourth shot.
A BBC announcer, in disbelief at the then-33-year-old Frenchman’s poor decision-making.